What do you think?
Rate this book
Night Games: Sex, Power and Sport
'The Pies beat the Saints and the city of Melbourne was still cloaked in black and white crepe paper when the rumour of a pack rape by celebrating footballers began to surface. By morning, the head of the sexual crimes squad confirmed to journalists that they were preparing to question two Collingwood players ... And so, as police were confiscating bed sheets from a townhouse in South Melbourne, the trial by media began.'
What does a young footballer do to cut loose? At night, some play what they think of as pranks, or games. Night games with women. Sometimes these involve consensual sex, but sometimes they don't, and sometimes they fall into a grey area.
In the tradition of Helen Garner's The First Stone comes a closely observed, controversial book about sex, consent and power. In Night Games, Anna Krien follows the rape trial of an Australian Rules footballer. She also takes a balanced and fearless look at the dark side of footy culture – the world of Sam Newman, Ricky Nixon, Matty Johns and the Cronulla Sharks.
Both a courtroom drama and a riveting piece of narrative journalism, this is a breakthrough book from one of the young leading lights of Australian writing.
What does a young footballer do to cut loose? At night, some play what they think of as pranks, or games. Night games with women. Sometimes these involve consensual sex, but sometimes they don't, and sometimes they fall into a grey area.
In the tradition of Helen Garner's The First Stone comes a closely observed, controversial book about sex, consent and power. In Night Games, Anna Krien follows the rape trial of an Australian Rules footballer. She also takes a balanced and fearless look at the dark side of footy culture – the world of Sam Newman, Ricky Nixon, Matty Johns and the Cronulla Sharks.
Both a courtroom drama and a riveting piece of narrative journalism, this is a breakthrough book from one of the young leading lights of Australian writing.
270 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
57 people are currently reading
1518 people want to read
About the author
Anna Krien
17 books61 followersAnna Krien is the author of Night Games: Sex, power and sport, which won the William Hill Sports Book of the Year Award, Into the
Woods: The battle for Tasmania’s forests and Us and Them: On the importance of animals (Quarterly Essay 45). Anna’s work has been
published in the Monthly, the Age, the Big Issue, The Best Australian Essays, Griffith REVIEW, Voiceworks, Going Down Swinging, Colors, Frankie and Dazed & Confused.
Woods: The battle for Tasmania’s forests and Us and Them: On the importance of animals (Quarterly Essay 45). Anna’s work has been
published in the Monthly, the Age, the Big Issue, The Best Australian Essays, Griffith REVIEW, Voiceworks, Going Down Swinging, Colors, Frankie and Dazed & Confused.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 165 reviews
October 26, 2014
So much has been raved about this book that, in my contrary way, I steered clear of it for ages. Also, I hate sport and think the way it's lavishly funded and celebrated as self-evidently great is one of the worst and most corrosive things about Australian culture. Third, I am not a fan of what Helen Garner has turned into a respectable genre for women non-fiction writers in Australia: the personal court case narrative.
I could tell that Krien had done a lot of archival research (of court documents and media coverage), interviews and reportage, and I was impressed by how lightly the book wore the work that had gone into it, and how easy and enjoyable it was to read. But I found parts of it much more persuasive than others. I was disquieted by the absence of the voice of 'Sarah', the girl at the centre of the court case, and how Krien compensates for that absence by filling the book with the presence of 'Justin', the defendant, and his family.
Intellectually I understand Krien's predicament: she doesn't want to project too much of herself onto Sarah, and she also wants a central figure that she can humanise in the book. But I couldn't help feeling that Sarah had now been fucked over three times: first, on the night of her alleged assault; second, by the legal system; and third, by being turned into a spectral presence in this prominent and much-debated book.
When we discussed Night Games at book club, Lucy raised a good point which was that this book is targeted to people who are much less feminist than us. I understand that the edge of Krien's argument might have been blunted by the fine-toothed legalling such a touchy topic would require. I'd be interested to speak privately to her and get her 'real' views – but does the fact I assume she even has more strongly phrased views on this topic reflect my own feminist desire to see this topic written about with a polemical tone of female solidarity and rage?
This, perhaps, explained why I was most persuaded by the sections of the book that meticulously outline the structural misogyny of the football industry, yet I was seriously disquieted by Krien's retreat to a 'grey area' that enables her to soft-pedal and equivocate over wrongs that I would strongly condemn. I was annoyed by the way that Krien kept retreating to 'safe' rhetorical positions such as "but I really like playing sport! I'm one of you!" and "whose version can we really believe?" which is basically ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in book form.
It's laudable not to want to preach to the choir. Krien is trying to get her message across to footy fans who see criticism of rape culture as an attack on the game they love, as well as to young people who think feminism means that women want to make men suffer, or simply that it requires being an unattractive, humourless killjoy all the time. (I was seriously depressed by a vox-pop in an Adelaide student newspaper in which young women refused to identify as feminists because "men and women should be treated as equals" – which is precisely the ongoing struggle in which feminism is engaged, and in which it still has such a long way to go.) To such audiences, Night Games might be a revelation.
It certainly was to Australia's tremendously overrated People's Literary Laureate Brendan Cowell, who says he read this book and even emailed Krien as he was writing his appallingly ill-judged, victim-blaming play The Sublime. If this book – despite all the appallingly routine dehumanisation of women it discusses – simply inspires further creative works that entrench rape culture, then I reckon that's a problem.
I could tell that Krien had done a lot of archival research (of court documents and media coverage), interviews and reportage, and I was impressed by how lightly the book wore the work that had gone into it, and how easy and enjoyable it was to read. But I found parts of it much more persuasive than others. I was disquieted by the absence of the voice of 'Sarah', the girl at the centre of the court case, and how Krien compensates for that absence by filling the book with the presence of 'Justin', the defendant, and his family.
Intellectually I understand Krien's predicament: she doesn't want to project too much of herself onto Sarah, and she also wants a central figure that she can humanise in the book. But I couldn't help feeling that Sarah had now been fucked over three times: first, on the night of her alleged assault; second, by the legal system; and third, by being turned into a spectral presence in this prominent and much-debated book.
When we discussed Night Games at book club, Lucy raised a good point which was that this book is targeted to people who are much less feminist than us. I understand that the edge of Krien's argument might have been blunted by the fine-toothed legalling such a touchy topic would require. I'd be interested to speak privately to her and get her 'real' views – but does the fact I assume she even has more strongly phrased views on this topic reflect my own feminist desire to see this topic written about with a polemical tone of female solidarity and rage?
This, perhaps, explained why I was most persuaded by the sections of the book that meticulously outline the structural misogyny of the football industry, yet I was seriously disquieted by Krien's retreat to a 'grey area' that enables her to soft-pedal and equivocate over wrongs that I would strongly condemn. I was annoyed by the way that Krien kept retreating to 'safe' rhetorical positions such as "but I really like playing sport! I'm one of you!" and "whose version can we really believe?" which is basically ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in book form.
