It’s a little country hotel. Baz is on his stool in the corner. Position A as the footy airs on one flat screen tele, the races on the other.

There’s a jarring collision between two players. At speed. One of them is worse for wear. A little dazed. He’s helped from the ground.

“Geez, this game’s gone soft,” Baz mutters to Bulldog, reaching for his VB pint. “Yeah,” Bulldog agrees. “Not like my day. You’d just get up and get on with it. All the money these blokes get paid and they can’t cope with a little bump.

“Imagine if they copped a real s*#t mixer, like that one I wore in ’75. Had 10 staples over my eye and kept playing. We won by a few points and weren’t those beers sweet.”

Moments later the broadcast boundary rider announces that the player assisted from the ground has failed the concussion protocols. He’s been ruled out for the remainder of the game. Will miss next week too.

“Fair dinkum,” says Baz. “What’s this game come to.”

In a past era it was a sign of weakness to concede to pain. Unless you were knocked into next week or broke a limb there was an expectation that you needed to get back out there. Two blokes on the bench, no interchange.

Once a player left the field of battle and threw on the tracksuit top there was no going back. It had to be dire.

The perception of old school fans that the game’s ‘soft’ is unfounded. Australian football remains the most physically demanding sport on the planet. Run 14km in the midfield, most of it at speed, some at full tilt. Ruckman, two metres tall, 105kg crashing into each other at centre bounces.

Yes, the game’s different but it remains a battle of skill, endurance…and courage.

As a young man playing in the bush, highly-regarded country coach Tom Panizza – father of Claremont legend and games record holder Darrell – once said that anyone crossing the line to play this game was courageous.

And that bravery came in various forms. Some was obvious, like Beau Waters back pedalling with the flight of the ball in the 2006 Grand Final to take a telling mark in the pivotal final moments against the Sydney Swans.

Some less obvious, like the gut running of Andrew Gaff. Many fans merely see him in space, receiving the ball on the wing, they haven’t noticed him pushing his body to its physical limits to get there.

Or the work that he does to be out there in the first place. Every Monday, he hobbles into the club and begins the process of preparing his body for next week’s marathon.

Then there is the sheer guts and drive of Jeremy McGovern. Again that was obvious to all in the lead up to the 2018 Grand Final. He copped a nasty whack in the preliminary final against Melbourne and was in doubt until the 11^th hour.

Not only did he play, but he initiated that famous last play that led to the famous Dom Sheed goal. Not only did he show remarkable courage to be in the middle of the MCG there he had the mental strength to leave his opponent to take the intercept mark with everything on the line.

McGovern’s courage has been on show more recently. Broken ribs against Geelong a couple of weeks ago when an errant, accidental knee hit him in the wrong place. Several nights in hospital a plate inserted to protect broken bones. Back at the club this week.

Then there is Josh Kennedy, the club’s all-time leading goalkicker.

After 16 seasons of senior football being scragged, buffeted and physically challenged in all of his 289 games, his body is starting to show signs of wear.

These days he barely trains in-season. With experience comes an understanding of what the body can take so he reserves as much as possible for game day.

Coach Adam Simpson this week described Kennedy as a warrior. His assessment is in no way overstated.

Granted I am privy to insights others are not, but these blokes, soft? Definitely not.