It’s been a couple of weeks now since the AFL decider was played, but something has been bugging me in that time, and that was a Power fan throwing a drink at Tom Lynch.
However, you may have missed an important bit of information in this development.
Apparently the AFL has struck a deal with SAPOL, where they can get information not available to the media and general public.
Of course, nothing could possibly go wrong for the AFL or spectators here.
At no stage in the past has the AFL ever become over zealous in forcing spectators to say only kind things to players during a game, right?
Thankfully Gil McLachlan hasn’t had a haircut since 1997, otherwise someone might commit the heinous crime of calling him a bald headed flog and getting a life ban!
Of course, I look forward to seeing the AFL get their hands on all my personal information, even as a non-fan.
How long until the AFL starts marketing products at people with foot problems like me?
The AFL will probably release a special line of cheesecakes to sucker me in too.
But this is all ok.
We’re all on social media these days, which allows our information to be sold off by Facebook to the highest bidder.
How else to explain that I got directed to sites about how to handle pregnancy when I did a google search for presents for my niece while my sister was still pregnant?
Yes, nothing can ever go wrong when privacy clauses are struck with major companies.
It’s such a great thing the AFL can just help themselves to information at any time.
Here’s a thought. Why not just have police and venue security inform the AFL of when someone is banned and provide details then, rather than give the AFL carte blanche to whatever information they want?
What’s to stop the AFL doing deals with businesses to get their hands on the information of people, like me, who have never been to an AFL game?
And how do we know the AFL is doing deals with legitimate businesses when they sell the information THEY have?
Having said all this, don’t you think it would be a heap of fun to find out exactly how big McLachlan’s ego is, given how he struts around so much?
Huh, why is my phone suddenly ringing from a number at Docklands in Melbourne?...