It's laudable not to want to preach to the choir. Krien is trying to get her message across to footy fans who see criticism of rape culture as an attack on the game they love, as well as to young people who think feminism means that women want to make men suffer, or simply that it requires being an unattractive, humourless killjoy all the time. (I was seriously depressed by a vox-pop in an Adelaide student newspaper in which young women refused to identify as feminists because "men and women should be treated as equals" – which is precisely the ongoing struggle in which feminism is engaged, and in which it still has such a long way to go.) To such audiences, Night Games might be a revelation.
It certainly was to Australia's tremendously overrated People's Literary Laureate Brendan Cowell, who says he read this book and even emailed Krien as he was writing his appallingly ill-judged, victim-blaming play The Sublime. If this book – despite all the appallingly routine dehumanisation of women it discusses – simply inspires further creative works that entrench rape culture, then I reckon that's a problem.
May 19, 2019
This book is about the rape trial of an Australian Rules footballer. Collingwood players, Dayne Beams, and John McCarthy, were accused of raping a woman, in a Melbourne townhouse, after their team’s 2010 Grand Final victory. A local league footballer, Fraser James Pope, a friend of the Collingwood players, was accused of raping her in the alley outside the townhouse shortly afterward. Of the three, only Fraser was charged, and went to trial.
Anna became 'close' to Fraser's family. The woman refused to talk with her, as is her right. So, the viewpoints aren't exactly balanced, but this happens often in books about trials, in my reading experience.
As you can imagine, the subject matter brings into consideration the issues of sexism in sport, rape laws, and heaps more. If you're interested in these topics, you'd probably like reading this book.
3 Stars = I'm glad I read it.
Anna became 'close' to Fraser's family. The woman refused to talk with her, as is her right. So, the viewpoints aren't exactly balanced, but this happens often in books about trials, in my reading experience.
As you can imagine, the subject matter brings into consideration the issues of sexism in sport, rape laws, and heaps more. If you're interested in these topics, you'd probably like reading this book.
3 Stars = I'm glad I read it.
June 27, 2017
I am slightly conflicted about this book. Okay, it is good, and does in many ways, what a book should do - raise conversation about a subject. Krien is writing, on one hand, about the sexism in Aussie football, and on the other hand, about one particular rape case that was a the result of the sexism. The parts about the football culture that includes rape, abuse, or bad treatment of women are the most intersting parts of the book. The sections about the rape are a source of conflict.
To be fair, Krien herself realizes this.
In part, this conflict is caused by the Aussie justice system itself, and in part because the woman in the trial did not grant an interview to Krien. Not that I blame her. Krien points out that due to lack of interaction with the woman, she [Krien] found herself getting closer to the man's family. Part of what Krien seems to be trying to work out here is her own self of lost objectively (which she does own and question right from the start) as well as what is a legal defination of rape - especially with all the misinformation about rape that circles around. In other words, she invents the reader along to figure this out. Though, at times, she almost seems to endose the men are from mars, women are from venus cliche. In many of her examples, it seems more of a case of ingrained sexism, ingrainted by society.
It is uncomfortable reading, but important reading.
To be fair, Krien herself realizes this.
In part, this conflict is caused by the Aussie justice system itself, and in part because the woman in the trial did not grant an interview to Krien. Not that I blame her. Krien points out that due to lack of interaction with the woman, she [Krien] found herself getting closer to the man's family. Part of what Krien seems to be trying to work out here is her own self of lost objectively (which she does own and question right from the start) as well as what is a legal defination of rape - especially with all the misinformation about rape that circles around. In other words, she invents the reader along to figure this out. Though, at times, she almost seems to endose the men are from mars, women are from venus cliche. In many of her examples, it seems more of a case of ingrained sexism, ingrainted by society.
It is uncomfortable reading, but important reading.
July 30, 2013
“She had no language to explain the grey zone, to explain what was lost in translation between the sexes.” Night Games is about sex, consent and power. The writer Anna Krien traces the trial of a young VFL footballer accused of rape after a Big Night Out in 2010. Like the writing of Helen Garner or Chloe Hooper, the writer is solidly in this story, describing her emotions as she watches the trial unfold. And, as occurred in The First Stone, Krien only has access to one half of the participants in the story; the young man and his family. The trial is a trigger for a more complex examination of what is happening in our culture.
I read it against this backdrop. In the same week, a group of Defence Force personnel was accused of having sex with women and filming what went on without their consent. They called themselves 'The Jedi Council'. In that week too, then Prime Minister Gillard was vilified in the press for playing “the misogyny card”. It seemed to me that issues relating to gender were alive and well on Australia. About one week later, Gillard was gone and what seemed to be left was the exposure of a long raw nerve of sexism that is alive and well in mainstream Australia.
This book ranges from incidents on The Footy Show to analysing the ways in which men create bonds amongst themselves. Krien goes to sociologist Jonathan Wynn after talking about an incident on The Footy Show that belittled footy writer Caroline Wilson. She says that ‘pranks’ serve ‘to maintain social boundaries in groups as various as police departments and sororities. And you gain status by being picked on in some ways. It can be a kind of flattery, if you’re being brought in.” She writes that it was not about Wilson” it was about them, the men on the show. I actually think it’s about two things –that specific male rituals (examples included the Huddle – the victory Chopper – flipping out your dick, someone pissing on you, camel night – everyone gets a hump) shore up the bonds between the group but they are also often about a hatred of women or fear of the other than can safely play out in these team activities. She says: “Women have been used – as have homosexuals, aka faggots and poofters – to reinforce a certain code of masculinity and hierarchy.”
At one stage, Krien interviews writer and ex-footballer Tony Wilson: “When I asked Wilson about some of the antics that he and his teammates got up to off the field, he rubbed his face as if trying to gauge what expression he ought to have when talking about his playing days, a time in his life he loved, despite knowing, even then that something was amiss.” He knows that stuff they did was wrong but part of him liked it.
Two things were of particular interest to me. I was on a jury a couple of years ago – I thought this description of the jury was interesting, though I didn’t feel that we were groping around in the case I was involved in. The rape trial described in this book was complex; there were football players who apparently had consensual sex with the woman making the charge of rape immediately prior to the alleged crime. Much of this information was suppressed in the trial. Krien writes: “As I watched the barristers and judge return to their legal triangle of barely decipherable, coded language, I realised that the jury members were more like precious children than wise sages. It was as if they would be kept in a large dark room with the occasional torch shedding light on a piece of evidence or a witness, but the rest of the time were to grope around or, at precarious times, let themselves be led carefully around great potholes of backstory.”
