A new season always brings hope. Nerves. Possibility. As 2026 begins for the men's competition, I've been reflecting on something else beyond the excitement.
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Whether people feel safe enough to be themselves in the game.
Over the last six months since I shared my story, it has been clear to me that footy is full of good people.
People who care, people who want to get it right, and people who maybe aren't always sure how.
Here are some hopes and reflections as we head into the 130th season of the men's competition.
To those who hold influence inside clubs:
Culture is shaped in the smallest moments.
It's in what gets challenged, and what gets ignored. In who gets protected, who's excluded, and who gets backed in.
Please don't make the mistake of thinking belonging is a distraction from performance. It is performance.
When a player isn't spending energy hiding parts of themselves, they show up differently. More free and more connected. And connected teams are hard to beat.
No one is expecting perfection. There is no such thing as the perfect season.
You don't have to know exactly what to say and you won't always get it right. But it is important that we try. And when we get it wrong, we admit our mistakes, take accountability, and do better next time.
Apologies without change - or pretending the problem isn't there - aren't good enough. It's poor leadership.
This might feel unfamiliar, even uncomfortable at times - that's okay.
Progress in any team has never come from perfection - it comes from effort, from trust, and from the willingness to lean in and speak up when it matters.
To the media:
The stories you choose to tell shape how the game sees itself. The way you tell them informs the way society thinks and feels about all sorts of different issues - some bigger than football.
There is space in this game for analysis, scrutiny and accountability. That's part of sport. There's also room for humanity.
There's a difference between reporting and sensationalising.
Headlines, tone and framing carry weight.
For many players, one of the biggest barriers to being themselves isn't their club - it's the fear of how they'll be portrayed.
That responsibility is on you.
To the supporters
Fans are the heartbeat of the game. Have the rivalry, the passion and the banter. Footy should always be loud, emotional and fierce.
But it doesn't have to be abusive. Players aren't characters in a video game. Umpires aren't targets. Women in the game - whether on the field, behind a microphone or in the stands - aren't punchlines. And people from different cultures, identities and backgrounds shouldn't have to brace themselves just to be part of it.
Families are in the stands. Kids are listening.
The way you cheer, the way you sledge, and the way you respond when something crosses the line - all of that sets the tone.
Young people copy what they see. They learn what's acceptable from the adults around them. You can love your club with everything you've got and still choose respect - those two things aren't in conflict.
Footy has always reflected who we are as a community. It can also shape who we become.
Progress won't come from getting it perfect. It comes from choosing, in small moments, to be a little better than yesterday.
If everyone feels like they belong, the game gets stronger. And we all want that.
See you this season.
Mitch Brown is a former AFL player and a Ballarat boy. In 2025, he made history when he came out as the AFL's first openly bisexual man.
