AS ST Kilda officials gathered covertly to make their final call on Ben Cousins, it was the recruiting manager and chief sponsor, Mr Jeld-Wen, who spoke first.
"You can't take Ben Cousins, guys," Jeld-Wen said. The entire room fell silent. Jeld-Wen, a manufacturer of doors and windows, did not often voice strong opinions.
"Why not," said one director, a former player with sympathy for Cousins. "Drainy's done all that work. We've been stalking him for five months. Ben is clean. The shaved head was his hairdresser's call. He can get us into a grand final."
"No way," replied Jeld-Wen. "Druggies break our windows. It's damaging to the brand."
No one dared dissent, not even to point out that broken windows might generate more business for Jeld-Wen, who was nervous about Saturday's draft. He had vetted most of the potential picks, but you never knew how these kids would turn out. One could only hope that they would be solid citizens, like Fraser Gehrig and Steven Lawrence.
A few kilometres across town, at the Taj Mahal that was once the old Olympic pool, Collingwood's chairman of the match committee, Mr Lexus, was considering the composition of the leadership group for 2009.
"What about Heath Shaw and Alan Didak?," asked Brad Scott, the assistant coach who had worked to reform Collingwood's notorious rat pack. "They've really knuckled down. Mick thinks they're ready to be vice-captains."
"Out of the question," said Mr Lexus, who had not been keen on Cousins either. "When Heath crashed into that fence outside the Geebung, he was driving a ute, not a Lexus. He's broken team rules."
"Fair point," said Scott, worried that, as an assistant coach, he could only afford a Commodore. "Didak should be OK?"
"I don't think so. He's not a Lexus passenger." Andrew Demetriou, as ever, was monitoring these developments at club level. The AFL boss was vainly trying to improve the image of players, and he could not help it if some of them took drugs, urinated in public places and went to Lionel Ritchie concerts.
His mobile vibrated. He glanced at the number, grateful that it was not another journalist or club chief executive. The caller was a key stakeholder, Mr Carlton and United Brewing.
"Andrew," said Mr CUB. "I wanted to talk about this Ben Cousins business. We're worried that a club might pick him up."
Demetriou listened intently. He did not interrupt Mr CUB; the AFL did not become the leading sporting body in the country by dissing its corporate partners.
"Cousins took drugs," said CUB. "I thought our footballers were beer drinkers. Our research indicates that drug-takers drink mainly bottled water."
Demetriou was about to object — that players were invariably drunk when they took drugs — but he thought better of it. He had bigger problems than Cousins. The economic crisis was threatening the viability of some Victorian clubs, not to mention his plans for expanding the competition.
In the Junction Oval offices of one of those impecunious clubs, Melbourne coach Dean Bailey took a call from his chairman, Jimmy Stynes.
"Dean, just called to tell that it's fine to take Cousins in the draft," said Stynes.
"We don't want him, Jim. He's 30. We can't compromise our youth policy."
"I know, I know," said Stynes wearily. "But we don't have a major sponsor right now. So you can go ahead and pick him."