Billie Smedts and the Athlete Aesthete

I don’t know if I can remember a recruit I’ve been more excited to see play than Billie Smedts. Over the past few years, off-season recruiting, trade week, the U/18 carnival, the scouting combine and national draft have intensified in media and fan focus tenfold: In 2001, when Joel Corey was drafted, all I knew was that he was from WA and that, with the addition of Corey Enright, I had a potential 10+ years of “Lost Boys” jokes.

As each subsequent year has passed, more and more information has been made available to us. We got over excited about Tom Hawkins (which turned out to be rightly excited); we worried about drafting an injured Travis Varcoe; and we somehow lucked out when Joel Selwood slipped to 7. Every year it goes up a notch. There are scouting websites, youtube highlights and Emma Quayle who has managed to produce two books about the whole experience.

(Note: I do find it a little weird that adults are watching underage athletes with such intensity and then writing reports about physique or body fat percentage. Let’s just move on before I make a Kim Duthie joke and ASIO starts monitoring my email.)

When the Cats drafted Smedts prior to the 2011 season, the ever expanding group of draft pundits were unanimous; he had terrific potential and Geelong had found a bargain with the 15th pick. Brendan Goddard was thrown around as a comparison. I think Mick Turner said he’s the best junior he’s ever seen (although, I'm pretty sure he's contractually obligated to say that every year).

The fact that Smedts missed all of his first year due to injury only made his debut season all the more anticipated. Chris Scott, after pointing out that he didn’t individualize, went on to talk him up all that summer. Smedts was quickly becoming my favourite player that I’d never actually seen play.

Then something incomprehensible happened. Something that I wasn’t prepared for: Billie Smedts has an ugly kicking action.

It’s not massive, but it’s there; that slightly awkward, too-high ball drop. I thought the highly organized production line of junior rep footy would have weeded this out. Smedts comes from good football stock (his father played for the Bulldogs), he tested really well at the draft camp, he has perfect triangle numbers (size, speed, strength) for the modern player, he has good awareness and spatial understanding of the game, is elusive and handles pressure well, is strong overhead, can play almost anywhere on the ground and yet he kicks like... Mark McGough? Is this why he dropped to 15 in the draft?

I don’t want to undersell Smedts’ talents just because I want the guy to have a better looking kicking action than my mates. Smedts improved with every game last season and found a spot on the half-forward line that suited his combination of tenacity and audacity, occasionally giving us a glimpse of his talent that led to coaches and teammates telling stories about no one being able to lay a hand on him at training. And on present evidence, his kicking effectiveness seems to be ok. But his inelegance speaks to a deeper question.

With Daniel Menzel we all know his issues are purely physical. Ditto for Nathan Vardy. With Cam Guthrie it’s a matter of finding the right position. With Mitch Duncan it’s merely a matter of when.

With Smedts, I wonder if this small hint of awkwardness is some precursor to never becoming anything more than a handy player, a subconscious flag telling me there will always be a ceiling on his ability.

Or is it just an aesthetic thing? Am I wired to appreciate the more fluid athlete, to be drawn to Mark Waugh rather than Steve?

For years Nick Dal Santo seemed to be overrated almost purely because, unlike Smedts, every action he took on the football field was smooth and unhurried, and the football left his boot with the same mechanical precision as if it was launched out of machine: He looked like a good player and so we aligned his qualities with those of a good player until the rest of his game caught up.

I don’t know how good Smedts is or how good he can become. And by all accounts, from those who know, he’s a natural. All I know is that seeing Smedts’ awkward action immediately led me to thinking that Mitch Duncan will be Geelong’s next superstar.

Drugs Are Bad, Okay?

I should probably have an opinion about this current AFL scandal. I should probably have a stance on drugs in sport. I should probably feel a reaction of some kind. But I don’t.

Here’s what history has shown us: If we can do it, we will. It’s just a matter of when; the law and our acceptance catches up after the fact. The line of morality in science and whatever else is constantly shifting. Birth control was once not only immoral but illegal. Same with alcohol.

The usual lines being toted by AFL clubs, including Geelong, talk about being on the cutting edge of sports science, about pushing up to the line but not going past it, about searching for any “legal” edge they can.

We want our players to run all day, to put on 10kgs in the off-season, to stay on the park every week. We want them to be aggressive, to be courageous and to fight to the death. We also want them to stay off the piss, to stay in the media spotlight and to be role models at the age of 22. We want them to care as much as we do, but do more than we ever would, be better than we ever were. It’s bullshit, it’s unreasonable and it’s largely irrelevant.

All the steroids in the world wouldn’t have made Henry Playfair kick straight or Kent Kingsley chase. A fairly substantial amphetamine problem didn’t prevent Ben Cousins from being an elite midfielder. A few years ago the AFL banned intravenous rehydration. Shane Warne missed a year of his prime for taking a diet drug. Ray Lewis returned from a 6 month injury in 10 weeks. Max Rooke flew to Germany for Rooster stem cell injections. Lance Armstrong avoided a single positive drug test. Ben Johnson is still one of the most remarkable athletes I’ve ever seen.

The goalposts are forever shifting. I just want to watch the games (and I’m glad they don’t drug test at my work).