The football world had waited many months for the new broadcast rights agreement to be struck and, finally, just when it was to be announced, there was another delay that kept an already impatient, speculating media waiting for another hour.
The frustration was obvious in a packed Mike Sheahan Media Centre at AFL headquarters at Etihad Stadium, where more than 60 members of the media (even The Australian Financial Review was represented), including a dozen cameramen and as many photographers, had gathered to hear the finer details of what would be the most momentous media rights deal in the history of Australian sport.
Four rows of seats had been filled, with the rest splurging around the edges and taking particular care not to obscure the views of the cameras. But when it was announced the dealmakers were still signing contracts, many scurried out into the foyer and made calls to editors and producers to let them know they would have to wait a little while longer for the big news.
A colleague noted that during the break a cameraman was reading a tattered copy of John Steinbeck's 1952 novel East of Eden, which in both appearance and content was generations away from the technological wow-factor of the announcement that was to follow.
Around 3.30pm, there was movement at the station. Marching down the stairs from the AFL boardroom were the eight sharply-dressed powerbrokers - AFL Commission Chairman Mike Fitzpatrick, AFL CEO Andrew Demetriou, AFL chief operating officer Gillon McLachlan, Seven West Media Ltd CEO David Leckie, Foxtel CEO Kim Williams, Telstra Media Executive Director JB Rousselot, Premier Media Group CEO David Malone and Austar’s Group Director of Corporate Development Deanne Weir.
It was a large, seemingly unwieldy cast, but understandable given a lot of forces came together to make a lot of decisions about a lot of issues big and small, for the benefit of a lot of people, predominantly footy fans, but also the clubs and their players.
Finally, it was time to get down to business.
The eight decision-makers (four of whom were bespectacled) took their places in the spotlight on a podium that allowed seated audience members only a chest-up view of them.
AFL Commission Chairman Mike Fitzpatrick apologised for the hold up, explaining "a few documents needed to be tidied up"; a comment reinforced by Leckie's description of the two years of negotiations resembling an "all-in brawl".
Cameras clicked constantly but the speakers - led off by Fitzpatrick and Demetriou, before everyone else got their turn - continued unabated.
No surprises there; after all, these are high-powered people accustomed to delivering public messages, and nothing was going to deny them their proud and deserved moment in the sun on such a historic occasion.
The exciting mechanics of the deal aside, Leckie was the star of the show with his dry, sardonic brand of humour.
In explaining that he had personally been around the game a long time, Leckie said "Go the Blues," before looking at Fitzpatrick beside him and adding, "Not because of you."
The remarks seemed somewhat out-of-place at such a serious and long-awaited moment, but they were also just what was required to lighten the atmosphere among all the technical jargon, and many of the Leckie asides drew brief bursts of laughter.
Some of the exchanges were gold, and Leckie wasn't always the victor.
When his former employee, Channel Nine newsman Tony Jones, addressed the 60-year-old, Leckie said, "I thought you were dead." Jones replied: "You thought I was dead."
When Leckie asked The Age’s football writer Caroline Wilson "how are you?", she responded, "Alive." To which Leckie morphed an orchestral conductor, begrudgingly daring the gathering to laugh at his expense.
He was poking fun, and having it poked at him, while holding court at the same time.
Asked whether he had been pushing for a night Grand Final, he said, "I'd love to, but I've been bashed over the head." The basher, he suggested, was Demetriou, a long-supporter of the status quo for the Grand Final.
Asked by The Financial Review about whether he actually believes Seven can at least break-even on the deal, Leckie said, "Absolutely. I'm not very bright, but I’m not stupid."
Mike Sheahan, the man the media centre honours (a photograph of him with an attached bio adorns a wall), sat in the front row, front'n'square to Fitzpatrick and Demetriou.
Sheahan, introducing himself as "Mike Sheahan of the Herald Sun" asked McLachlan if there was anything on his wish list that he'd missed out on. McLachlan paused and smiled, before Leckie interjected, "Nothing! Not a thing!"
It seemed to sum up the entire mood of the announcement, and the deal.
Demetriou's idea of negotiation, he explained, revolves around all parties leaving the table feeling they had some success.
These very successful people appeared very happy, and that can only mean one thing: they are.
And the portents suggests that we, the fans, will be too.
The views in this article are those of the author and not necessarily those of the AFL or its clubs
