Is nothing sacred?
That’s a rhetorical question – of course there are some things that remain sacred, such as the dollar, football and the Australian tradition of having a punt using money that we should be using to feed our families and pay the rent.
Today, a giant inflatable balloon in the shape of Christ is floating over Adelaide as a promotion for gambling company Sportsbet.
(Sportsbet, by the way, is the same company that yesterday thought it would be funny to release odds about young pop singer Miley Cyrus’s upcoming Australian tour. The novelty bets included “crazy” odds on Cyrus being admitted to psychiatric care while she’s in Australia. Seriously.)
The balloon mimics the Christ the Redeemer statue that towers over the Brazilian city of Rio de Janeiro.
It’s a religious symbol, certainly, but it also represents the community of Brazil, which is currently hosting the football World Cup. Hence, Sportsbet’s interest – dozens of games played over many weeks offer the company the chance to hoover up more dough from Australian punters.
The balloon has attracted controversy wherever it has flown – and that’s no doubt part of the strategy. Free publicity.
In this almost post-religious age, Christian symbols are commonly used by companies to market their products.
We can be too precious, but it seems bitterly ironic for a company that pushes the futile and, in many cases, destructive pastime of gambling to use the image of Christ the Redeemer as a floating billboard.
The figure’s symbolic meaning is clear: the arms are outstretched, offering forgiveness – redemption – to all who need it. For this gesture, precious to millions of people for several millennia, to be put to the cause of betting is beyond crass.
The ultimate irony is that so many problem gamblers end up being aided by the Christian churches, through groups such as Anglicare, which has a team dedicated to helping people pick up the financial and emotional pieces.
No sporting contest on earth – nor, it seems, any concert tour by a pop star – is now beyond the reach of the gambling industry.
The AFL is no different, with gambling companies swarming over the Australian game’s media coverage and websites to attract fans’ eyes with odds on outcomes and a raft of micro-bets – first score, total points, margin, total goals, even total number of behinds in any given quarter.
The code’s controllers and stakeholders have grown fat on the industry that AFL football has become, with the spread of games being manipulated to maximise television ratings and revenue.
Only one potentially high-rating day has remained free from football – Good Friday.
Now, the inevitable has happened, with the AFL Commission giving the concept its approval.
“There has been a growing appetite to hold a game on this day and on balance we believe the time is right,” said AFL Commission chairman Mike Fitzpatrick.
Of course, there is no pressing requirement to hold an AFL match on the most sacred and solemn day on the Christian calendar. It’s just an opportunity to manufacture a new “blockbuster” match, to create revenue, and build the strength of selected clubs.
The AFL, like Sportsbet with its balloon, is looking after its own interests. It cares not for the sensibilities of Christan churches or players – only the growth of its own power, influence and revenue.
No doubt many AFL fans will welcome being able to watch footy on Good Friday.
But at what cost? Even for the non-religious, this public holiday seemed different to the others.
It wasn’t a day for booze-ups or barbecues; it wasn’t a day at the races; it wasn’t an excuse to eat chocolate or splurge on presents.
It was a day of reflection – even if it was enforced by the lack of telecast sporting entertainments, at least of the AFL variety.
Which leads me to these question: does every quiet place in our frantic lives, does every patch of sky, need to be colonised in the interests of entertainment or commerce?
