Adrian Barich: Mitch Brown coming out is an act of real courage sorely needed to change footy culture

It’s not often a story comes along in footy that makes me sit back and reflect; that makes me put down my small oat milk cappuccino and think a bit. Apparently, we should do that a lot more, just like that famous sculpture, The Thinker. You don’t need to adopt that pose but staring off into the distance is definitely the way to go. Try to process what you just heard and try to work out how you truly feel about it. I know it’s hard and I struggle to do it sometimes, but try to bypass your personal bias and look at the issue dispassionately. That’s what happened on Wednesday. We got one of those moments from an ex-Eagle. It wasn’t a mark of the year contender or a goal after the siren, but something far braver. Mitch Brown, West Coast defender, dad, 94 games in the blue and gold, became the first player in AFL/VFL history to publicly come out as bisexual. Mitch. The 195cm, 93kg bloke who once matched up on Buddy Franklin now faces something arguably tougher: being himself, publicly, in a game that hasn’t always been too flash at handling difference. He won the Chris Mainwaring Medal in 2012 for the being the Eagles’ best clubman — he’s that sort of fella. Good mark. Smart footy brain. Decent. Quiet. Reliable. Married the love of his life, West Coast Fever netballer Shae Bolton-Brown, on New Year’s Eve. He’s that kind of guy; you want him in your backline and you want him at your next barbie. And now he’s shown more courage than most. Not the fake kind that some footballers portray to scare their opponents, but the real stuff; the “charge in like Woosha” type of bravery, where you do it even though you might also get hurt. Like American athletics hero Jesse Owens, who stood up to Hitler. We like to bang on about it when someone plays with a badly corked thigh but real courage is the type that changes people’s lives. And I know I’ve been known to sugar-coat things, but not this time. Footy culture hasn’t always had time for this kind of honesty. Mitch said it himself; the chats in footy clubs are often all about who scored off the field. No room for subtleties or nuance here. No space for anyone who wasn’t a clone of the next bloke. If you had doubts, questions, feelings? Keep them to yourself, please, and jog off. Move on. Mitch buried a part of himself for years. He once asked a teammate, at 19, “How would you know if you were gay or bisexual?” The bloke laughed. So Mitch never asked again. That silence stayed with him. So did the fear. And now he’s telling his truth but he’s not an attention-seeker. He’s doing it to help someone else: “It’s about sharing my experience so others can feel seen.” He even said he’s ready to “take the burden”. He did it quietly, gracefully. With clarity and humility. No PR circus. No flashy documentary. Just a man telling his truth, and in doing so, he kicked some big goals. His ex-wife Shae, with whom he shares two young boys, posted a message that just floored me: “Our boys will be proud. I am”. As she told Mitch before his announcement, “This will make the world a slightly better place for our boy and young men in Australia . . . This is living the values of the kind of man I want our boys to grow up to be.” Honestly, if that doesn’t bring a lump to your throat, maybe you haven’t seen the pain that is out there for some people. And here’s the thing: Mitch didn’t come out because he had to. He did it because he wanted to make the game, and the world, better for the next generation. For the kid in the outer. For the young player at the local club. For the 19-year-old still waiting for someone to not laugh when they ask the question Mitch once did. Who wants any kid thinking the world would be better off without him, that he’s not wanted? He wants them to celebrate positive male role models. Let’s be honest, we’ve all seen a few too many bad headlines lately. And let’s not forget, this isn’t just about identity. Mitch said one of the big reasons he retired from footy was so he could meet new people, have real conversations — stop pretending. “I craved talking to someone and not being judged,” he said. As an ex-footballer that made me ponder: imagine leaving the game you love, just to be able to stop holding your breath. You’re not alone mate, we see you. Support has poured in. From people like Dylan Alcott and Isaac Humphries, media personalities and fellow players. And rightly so. Because this is bigger than Mitch Brown. So if you’re in the stands this weekend, sitting next to your son, or your brother, or your best mate, maybe take a leaf out of Mitch’s playbook. Show a bit of empathy. Make a bit of space. You never know who might be sitting there beside you, quietly hoping the world will give them room to breathe. As for Mitch? He might’ve hung up the boots, but he’s just kicked the most important goal of his life. And from where I’m sitting, in the spare room in front of my computer, it’s a beauty. Lifeline: 13 11 14.