If the ludicrous overreaction to North Melbourne's decision to suspend rookie Majak Daw is any guide of the tenor of AFL coverage this season then we are in for another ride on the excrement-fuelled rollercoaster that is the AFL media circus.
To put the Daw story in its proper context, this was a story about a player who has yet to make his AFL debut (there are probably over 200 in this category at the moment) doing the wrong thing by the club in terms of his rehabilitation from a knee injury, failing to tell the truth and the club suspending him for that breach.
It is something that would happen around 10 times a year across the AFL as in particular young players, struggle to meet the expectations set for them by the clubs. As a story in-season it would battle to make it beyond the 'In Brief' section, or as a tack-on to the end of its story.
It was the exotic nature of the subject which made it apparently newsworthy and that says more about the falsehood of the AFL industry's supposedly learned approach to cultural engagement than anything else.
Should he make it to an AFL debut, Daw would become the first Sudanese-born footballer to play Australia's indigenous sport at the highest level.
His arrival on the scene was hailed as a victory for the globalisation of the sport and its ability to transcend culture. He quickly became the AFL's poster boy for a generation of African migrants many of whom had initially struggled to adapt to their new surrounds.
Despite the fact he was still a long way from being ready for senior football, both the AFL and North Melbourne, a club seriously short of star power, were happy to put him up as representing something more than a kid from a disadvantaged background working hard to create a professional sporting career.
There was something a little colonial about the way that his body shape and athleticism were being appraised in the manner of a 19th century explorer on the prowl in the 'dark continent' for museum specimens.
His name added to his mystical quality and he became the most famous rookie in the AFL. His notoriety was advanced by an ugly incident at a VFL match last year where he was repeatedly racially abused.
'Tut-tut' said the educated masses. But while their motives were much more pure, there has always been an element of race in the fascination with Daw.
It is a similar story with the 'fascination' in which the skills of indigenous players are held. The concept of 'magic' still pervades in perceptions of the roughly 10 percent of players of Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander background in the AFL. Coupled with that are less flattering characteristics of 'unreliability' or 'inconsistency.'
We may no longer abuse players directly by the colour of their skin, but while we are still judging their skills in the context of their cultural background, there is still a racial element in our assessment.
The long history of Aboriginal involvement in AFL - plus the massive strides made in racial relations in the sport in the 1990s - has helped ensure that the 70-80 players indigenous currently on AFL list have a strong support network.
Daw has not been afforded that in his very public development as a player. Now he