Sizzling action, unrivaled passion and spectacular climaxes have packed the 16-year affair, but only now is the real truth starting to emerge.

Far from being happy bedfellows, both parties appear guilty of infidelities.

The AFL, with its suave, debonair hero and his immaculate hair, has been wooing richer partners like the glamorous Gold Coast and that trailer trash from western Sydney.

Meanwhile the flirtatious Tasmania has been flashing an eye at soccer, teasing the rival for its affections with suggestions of a boutique love nest.

Most of this was going on behind the scenes in a Bill Clinton type way, but all it took was one careless whisper and suddenly the gloves are off.

Retiring after 10 years as AFL chairman, Mike Fitzpatrick attempted to explain the two parties’ failure to consummate the marriage.

“In many ways the difficulty is North-South issue in Tasmania and that has to be resolved before Tasmania can be resolved.”

It wasn’t so much an “It’s not you, it’s me” explanation, more of a “No, actually it is you.”

Fitzpatrick decided to try and rake up a 214-year-old argument that had been festering since Lt. John Bowen challenged the Risdon Cove Neighbourhood Watch Society to a friendly kick-about.

Coming from someone whose reign had overseen almost as many sex and drug scandals as a Motley Crue tour of South-East Asia, it was almost as rich as the AFL bank account.

“It’s well known that several years ago we tried to sort Tasmania out and just have one side. That’s an example of where we failed. That issue will come again.”

Very selfless of them to try and “sort out” a state that pays about $6 million a year for the privilege.

Up to this point, Tasmania had bitten her tongue, toiling away in the political kitchen while the other half sat in front of the footy admiring Samantha Lane.

Any time they appeared together, the media were presented with visions of hand-holding and smiles.

The most superficial of these photo ops came when Gillon McLachlan attended the latest round of York Park funding announcements in 2008 but declined to make any AFL contribution, prompting Hawks president Jeff Kennett to observe: "They are drowning in money, they just need to give Tasmania a bigger slice of the cake."

A year later, Andrew Demetriou assured Tasmania it was “the next cab off the rank” while failing to admit that the rank in question had been knocked down and replaced with a car park extension for Carrara Stadium. 

But Fitzpatrick’s comments were the last straw and Tasmania could take no more.

The state’s unease with the AFL’s approach had been boiling away beneath the surface throughout their deal, but suddenly it was open season to clear the air.

Premiers past and present from both sides of the political divide reacted like a woman scorned and lined up to spill the beans on the realities of the relationship.

David Bartlett revealed how the AFL had expected his Labor government to sign a $100 million pre-nup to increase the Kangaroos’ involvement in the state.

This, he said, was a stark contrast to the deal the AFL had tried to strike with its love interest on the Gold Coast which involved giving a $100 million engagement present.

Like ex-girlfriends teaming up to lambaste an exposed Lothario, assorted Liberals joined the chorus, deviously using logic and fact to back up their arguments. 

“I think we have been let down by the AFL, they have taken us for granted,” Will Hodgman said.

“It is not Tasmania’s fault we do not have an AFL team of our own, it is the AFL’s,” added Nic Street.

“The rivalries in Adelaide, Sydney and Western Australia weren’t a hindrance to those states joining the AFL – in fact, each now has two teams.”

Sarah Courtney chipped in: “It is telling that other sporting codes – including most recently soccer and the Big Bash Cricket League – appear to have a firmer grasp of this than the AFL.”

Fair to say the honeymoon period was over, the trial separation was being discussed and the divorce lawyers were rubbing their hands together.

The affair wasn’t just on the rocks, it was marooned off South East Cape, forced to survive on driftwood and seaweed. 

All the while the limit of parties’ indiscretions continued to emerge.

The AFL had been attempting to buy favours from its Tasmanian clubs, offering huge financial incentives to either leave or stay in the state.

And it had both gambling and alcohol problems, unable to get through a match, it seems, without binging on its favourite mid-strength beer or encouraging betting on the outcome.

Watching  the cracks widen in Tasmania’s equivalent of Brad and Angelina has been compulsive viewing.

Whether the differences are irreconcilable will probably not be known until 2021 when both the latest Hawthorn and North Melbourne deals reach their conclusions.

But whatever happens, for the AFL to say Tasmania is responsible for having no team of its own is almost as hypocritical as the league unleashing its considerable spin operation to promote a competition for a gender it has conveniently ignored for 120 years.