Carlton coach Brendon Bolton presents the club jumper to Harry McKay during the draft. Photo: Getty Images
By the time Geelong had nominated Matthew Hayball, the last player selected in the 2015 national draft, the seats at the Adelaide Convention Centre were virtually empty. It was all over, without any shouting.
This particular AFL draft stretched on and on. It lasted about two hours, which is nearly an hour longer than necessary. The AFL, forever keen to imitate American sports and especially the monstrous National Football League, attempted to enliven the draft, but only succeeded in getting American pie in the face.
Why was this draft so dull? Well, in part the draft is inherently boring, except for the absolute aficionados and insiders and even they struggled with this format. I have covered many drafts and traditionally it has been about as interesting as watching an awards presentation night at the local high school. This year, it was akin to sitting through a Senate committee hearing on grain subsidies. In adding some American mustard, the AFL did not succeed in making this draft more edible.
To watch it on television – it was screened on two Foxtel channels – was frustrating, and from what one can gather, it was worse in the room, where the crowd soon lost interest, and Gill McLachlan – in a blatant copy of the NFL format – was placed in the ridiculous position of walking up to the podium to announce that a club had passed.
Having the coaches walk up the stage and announce that so and so was donning the sash or joining the Blues was OK, but did it need to continue beyond the top 10?
The only reason anyone watches the draft is to find out who their club has picked up, to discover if he's a left or right footer, where he plays and, if there's an accompanying video clip, you can fantasise about him becoming the next Riewoldt or (Joel) Selwood.
But people, on the whole, know very little about these teenagers – relying on the likes of our Emma Quayle to fill in the blanks. This is one of the major differences between the AFL and American sports they've modelled their draft upon – in the States, the college players are 20-21 and are often better known than half the NFL or NBA. Fans can have an opinion of whether their team should pick this quarterback.
But most of us have so little knowledge of these teens that the interest of supporters is almost entirely confined to players his team selects; only in hindsight does the draft become engaging, when it's apparent that the Tigers have picked Tambling or Fiora ahead of Buddy and Pavlich.
Consider the time consuming first round. A kid's name is called out by the coach. He stands up at his table, hugs mum and dad as if he's won the Oscar and walks up to receive the jumper.
Much as the kids enjoy their Hollywood moment, the viewers didn't need each pick to be so laboured. And, while the coaches are more recognised to the public, Iquite liked that recruiting managers – the people who actually make the decision – are revealed to the public, in all their middle-aged glory, calling out the name of an Oakleigh Charger.
In part, the AFL has revamped the draft as a spectacle at the same time that they've introduced the academy/father son bidding system into draft day. On the whole, the bidding and matching system worked well and gave the draft a new plotline, as we wondered if the Swans would match the Bulldogs' bid for Andrew Dunkley's boy (theydidn't).
Otherwise, it was slow hand clap material. Next year, we should see a faster format, a game of Twenty-20, and avoid the drawn Test.
