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When hate steps onto the field, silence is no longer an option.

There is a moment in sports when the game stops being about the game. It happens when the scoreboard fades into the background, when tactics and turnovers lose their grip on the narrative. It happens when something much heavier, much uglier, forces its way into the arena. This week, that something was racism.

St Kilda coach Ross Lyon stood before the media, not to discuss matchups or game plans, but to address the vile abuse hurled at his player, Nasiah Wanganeen Milera, in the wake of a loss. The young star had been targeted by online trolls, their words steeped in hatred, their cowardice magnified by anonymity. Lyon did not mince words. He called it what it was. Hate. Disgusting. Unacceptable.

This is not new. Athletes of color, particularly Indigenous players like Wanganeen Milera, have long carried the weight of racism alongside the weight of expectation. They step onto the field under the spotlight of performance, only to be dragged into the shadows of prejudice. What makes this moment different is Lyon's refusal to let it slide. The standards you walk past are the standards you accept, he said. In that phrase, there is a challenge—not just to the AFL, not just to sports fans, but to all of us.

Sports have always been a reflection of society, for better or worse. The same platforms that allow fans to celebrate greatness also give cover to those who spew venom. The anonymity of social media has turned into a shield for bigotry, a place where hate thrives in the absence of accountability. What happened to Wanganeen Milera and Port Adelaide's Jase Burgoyne is not an isolated incident. It is part of a pattern, one that repeats itself whenever the spotlight finds a player who dares to excel while wearing the wrong skin color.

But there is another side to this story. The side where Lyon, a seasoned coach with no obligation to wade into these waters, does so anyway. The side where Wanganeen Milera, instead of shrinking, steps back onto the field, his presence a quiet rebuttal to the noise. The side where the AFL, despite its imperfections, at least begins an investigation. These are small victories in a much larger war, but they matter.

Racism in sports does not exist in a vacuum. It is fed by the same ignorance and fear that pervades the world beyond the stadium. When a player is targeted, it is not just an attack on them. It is an attack on every young athlete who dreams of following in their footsteps, on every fan who sees themselves in their story, on every community that rallies behind them. The damage is not just emotional. It is generational.

This is why Lyon's words carry weight. They echo the sentiments of those who have fought this fight before him, from Nicky Winmar lifting his jersey to Adam Goodes standing tall in the face of relentless abuse. Each time, the message has been the same. This is not just about sport. It is about basic human decency.

The AFL has taken steps to address racism, from education programs to public condemnations. But condemnation is not enough. Neither is education, not when the same ugly rhetoric keeps resurfacing. What is needed is action. Real consequences. A system that does not just call out hate but actively works to dismantle it. Players should not have to be brave to simply exist in their sport. They should not have to armor themselves against the ignorance of strangers.

There is a flicker of hope in the way Wanganeen Milera has handled this. Nothing fazes Nas, Lyon said. That resilience is commendable, but it should not be necessary. The burden of fighting racism should never fall solely on the shoulders of those who endure it. It is a collective responsibility, one that requires allies to speak up, institutions to step up, and fans to demand better.

Sports have the power to unite, to inspire, to heal. But they can also expose the fractures in our society. What happens next will determine whether this moment becomes a turning point or just another footnote in a long, painful history. The game is bigger than the players, the coaches, the fans. It is a mirror. And right now, it is showing us who we are. The question is, what are we going to do about it?

Disclaimer: This content reflects personal opinions about sporting events and figures and is intended for entertainment and commentary purposes. It is not affiliated with any team or organization. No factual claims are made.

Oliver GrantBy Oliver Grant