And I’m really interested in the idea of “the grey zone”. Krien says that while the usual presumption about behaviour when confronted with potential harm is fight or flight. She says that a very common reaction is “freeze”. She seems to be arguing that this is often a response to unwanted sex or to ambiguity about the sex. The woman freezes. She doesn’t know what to do. Maybe the situation is awkward or scary. In this case, the message to the man may not be entirely clear. And when you combine elements like football celebrity, alcohol, group sex and generally being strung out at 4 or 5 in the morning, it’s not always clear. Don’t get me wrong here – raunch culture is pervasive, “no” means no, and women have a right to say “no” whenever they like. I think Krien is saying, and I think I agree with her, that in these contexts, it is not always clear-cut what is happening. “I couldn’t say I detected a nuanced understanding of what had happened in the wee hours of the morning after the grand final, let alone any humility … To them, Sarah is a liar, a bitch and a slut. And the disrespect and inhumanity with which they treated her and thought of her is one quality they may find themselves sharing with [a] lone [predator-style] rapist. Malice, after all, can be built on ignorance.”
James Button writes: “So, “is it rape, or is it treating women like shit?” Krien leaves the question open, but concludes that the courts are not the place where it can be answered. “It’s not where progress is made. It’s just where things end up.” She thinks it’s time for a braver discussion about the complexities of consent and rape. People are afraid it would “unravel some 40 years of feminist spadework ... But surely feminism isn’t that fragile. And isn’t it obvious that people are already confused? For despite the law being clear on the definition of consent, neither the police nor the public prosecutors seem to have much faith in a jury’s ability to convict in certain cases, even if they do satisfy the legal criteria.””
Can I just finish with this stat: the estimated conviction rate for those accused of rape in Victoria is EXTREMELY low (Krien says it is about 16 %) – read this article for more info: http://www.theage.com.au/federal-poli...
I read it against this backdrop. In the same week, a group of Defence Force personnel was accused of having sex with women and filming what went on without their consent. They called themselves 'The Jedi Council'. In that week too, then Prime Minister Gillard was vilified in the press for playing “the misogyny card”. It seemed to me that issues relating to gender were alive and well on Australia. About one week later, Gillard was gone and what seemed to be left was the exposure of a long raw nerve of sexism that is alive and well in mainstream Australia.
This book ranges from incidents on The Footy Show to analysing the ways in which men create bonds amongst themselves. Krien goes to sociologist Jonathan Wynn after talking about an incident on The Footy Show that belittled footy writer Caroline Wilson. She says that ‘pranks’ serve ‘to maintain social boundaries in groups as various as police departments and sororities. And you gain status by being picked on in some ways. It can be a kind of flattery, if you’re being brought in.” She writes that it was not about Wilson” it was about them, the men on the show. I actually think it’s about two things –that specific male rituals (examples included the Huddle – the victory Chopper – flipping out your dick, someone pissing on you, camel night – everyone gets a hump) shore up the bonds between the group but they are also often about a hatred of women or fear of the other than can safely play out in these team activities. She says: “Women have been used – as have homosexuals, aka faggots and poofters – to reinforce a certain code of masculinity and hierarchy.”
At one stage, Krien interviews writer and ex-footballer Tony Wilson: “When I asked Wilson about some of the antics that he and his teammates got up to off the field, he rubbed his face as if trying to gauge what expression he ought to have when talking about his playing days, a time in his life he loved, despite knowing, even then that something was amiss.” He knows that stuff they did was wrong but part of him liked it.
Two things were of particular interest to me. I was on a jury a couple of years ago – I thought this description of the jury was interesting, though I didn’t feel that we were groping around in the case I was involved in. The rape trial described in this book was complex; there were football players who apparently had consensual sex with the woman making the charge of rape immediately prior to the alleged crime. Much of this information was suppressed in the trial. Krien writes: “As I watched the barristers and judge return to their legal triangle of barely decipherable, coded language, I realised that the jury members were more like precious children than wise sages. It was as if they would be kept in a large dark room with the occasional torch shedding light on a piece of evidence or a witness, but the rest of the time were to grope around or, at precarious times, let themselves be led carefully around great potholes of backstory.”
And I’m really interested in the idea of “the grey zone”. Krien says that while the usual presumption about behaviour when confronted with potential harm is fight or flight. She says that a very common reaction is “freeze”. She seems to be arguing that this is often a response to unwanted sex or to ambiguity about the sex. The woman freezes. She doesn’t know what to do. Maybe the situation is awkward or scary. In this case, the message to the man may not be entirely clear. And when you combine elements like football celebrity, alcohol, group sex and generally being strung out at 4 or 5 in the morning, it’s not always clear. Don’t get me wrong here – raunch culture is pervasive, “no” means no, and women have a right to say “no” whenever they like. I think Krien is saying, and I think I agree with her, that in these contexts, it is not always clear-cut what is happening. “I couldn’t say I detected a nuanced understanding of what had happened in the wee hours of the morning after the grand final, let alone any humility … To them, Sarah is a liar, a bitch and a slut. And the disrespect and inhumanity with which they treated her and thought of her is one quality they may find themselves sharing with [a] lone [predator-style] rapist. Malice, after all, can be built on ignorance.”
James Button writes: “So, “is it rape, or is it treating women like shit?” Krien leaves the question open, but concludes that the courts are not the place where it can be answered. “It’s not where progress is made. It’s just where things end up.” She thinks it’s time for a braver discussion about the complexities of consent and rape. People are afraid it would “unravel some 40 years of feminist spadework ... But surely feminism isn’t that fragile. And isn’t it obvious that people are already confused? For despite the law being clear on the definition of consent, neither the police nor the public prosecutors seem to have much faith in a jury’s ability to convict in certain cases, even if they do satisfy the legal criteria.””
Can I just finish with this stat: the estimated conviction rate for those accused of rape in Victoria is EXTREMELY low (Krien says it is about 16 %) – read this article for more info: http://www.theage.com.au/federal-poli...
Read
February 21, 2017Trigger warning: rape, sexual assault.
I have no idea how to rate this because of the subject matter. I have so many thoughts and feelings. Will try and write a full review/opinion once I've had some time to gather my thoughts. Whilst I don't necessarily agree with Krien's complete stance, I definitely recommend this to anyone who's interested in sport, feminism and rape culture. Even though it's prominently about AFL, it brings up a lot of general issues regarding the treatment of women in the world of sports.
I have no idea how to rate this because of the subject matter. I have so many thoughts and feelings. Will try and write a full review/opinion once I've had some time to gather my thoughts. Whilst I don't necessarily agree with Krien's complete stance, I definitely recommend this to anyone who's interested in sport, feminism and rape culture. Even though it's prominently about AFL, it brings up a lot of general issues regarding the treatment of women in the world of sports.
