It's probably safe to say any universal expectation that elite sports people should be role models is pretty well misplaced.
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While some, like boxer Harry Garside, fill the space extraordinarily well - and seem comfortable and happy to do so, there is a growing list of more who are not content to be there.
Collingwood footballer Jordan De Goey's portrayal of himself as the victim when he recklessly chose to spend part of his mid-season break partying in Bali and then thoughtlessly engaged in behaviour contrary to that expected of an AFL player, epitomised a growing trend among our sporting elite.
It's perfect captured in just three words - me, me, me!
While the Western Bulldogs' Bailey Smith was substantially more contrite and owned his misdoings - the facts remain that he still made bad choices in the first place.
Whether it's a sense of entitlement in De Goey's case or disappointment in Smith's, it is easy to categorise both as being all about them personally.
Not helping the situation was the revelation this week that the AFL's much-vaunted education programs - introduced in the wake of past misdemeanours and misunderstandings - are now delivered online rather than in person.
As it happens the AFL is not alone - and even sports administrators with decades of experience need to complete a range of modules on various subjects and virtually all with little face to face guidance or challenge. You have to do them - and so you do. But eventually you can develop a skill in moving through them and passing the quizzes in the least amount of time possible.
It's the same for athletes, coaches and technical officials.
Yet when an issue arises for many of these participants in sport, they are dumbfounded that they have done wrong or unintentionally erred.
Fortunately, while the vast majority are aware and compliant when it comes to, say, interacting with vulnerable people, they are way less diligent in relation to sports-wagering or whereabouts provisions for out-of-competition anti-doping controls.
The chances are that this lack of attention to detail would be lessened by face-to-face awareness sessions. Eyeballing those at risk and putting to them a scenario or two would make the world of difference.
Taking weeks to complete a one-hour online learning module because the attention span cannot extend beyond five minutes places everyone at risk.
It's almost certainly time that during salary negotiations with player representatives, any notion of universal value for role modelling should be withdrawn.
Take that chunk of dollars out of the general pool and reward those who are comfortable with, and prepared to take on, these obligations.
Coming from boxing, and especially now he has turned professional, there has probably never been a specified reward or expectation for Garside to be the exceptional role model he has become.
The ballet-dancing, fingernail-painting Australian lightweight champion and Olympic medallist is way more that his visible quirks and undoubted skills in the ring.
Garside is courageous in the broadest of senses, thoughtful and kind. That this has been recognised by media like the ABC that have provided platforms for he and his refreshing mantra to be exposed more broadly, is encouraging.
That it's all too hard for way too many others in sport to take such a path is disappointing.
But back to the education of sportsmen and women - especially those who are more significantly remunerated than their age cohorts in the rest of the Australian community.
It is a nonsense to suggest it's better to provide education programs online in participants' own time. Few who are paid $100,000-plus have more time on their hands than professional footballers. Witness only the prevalence of body art to confirm this.
And how many other jobs provide carefree mid-year breaks when eight weeks of doing your own thing is only three months away.
It's clear today's young sports fans and participants themselves need extra guidance when choosing their heroes.