IT'S BEEN a week tailor-made for the AFL's outrage industry, of which we are all willing participants.
Even if the world of football followers was populated only by throngs of Buddhist monks, there would more than a few twisted robes upon hearing GWS CEO Dale Holmes describe Tom Scully as a loyal young man at the press conference announcing his defection from the Demons.
Likewise the Zen chanting would have quickly turned to anguished sobs at the dolorous tones of Ross Lyon, for some reason sitting in Perth and claiming that he was "very comfortable with my integrity and my honour" having given St Kilda the boot roughly 14 hours earlier and snuck past both the waiting media and Mark Harvey at Perth airport.
As so often happens the games themselves, even a pair of semi-finals, do get a little forgotten in all the hoopla, at least until there's an umpiring controversy.
Which makes Monday night's All Australian awards a refreshingly whole hearted celebration of the 22 best players in the land, full of backslapping, good-natured revelry and a complete absence of controversy. Or not.
Because where there is football, there is debate and short of naming every listed player on an extended bench, deserving players will miss out on Monday night and anguished supporters will gnash their teeth.
Our Greatest Team of All for 2011 carries no such official weight but its lack of Cats, paucity of Kangaroos (call it payback for the intriguing selection of four of them in the original All Australian squad), and heavy weighting towards midfielders is still likely to cause plenty of friction amongst amateur selectors out there.
Still, line by line, it's hard to imagine a greater depth of talent bringing the ball from one end of the ground to the other. With Ben Reid or Luke McPharlin (fresh from the release of his debut pop single 'Leaders') bringing the ball to ground, our backline could feel comfortable that the two silkiest players in the game, Leon Davis and James Kelly would reliably hit a midfield target.
They'd also feel confident that this midfield would be capable of getting its hands on the ball. Particularly when those hands belong to the likes of Pendlebury, Murphy, Swan, Judd and Ablett. Imagine trying to match up against that pack of ball-magnets at a stoppage, especially when the rejuvenated Dean Cox is palming the ball to them.
From there, Travis Cloke or Lance Franklin loom large as tall targets and should the ball spill to ground, it would be a brave back pocket player who could stop either Stephen Milne or Steve Johnson from feasting on the crumbs.
Admittedly our bench does contain similar sorts of players in Matt Priddis, Sam Mitchell and Scott Thompson but each deserve recognition for their efforts in accumulating truly remarkable numbers of possessions this year and leading their teams with such bravery.
The Greatest Team's oldest member, Adam Goodes, played game 300 on Friday night in his customary role of game-breaker so he's perfect as the substitute.
It's a team of champions that is structurally sound enough to be moulded into a champion team, although right now it would be extremely risky to select a coach.
And the best news? If this team isn't to your tastes, you can always go and pick your own. Unlike ripping up a contract or defecting to western Sydney, you do have the power to build a Greatest Team of All.