December 18, 2013
Night Games by Anna Krien examines rape culture in AFL. Suffice to say, it made me a bit mad. Not just because of the nature of the issue (although that was a big part of it), but the book is centred around a rape trial, and I wasn’t completely comfortable with the way she covered it.What happened was, after the night of the (tie-breaker) grand final between Collingwood and St Kilda (coincidentally the only year I paid attention to the AFL), two Collingwood players and a guy from a small local team were accused of raping a young woman.Due to what I can only call legal shenanigans, the two Collingwood players were never charged, so this young, unknown bloke was left holding the ball, as it were.
The court decided that the events that took place before this third alleged rape could not be mentioned or used as evidence in any way, which basically created a big blank spot in the evening, and created enough doubt that the jury basically had to find the young footballer not guilty.
Krien follows the trial closely, and is scrupulous about reporting the accused’s family’s vicious victim-blaming and general unpleasantness. But the victim didn’t respond to any of Krien’s overtures, plus her evidence was heard in a closed court. So her voice is, essentially, silent. And in what purports to be a feminist examination of a rape trial, that’s a pretty big omission. (I’m not saying that the victim wasn’t perfectly within her rights to decline to speak to Krien, but I think it was a bad idea to persist with the trial as the centrepiece of the book in that case.)
She does, however, highlight a particular peeve I have with the Victorian legal system. In this state, a “genuine belief in consent” is enough to escape a conviction for rape. This has led to delightful circumstances like, “She was unconscious, but she grunted when I undressed her, so she was totally into it, Your Honour.” I transcribe criminal court proceedings. I DO A LOT OF ANGRY!TYPING!
The court decided that the events that took place before this third alleged rape could not be mentioned or used as evidence in any way, which basically created a big blank spot in the evening, and created enough doubt that the jury basically had to find the young footballer not guilty.
Krien follows the trial closely, and is scrupulous about reporting the accused’s family’s vicious victim-blaming and general unpleasantness. But the victim didn’t respond to any of Krien’s overtures, plus her evidence was heard in a closed court. So her voice is, essentially, silent. And in what purports to be a feminist examination of a rape trial, that’s a pretty big omission. (I’m not saying that the victim wasn’t perfectly within her rights to decline to speak to Krien, but I think it was a bad idea to persist with the trial as the centrepiece of the book in that case.)
She does, however, highlight a particular peeve I have with the Victorian legal system. In this state, a “genuine belief in consent” is enough to escape a conviction for rape. This has led to delightful circumstances like, “She was unconscious, but she grunted when I undressed her, so she was totally into it, Your Honour.” I transcribe criminal court proceedings. I DO A LOT OF ANGRY!TYPING!
July 22, 2019
Immediately, starting this read gets my blood boiling. I remember these AFL incidents, the media buzz, the victim blaming, the closing ranks of rich football clubs, and the rumours that flew around Melbourne circles at the time, closer to the truth than the media stories.
This is one of Australia's #MeToo moments, swept under the rug by powerful men in high positions, clubs with money and reputations to protect, and with women as collateral damage.
The story of a scapegoat player taking the spotlight away from the real torrid tale of a night of a grand final win, and the sexual scoring of a group of young men showing off to each other - with no regard for the young woman involved.
Examining the footy pedestal complex in the Australian love affair with the AFL and NRL worlds, Krien puts a lens to the 'boys will be boys' and 'what happens on tour, stays on tour' mentalities of football culture. The power, the disrespect of women and minority or difference, and the media that feeds on it.
This examination is of one story, with a bigger story, within the bigger picture. So much of this made me infuriated, and many times I needed to put it down to calm the rage.
The review of consent, the grey areas of not saying yes, of being in a powerless position to object to something being done to you.
Footy culture, and the infantile boys club. These antics are revolting - and to the benefit of no one. Everyone is a loser here.
Krien has laid out the sordid not-well-kept secrets of the football world, in an examination of sex, consent, rape, and accepted culture. I know it will leave a mark in my mind to think over for weeks to come.
This is one of Australia's #MeToo moments, swept under the rug by powerful men in high positions, clubs with money and reputations to protect, and with women as collateral damage.
The story of a scapegoat player taking the spotlight away from the real torrid tale of a night of a grand final win, and the sexual scoring of a group of young men showing off to each other - with no regard for the young woman involved.
Examining the footy pedestal complex in the Australian love affair with the AFL and NRL worlds, Krien puts a lens to the 'boys will be boys' and 'what happens on tour, stays on tour' mentalities of football culture. The power, the disrespect of women and minority or difference, and the media that feeds on it.
This examination is of one story, with a bigger story, within the bigger picture. So much of this made me infuriated, and many times I needed to put it down to calm the rage.
The review of consent, the grey areas of not saying yes, of being in a powerless position to object to something being done to you.
Footy culture, and the infantile boys club. These antics are revolting - and to the benefit of no one. Everyone is a loser here.
Krien has laid out the sordid not-well-kept secrets of the football world, in an examination of sex, consent, rape, and accepted culture. I know it will leave a mark in my mind to think over for weeks to come.
August 12, 2020
A really important book, but I struggled in many parts with the author inserting herself into the narrative or comparing elite sporting moments to her own experiences in social basketball - it was a bit remiscent of Leigh Sales's book in that regard and it broke the flow of the story for me too often.
Also, this is a very NSW/QLD complaint but the constant shortening of rugby league to 'rugby' was really jarring and the fact that it was often done in quotes from people who would never use that shortening threw some doubt into my mind about the overall accuracy of the quotes.
I also think too much focus went on to 'balance' and telling the stories of the very tiny number of rape allegations that are proven to be false. The constant worry about how rape allegations ruin a man's life, when there are so many examples of this not being true, even when the rape did actually occur was something I found tough as well.
Also, this is a very NSW/QLD complaint but the constant shortening of rugby league to 'rugby' was really jarring and the fact that it was often done in quotes from people who would never use that shortening threw some doubt into my mind about the overall accuracy of the quotes.
I also think too much focus went on to 'balance' and telling the stories of the very tiny number of rape allegations that are proven to be false. The constant worry about how rape allegations ruin a man's life, when there are so many examples of this not being true, even when the rape did actually occur was something I found tough as well.
September 28, 2014
Well written interesting investigation of the trial that took place as a result of the rape allegation after the Collingwood Grand Final win in 2010.
This is not the type of book that you "enjoy", but I'm glad that I've now read it.
The writer Anna Krien takes a balanced point of view, and manages to link the central story in with many others of a similar nature that have occurred in both the AFL and NRL. Two minor negatives that i have are:
1) Why no foot notes or bibliography?
