The problem isn’t just the comment. It’s how normal it sounds.

There’s a moment that happens when a comment like the one from the Collingullie Demons assistant coach lands in public.

People pause. Not because they’re shocked, but because they’ve heard it before.

Women who spend time around sport – as players, volunteers, committee members, administrators or mums on the sidelines – recognised that tone instantly. The careless comment. The off-hand remark. The throwaway line about women’s bodies. The casual joke delivered with a grin and written off as “banter”.

Let’s be clear: familiarity does not make something harmless. It makes it normal.

And normal is where culture lives.

If you’re a woman involved in sport, you know the drill. You hear the comment. You roll your eyes. Maybe you say something. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you just file it away with the thousand other moments where women’s bodies become public conversation for no particular reason. Then the conversation moves on.

What’s fascinating to watch in moments like this is the language that appears once the spotlight turns on the behaviour. All of a sudden the words become very careful.

People stand down.
They step aside.
They take time away from the role.

It’s the soft language of reputational management – careful phrasing that smooths the edges off a situation but stops short of naming why it matters and addressing the cause.

As women who work in storytelling and reputation, we notice this immediately. Words are never neutral. They’re chosen to shape a narrative. And sometimes the narrative becomes less about accountability and more about protecting the institution from the discomfort of the moment.

But here’s the thing about local sport: it really matters.

Community clubs are where kids learn leadership. They’re where young players watch how adults behave, how authority figures speak about women, and what happens when someone crosses a line.

They’re cultural training grounds whether we like it or not.

Which is why this isn’t just about one clumsy comment or one coach having a bad day. It’s about the fact that language like that still finds its way so easily into our public spaces.

And it’s also about the reality of community sport.

Local sporting clubs are a bit like cobwebs – intricate structures held together by dozens of fine threads: volunteers, families, sponsors, friendships and reputations. Tug one strand and the vibration travels across the whole web.

Add to that the fact we live in a relatively small community, where the person making the comment might also be a neighbour, a friend, someone your kids know or someone you see every Saturday morning. Calling things out can feel uncomfortable.

But as women, as mothers, as people involved in sport, and as proud members of this community, we’re allowed to say: this stuff is tired.

And we’re also allowed to expect better from the people leading the spaces our kids grow up in.

Frankly, regional communities are strong enough to handle that conversation.

Bel & Peita