The Cult of Essendon: When Football Clubs Become More Than Just Teams
There’s something about Essendon that defies logic. Personally, I think it’s the way this club operates—not just as a football team, but as a cult. And no, I’m not using that word lightly. When you look at Essendon’s history, their most powerful moments have always been when they’ve embraced this cult-like identity. It’s not just about winning games; it’s about a shared belief system, a sense of belonging that goes beyond the field.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how this cult mentality has resurfaced in the 2026 season. The club is in turmoil, and yet, there’s a growing chorus calling for the return of James Hird. Yes, the same Hird who was at the center of the drugs saga disgrace. From my perspective, this isn’t just about nostalgia or desperation—it’s about the club’s identity. Essendon needs to feel like Essendon again, and Hird, for better or worse, embodies that.
One thing that immediately stands out is the 180-degree turn many fans and commentators have done on Hird. I still can’t believe I’m saying this, but appointing him might be the least bad option right now. What this really suggests is that Essendon’s problems run deeper than coaching or player performance. It’s a crisis of identity. If you take a step back and think about it, the club’s inability to move forward is tied to its inability to let go of—or fully embrace—its past.
The Broader AFL Landscape: Beyond the Cult
While Essendon’s drama dominates headlines, the rest of the AFL is far from quiet. Take the Carlton Blues, for example. In my opinion, their struggle with expectation is a textbook case of mental fragility in elite sport. Last week’s collapse against Hawthorn wasn’t just a loss—it was a psychological breakdown. What many people don’t realize is that expectation can be a double-edged sword. It drives teams to greatness, but it can also crush them under its weight.
Then there’s Collingwood, a team that seems to thrive under pressure. With key players like Moore and Elliott out, the Pies are still finding ways to win. This raises a deeper question: Is there something special brewing in Collingwood, or are they just getting lucky? Personally, I think it’s the former. There’s a resilience and depth to this team that’s hard to ignore.
The Human Element: Players, Coaches, and the Unpredictable
A detail that I find especially interesting is the role of individual players in shaping a season. Take Sam Draper, for instance. His smile during the match against his former club, Essendon, wasn’t just a moment—it was a statement. It spoke to the emotional toll of leaving a cult-like environment and finding freedom elsewhere. This isn’t just about football; it’s about human stories that make the game compelling.
On the coaching front, Damien Hardwick’s tenure at the Suns is a masterclass in unmet expectations. What’s striking is how quickly the shine has worn off. If you ask me, the Suns’ leadership needs to step in and demand accountability. Sacking Stuart Dew to bring in Hardwick was a bold move, but it’s not paying off. This raises a broader question about the AFL’s coaching carousel: Are clubs too quick to pull the trigger on their coaches?
The AFL’s Rules: Progress or Pandemonium?
Let’s talk about the stand rule—a topic that’s dividing fans and commentators alike. Personally, I think it’s the best rule introduced in modern AFL. It adds urgency, creates spectacle, and rewards aggression. But here’s the thing: it’s not being policed properly. What this really suggests is that even the best rules can fail if they’re not implemented correctly. The AFL needs to get this right, or risk losing the very essence of what makes the game great.
Looking Ahead: What Does 2026 Hold?
As the season races to a conclusion, I can’t help but wonder what the future holds. Will Essendon find its way back to glory by embracing its cult identity? Can Collingwood sustain their momentum without key players? And will the AFL finally get its officiating act together?
One thing is certain: the 2026 season is more than just a series of games. It’s a reflection of the AFL’s complexities—its triumphs, its flaws, and its endless capacity to surprise. If you ask me, that’s what makes this sport so damn fascinating.
So, here’s my final thought: Football isn’t just a game. It’s a mirror to our society—our passions, our flaws, and our relentless pursuit of something greater. And in that sense, the 2026 season isn’t just about who wins the premiership. It’s about who we are, and who we want to be.