2) Fleshing out the character's of the two involved in the court case would have added to the story
Overall though a well written interesting book,
This is not the type of book that you "enjoy", but I'm glad that I've now read it.
The writer Anna Krien takes a balanced point of view, and manages to link the central story in with many others of a similar nature that have occurred in both the AFL and NRL. Two minor negatives that i have are:
1) Why no foot notes or bibliography?
2) Fleshing out the character's of the two involved in the court case would have added to the story
Overall though a well written interesting book,
Read
May 31, 2025extremely of its time examination of rape culture in australian sport. I can't say I agreed with a lot of the authors takes (and in general, I just think society has moved past some things she mulls) but I do think this is a valuable examination of how the sport system protects perpetrators and the court systems fails victims and isn't able to handle the nuances of rape and sexual assault cases.
June 25, 2013
In some ways, this is Tall Man: The Death of Doomadgee for sex and sport. A murky case (arguably), a trial, a journalist's concern that integrity and objectivity has been compromised.
Krien has copped a bit of flak for the latter - although she has also been defended for making her uncertainties unclear from the outset. To be honest, I do not envy the task that Krien set herself. As she admits toward the end, a part of her wished she had picked a more straightforward case with a clear victim and villain. But a clearer case perhaps would not have given her the opportunity to explore some of the grey and tricky areas that this case opened up.
These explorations of gender and football culture are the strongest moments in the book, much stronger than her coverage of the case itself or her attempts to draw weak parallels between herself and the alleged victim. Krien delves effectively into the psychology and sociology of football culture in Australia, but I would hope that this invites us to think about society more broadly and the extent to which one is borne from the other.
I don't know where I stand on the case itself, but I don't think it exonerates Justin Dyer to acknowledge that he was a scapegoat. As much as Krien reveals about the unequal power and gender relations in football culture, she also highlights its various forms and levels of corruption. Krien freely admits to being compromised; it is sporting culture and footballing organisations that frequently dwell in denial.
Krien has copped a bit of flak for the latter - although she has also been defended for making her uncertainties unclear from the outset. To be honest, I do not envy the task that Krien set herself. As she admits toward the end, a part of her wished she had picked a more straightforward case with a clear victim and villain. But a clearer case perhaps would not have given her the opportunity to explore some of the grey and tricky areas that this case opened up.
These explorations of gender and football culture are the strongest moments in the book, much stronger than her coverage of the case itself or her attempts to draw weak parallels between herself and the alleged victim. Krien delves effectively into the psychology and sociology of football culture in Australia, but I would hope that this invites us to think about society more broadly and the extent to which one is borne from the other.
I don't know where I stand on the case itself, but I don't think it exonerates Justin Dyer to acknowledge that he was a scapegoat. As much as Krien reveals about the unequal power and gender relations in football culture, she also highlights its various forms and levels of corruption. Krien freely admits to being compromised; it is sporting culture and footballing organisations that frequently dwell in denial.
November 13, 2019
As a huge sports fan (both men's and women's sport)I was keen to read this book. The culture and power of men's sport is particularly fascinating. The book used a rape trial of an AFL player as a back story to discuss these broader issues. The author is a very engaging writer and she didn't take sides, which for me was refreshing. I'm always disappointed to hear of others (particularly women) who think because a women consents to sex with one man that means she's fair game for others whether she consents or not. The public still only seems to believe that a rapist is a stranger and the victim must be covered in bruises and scratches from "fighting" back. It's so much more complex than that and this book talks about these grey areas and the culture of these elite sportsmen. This quote particularly stood out for me 'she’s a ball and everyone gets a touch’. It's behaviour that I don't understand can be "bonding" but the author does a great job at demonstrating that they do. I would recommend this book for sports fans, players, men, women, everyone! Unfortunately I don't think those footballers who are entrenched in this culture and unrepentant will bother and question their behaviour.
June 16, 2013
My only complaint is the lack of footnotes. When did non-fiction writers stop documenting their sources? I kept turning to the back to see where and when a particular quote came from and there was nothing.
August 10, 2013
A must read for any woman who considers herself a feminist and a footy fan.
Confronting, depressing and yet one of the most important books written about the world of football and sexual politics.
A very balanced take on a very murky culture.
Confronting, depressing and yet one of the most important books written about the world of football and sexual politics.
A very balanced take on a very murky culture.
January 16, 2015
I really wanted to like this book a lot more than I actually did. Anna Krien mentions Helen Garner's 'The First Stone' and it seems obvious that she was aiming to make this book a similar thing. 'The First Stone' pissed me off, a lot. Garner's views on that whole subject clashed with my own and I was annoyed and frustrated throughout most of reading it, but I think it was still worth reading because of Helen Garner's talent. Unfortunately, Anna Krien just doesn't seem to have that same talent. The 'personal narrative' parts of Night Games just seemed kind of awkwardly tacked on, they didn't flow with the rest of the book (which was a well written regular old non-fiction book about sex, sexism, feminism, sport, rape, footy culture etc etc). I think the difference is that Helen Garner's personal point of view was all over The First Stone, while Anna Krien's personal opinions just came and went on different pages. 'Awkward' is the best word for it, I think.
She could have (should have) just scrapped the entire 'following the court case' parts of this book, especially when the victim didn't want to speak to her. I don't really need to hear about the accused mother's gross victim blaming and slut shaming and all the rest, and reading all that crap while knowing that the author not only sat with the accused's family throughout most of the case but celebrated with them when he was found not guilty just made me think Krien was a jerk. Night Games was made worse by the inclusion of this personal narrative crap, and it's a shame because most of the rest of the book was interesting and well written.
I think the hype around this book was more because of the general, current subject of it than it was about the actual quality of the book or the writing. If GoodReads allowed half star ratings, I would have given this 2.5 but it doesn't and I don't think it's worth three stars so two it is. It's an okay book but I don't think you'll be missing much if you skip it.
She could have (should have) just scrapped the entire 'following the court case' parts of this book, especially when the victim didn't want to speak to her. I don't really need to hear about the accused mother's gross victim blaming and slut shaming and all the rest, and reading all that crap while knowing that the author not only sat with the accused's family throughout most of the case but celebrated with them when he was found not guilty just made me think Krien was a jerk. Night Games was made worse by the inclusion of this personal narrative crap, and it's a shame because most of the rest of the book was interesting and well written.
I think the hype around this book was more because of the general, current subject of it than it was about the actual quality of the book or the writing. If GoodReads allowed half star ratings, I would have given this 2.5 but it doesn't and I don't think it's worth three stars so two it is. It's an okay book but I don't think you'll be missing much if you skip it.
November 29, 2013
I got this as a freebie because I bought a Crikey subscription, and hadn't previously heard of it, but the subject matter immediately interested me, as a criminal lawyer, feminist and footy fan.
The publisher's blurb describes this as "in the tradition of Helen Garner's The First Stone" and Garner is thanked in the acknowledgements. The approach is certainly similar: an analysis of a recent, relatively high profile rape case, examination of the wider context in which the alleged offending occurred, and the author and her conflicted, shifting opinions and commentary on the participants being a central part of the narrative. I remember being extremely irritated and infuriated by The First Stone when I first read it as a uni student - not just the style, but the attitudes and preconceptions expressed within it - and over 20 years on, I felt the same in relation to this book at certain points, although not as strongly.
The book starts with the end of the trial which Krien followed from its beginning, a case which was heard in the past year or so. She has chosen to give pseudonyms to the accused, his family and the complainant (apart from the AFL footballers who gave evidence), as Garner did in The First Stone, although anyone who followed the case in Melbourne at the time probably won't take too long to work out which one it was. Those who didn't don't need to know the real names - obviously the complainant can't be identified legally anyway.
Krien writes fluently and without pretension, and I found it a relatively quick, if not "easy", read. The stronger and more compelling parts of the book were where she looks at the wider and frequently toxic culture of Australia's major football codes over the decades - the intense male bonding, the exclusion of women altogether or treatment of them as hangers-on, support players or simply irrelevant, the code of silence, the complicity of the journalists who cover the sport. Krien features some revealing interviews with former players, coaches and others, and also examines, though not in as much detail, instances in football codes overseas.
On to the parts that annoyed me. For someone who spent a large part of her research for the book sitting in a court room, for the committal and the trial, there are some irritating errors which wouldn't have taken too much trouble to check and get right, and unnecessary dramatic flourishes, for example in just the first few pages:
1) "As to the charge of rape, we the jury find the defendant not guilty": Now I wasn't in that court room that day, but I can tell you with almost absolute certainty that the jury foreperson never said that. Because they don't, not in the state where this case was heard. They only say that on TV. The foreperson would only have said either "guilty" or "not guilty" in response to the judge's Associate's question on each count - the only time I saw a foreman try to amp up his big moment by adding some theatrics to the verdict, the judge quickly pulled him on it. Also, it's "the accused" not "the defendant", and if the author was in court every day, she would have heard the former term used constantly.
2) the solicitor for the complainant sits facing the court: Really? Unless something really unusual occurred, I think you'll find
that was the instructing solicitor for the prosecution. Who doesn't act for the complainant. She, and the barrister she briefed, represent the Crown or the State - in effect, the community. To outsiders, it's a fine distinction and I know it sounds pedantic, but it's really important, because to assume the prosecution and the lawyer for the victim are one and the same often gives rise to a certain set of expectations which can never be fulfilled.
There's something unsettling about a book examining the objectification and abuse of women in a particular cultural context nonetheless seeming to engage in its own form of objectification. Why do we need to know that the complainant was, in the author's opinion, "beautiful and blonde"? What is the relevance of the passing comment on the appearance of the female prosecution solicitor, who, we are told, has a "Mona Lisa smile"? These seem like more than mere descriptions to bring the scene to life. I'm not necessarily saying the author by definition shouldn't have included these, but there's a reductiveness about such terminology which seems at odds with what she's trying to do.
I'm a bit torn too about the Garner-esque self-insertion into the story. Although she had ready access to the accused and his family, and became quite close to them, Krien was unable to speak to the complainant - who chose not to respond to her attempts at contact, as was her right - nor could she sit on her evidence, which was heard in camera (again, a complainant's legal right). So there's a proportion of the book devoted to Krien's examination of her own attitudes towards this woman whom she hasn't been able to meet, speak to or see in court. At times during reading, I found myself thinking, "Oh for heaven's sake! Don't be so self-indulgent! You don't have some God-given right to speak to her or watch her evidence!" On reflection though, I found it an important insight into how an effective outsider responds to the limited evidence available about a given case. Krien questions whether she is projecting onto the complainant her own attitudes and preconceptions, and there is an undercurrent of frustration that she is unable to get the same sense of this person who is so central to this case as a human being, as she was with the accused. She worries as a result about her own ability to be objective. I also found the insights into the accused and his family as people very interesting. It is frequently tempting to dehumanise either or both protagonists in a sensationalised criminal case: I wish more journalists and commentators who write about these cases, often reducing the accused and complainant to two dimensional archetypes or symbols, depending on their particular spin on it (the "sex fiend" as opposed to the "good bloke falsely accused"; the "nice girl and tragic victim" contrasted with "the groupie", "the slut", "the liar") would engage in similar rigorous soul-searching every now and then.
Krien also highlights the disconnect between what the law says on the one hand, and community attitudes to what constitutes rape or sexual assault on the other. In doing so she raises questions or suggests things (for example, commentary on areas of the law) that I cannot agree with, but again, having thought about it, it's important that as a society we do discuss these things. Being immersed in the criminal justice system on a daily basis, I forget that legal principles, practices and procedures I take for granted might be surprising, confronting or bizarre to someone who isn't regularly exposed to it. This is a topic I feel very strongly about, and I won't digress into my own views here - I think I've done that enough. Suffice it to say, while I found this book flawed and frustrating at times, it's very well written and I'm glad I read it. It made me think.
The publisher's blurb describes this as "in the tradition of Helen Garner's The First Stone" and Garner is thanked in the acknowledgements. The approach is certainly similar: an analysis of a recent, relatively high profile rape case, examination of the wider context in which the alleged offending occurred, and the author and her conflicted, shifting opinions and commentary on the participants being a central part of the narrative. I remember being extremely irritated and infuriated by The First Stone when I first read it as a uni student - not just the style, but the attitudes and preconceptions expressed within it - and over 20 years on, I felt the same in relation to this book at certain points, although not as strongly.
The book starts with the end of the trial which Krien followed from its beginning, a case which was heard in the past year or so. She has chosen to give pseudonyms to the accused, his family and the complainant (apart from the AFL footballers who gave evidence), as Garner did in The First Stone, although anyone who followed the case in Melbourne at the time probably won't take too long to work out which one it was. Those who didn't don't need to know the real names - obviously the complainant can't be identified legally anyway.
Krien writes fluently and without pretension, and I found it a relatively quick, if not "easy", read. The stronger and more compelling parts of the book were where she looks at the wider and frequently toxic culture of Australia's major football codes over the decades - the intense male bonding, the exclusion of women altogether or treatment of them as hangers-on, support players or simply irrelevant, the code of silence, the complicity of the journalists who cover the sport. Krien features some revealing interviews with former players, coaches and others, and also examines, though not in as much detail, instances in football codes overseas.
On to the parts that annoyed me. For someone who spent a large part of her research for the book sitting in a court room, for the committal and the trial, there are some irritating errors which wouldn't have taken too much trouble to check and get right, and unnecessary dramatic flourishes, for example in just the first few pages:
1) "As to the charge of rape, we the jury find the defendant not guilty": Now I wasn't in that court room that day, but I can tell you with almost absolute certainty that the jury foreperson never said that. Because they don't, not in the state where this case was heard. They only say that on TV. The foreperson would only have said either "guilty" or "not guilty" in response to the judge's Associate's question on each count - the only time I saw a foreman try to amp up his big moment by adding some theatrics to the verdict, the judge quickly pulled him on it. Also, it's "the accused" not "the defendant", and if the author was in court every day, she would have heard the former term used constantly.
2) the solicitor for the complainant sits facing the court: Really? Unless something really unusual occurred, I think you'll find
that was the instructing solicitor for the prosecution. Who doesn't act for the complainant. She, and the barrister she briefed, represent the Crown or the State - in effect, the community. To outsiders, it's a fine distinction and I know it sounds pedantic, but it's really important, because to assume the prosecution and the lawyer for the victim are one and the same often gives rise to a certain set of expectations which can never be fulfilled.
There's something unsettling about a book examining the objectification and abuse of women in a particular cultural context nonetheless seeming to engage in its own form of objectification. Why do we need to know that the complainant was, in the author's opinion, "beautiful and blonde"? What is the relevance of the passing comment on the appearance of the female prosecution solicitor, who, we are told, has a "Mona Lisa smile"? These seem like more than mere descriptions to bring the scene to life. I'm not necessarily saying the author by definition shouldn't have included these, but there's a reductiveness about such terminology which seems at odds with what she's trying to do.
I'm a bit torn too about the Garner-esque self-insertion into the story. Although she had ready access to the accused and his family, and became quite close to them, Krien was unable to speak to the complainant - who chose not to respond to her attempts at contact, as was her right - nor could she sit on her evidence, which was heard in camera (again, a complainant's legal right). So there's a proportion of the book devoted to Krien's examination of her own attitudes towards this woman whom she hasn't been able to meet, speak to or see in court. At times during reading, I found myself thinking, "Oh for heaven's sake! Don't be so self-indulgent! You don't have some God-given right to speak to her or watch her evidence!" On reflection though, I found it an important insight into how an effective outsider responds to the limited evidence available about a given case. Krien questions whether she is projecting onto the complainant her own attitudes and preconceptions, and there is an undercurrent of frustration that she is unable to get the same sense of this person who is so central to this case as a human being, as she was with the accused. She worries as a result about her own ability to be objective. I also found the insights into the accused and his family as people very interesting. It is frequently tempting to dehumanise either or both protagonists in a sensationalised criminal case: I wish more journalists and commentators who write about these cases, often reducing the accused and complainant to two dimensional archetypes or symbols, depending on their particular spin on it (the "sex fiend" as opposed to the "good bloke falsely accused"; the "nice girl and tragic victim" contrasted with "the groupie", "the slut", "the liar") would engage in similar rigorous soul-searching every now and then.
Krien also highlights the disconnect between what the law says on the one hand, and community attitudes to what constitutes rape or sexual assault on the other. In doing so she raises questions or suggests things (for example, commentary on areas of the law) that I cannot agree with, but again, having thought about it, it's important that as a society we do discuss these things. Being immersed in the criminal justice system on a daily basis, I forget that legal principles, practices and procedures I take for granted might be surprising, confronting or bizarre to someone who isn't regularly exposed to it. This is a topic I feel very strongly about, and I won't digress into my own views here - I think I've done that enough. Suffice it to say, while I found this book flawed and frustrating at times, it's very well written and I'm glad I read it. It made me think.
November 18, 2018
Mandatory reading for anyone in Melbourne who thinks AFL is ‘just a game’.
Footy has a massive impact on our culture, especially the way men relate to one another, and where females fall into this. Night Games delves into this culture and makes the reader really stop and think about the attitudes footy culture perpetuates. It was frightening to read how quickly the wheels of power & influence turned to shield the Collingwood players involved from any meaningful scrutiny.
For this reader it confirms that for all I love footy, as a female I’ll always be an outsider.
PS - also enjoyed the cameo by Alan Jones making a prick of himself. #classicalan
Footy has a massive impact on our culture, especially the way men relate to one another, and where females fall into this. Night Games delves into this culture and makes the reader really stop and think about the attitudes footy culture perpetuates. It was frightening to read how quickly the wheels of power & influence turned to shield the Collingwood players involved from any meaningful scrutiny.
For this reader it confirms that for all I love footy, as a female I’ll always be an outsider.
PS - also enjoyed the cameo by Alan Jones making a prick of himself. #classicalan
July 20, 2019
I can see how Krien is heavily influenced by Helen Garner, but her writing just isn’t in the same standard as Garner.
There is a lot of bias in her sympathies that I think clouds her view of the facts, and frankly I think she’s biased herself the wrong way. She touches on this as an issue in her writing, but an acknowledgment isn’t enough for me. Not in this case. The ending is also too inconclusive for me.
I would recommend reading still, it’s very well researched. But her writing and her interpretation of both the case and the additional research left me disappointed.
There is a lot of bias in her sympathies that I think clouds her view of the facts, and frankly I think she’s biased herself the wrong way. She touches on this as an issue in her writing, but an acknowledgment isn’t enough for me. Not in this case. The ending is also too inconclusive for me.
I would recommend reading still, it’s very well researched. But her writing and her interpretation of both the case and the additional research left me disappointed.
September 9, 2020
Reminded me of Garner’s courtroom narrative.
December 6, 2021
What a dog shit few years that was
September 6, 2018
An incredibly hard book to rate, as I was uncomfortable the entire time I was reading. I must’ve looked like a Melbourne Show clown, I was shaking my head so much. As an AFL fan and a feminist this couldn’t have been more relevant to my interests, but the issues are so complicated and overwhelming it is impossible for any writer to create any sense of satisfaction for the reader. Worth reading, for sure.
February 3, 2014
Another title for this book could be: Blurred Lines. While the theme is potentially a concern across all professional team sports (and beyond), unfortunately it appears the AFL provides enough meaty examples to earn a book of its own. I felt compelled to read this book, primarily as a female Melbournian who has enjoyed watching good (as opposed to any) football matches over the years, mixed with interest that extended from my younger days when AFL footballers might happen be at the same social party.
Focussing primarily on one court case, Anna Krien clearly endeavours to provide a balanced perspective, weaving snippets of related behaviours and spin-off incidents throughout the narrative, quickly establishing the prevailing, entrenched climate. What is revealed between the (book)covers left me feeling nauseous and despairing at our national sport; its participants, its organisers and its fans. It was alarming to realise that there were potentially only a few blurry steps between having a good time at a party, to becoming an object that was used and discarded, with haunting repercussions. Then click go the wheels of the multi-million dollar AFL industry, to spin a web of protection around their chosen ones, the inner sanctum.
It is mind-numbing to think about how society encourages hero-worshipping from both adult and juvenile males and females for athletes whose minds are not necessarily as maturely developed as their bodies. Some of these athletes never mature, yet the hero-worship continues even beyond their sporting careers, sometimes allowing them media careers that perpetuate and nurture their chauvinistic attitudes, in the name of good sport!
One can't help but despair for parents to instil in their children (footballers and fans alike) some sense of moral compass that gives them the presence of mind to evaluate what is appropriate behaviour, as opposed to engaging in emotionally stunted peer-group behaviours just because they can. It appears our young women are getting into trouble through too much alcohol, which leads to physical isolation as circumstances steer them away from their social group. The consequences, dealt out by professional football players appear repetitive, calculating, and in their opinion, justified.
So far, from the AFL's perspective, steps are underway to help players instil a belief of mutual courtesy and respect for the opposite sex. However the examples provided appeared feeble and superficial. It is very disturbing to realise, this behaviour appears to be surreptitiously entrenched, parents struggle with being objective, fans and even police are unable to separate individuals' appalling behaviour from their on-field prowess. Those directly involved even have trouble distinguishing what they have done wrong, where they have crossed the line...
This book captures the problem. It does not suggest or present solutions. Bring on the whistle blowers, I say!
Focussing primarily on one court case, Anna Krien clearly endeavours to provide a balanced perspective, weaving snippets of related behaviours and spin-off incidents throughout the narrative, quickly establishing the prevailing, entrenched climate. What is revealed between the (book)covers left me feeling nauseous and despairing at our national sport; its participants, its organisers and its fans. It was alarming to realise that there were potentially only a few blurry steps between having a good time at a party, to becoming an object that was used and discarded, with haunting repercussions. Then click go the wheels of the multi-million dollar AFL industry, to spin a web of protection around their chosen ones, the inner sanctum.
It is mind-numbing to think about how society encourages hero-worshipping from both adult and juvenile males and females for athletes whose minds are not necessarily as maturely developed as their bodies. Some of these athletes never mature, yet the hero-worship continues even beyond their sporting careers, sometimes allowing them media careers that perpetuate and nurture their chauvinistic attitudes, in the name of good sport!
One can't help but despair for parents to instil in their children (footballers and fans alike) some sense of moral compass that gives them the presence of mind to evaluate what is appropriate behaviour, as opposed to engaging in emotionally stunted peer-group behaviours just because they can. It appears our young women are getting into trouble through too much alcohol, which leads to physical isolation as circumstances steer them away from their social group. The consequences, dealt out by professional football players appear repetitive, calculating, and in their opinion, justified.
So far, from the AFL's perspective, steps are underway to help players instil a belief of mutual courtesy and respect for the opposite sex. However the examples provided appeared feeble and superficial. It is very disturbing to realise, this behaviour appears to be surreptitiously entrenched, parents struggle with being objective, fans and even police are unable to separate individuals' appalling behaviour from their on-field prowess. Those directly involved even have trouble distinguishing what they have done wrong, where they have crossed the line...
This book captures the problem. It does not suggest or present solutions. Bring on the whistle blowers, I say!
May 3, 2017
A riveting blend of courtroom drama and narrative journalism, 'Night Games' follows the rape trial of an Australian Rules footballer while examining the issues of sex, consent and power that surround football culture. Anna Krien is a compelling narrator as she wrestles with becoming close to the man accused of rape, while wondering about what really happened to the young woman, who she never meets.
Near the end of the book, she writes, "I wish I'd chosen to follow an 'easier' rape trial – one with an obvious villain, where a female was clearly intoxicated beyond consent, where I could make observations that don't stink of the bad old days." But Krien's doubt, questioning and scepticism form the basis of the book's drive. It is a singular piece of work, unlike anything I've read before. "A rape is often like no other crime, especially murder," Krien notes. "There is no body left at the scene. A sexual assault often involves a 'he said, she said' scenario, while the forensic aftermath of a rape can just as easily be passed off as the aftermath of consensual sex."
Her steady eye on the night in question and the cultural factors that surround it become more troubling as the book goes on. By turning the matter over and over in her mind, and on the page, Krien settles on some stark and memorable observations, such as these incisive sentences that appears midway through, and give the book its name: "People talk about sex and power as if power is a seesaw, divvied up between two people," writes Krien. "But in night games, where you come up against the power of a group, your sense of self dislocates. Power here can come in the form of a magnetism where no obvious violence, force or even threats are necessary. You just end up moving accordingly. Obediently." The book is highly recommended, and deserving of its numerous awards since publication in 2013.
Near the end of the book, she writes, "I wish I'd chosen to follow an 'easier' rape trial – one with an obvious villain, where a female was clearly intoxicated beyond consent, where I could make observations that don't stink of the bad old days." But Krien's doubt, questioning and scepticism form the basis of the book's drive. It is a singular piece of work, unlike anything I've read before. "A rape is often like no other crime, especially murder," Krien notes. "There is no body left at the scene. A sexual assault often involves a 'he said, she said' scenario, while the forensic aftermath of a rape can just as easily be passed off as the aftermath of consensual sex."
Her steady eye on the night in question and the cultural factors that surround it become more troubling as the book goes on. By turning the matter over and over in her mind, and on the page, Krien settles on some stark and memorable observations, such as these incisive sentences that appears midway through, and give the book its name: "People talk about sex and power as if power is a seesaw, divvied up between two people," writes Krien. "But in night games, where you come up against the power of a group, your sense of self dislocates. Power here can come in the form of a magnetism where no obvious violence, force or even threats are necessary. You just end up moving accordingly. Obediently." The book is highly recommended, and deserving of its numerous awards since publication in 2013.
June 7, 2014
This was gripping. Gripping in an horrific, shocking way, not an enjoyable one. This is a text every young person, male and female, should read simply because it details the horrors wreaked on both genders as a result of a lack of respect and tolerance with regards to sex, relationships, friendships and women. Krien goes to great lengths to try and balance her arguments and generally details her sources with regards to the incidents and events that she reports on. Astonishingly so many famous, and infamous names in both codes, were prepared to be named as sources and largely defend the actions, or in actions more significantly, of these men, clubs and officials. I was sickened to think that what I read/hear about these incidents in the media appears not to be inflated trash journalism but indeed the norm and generally accepted course of behaviour in these codes. And here I was thinking 'it can't really be that bad can it?' Nope it's worse! Largely she outlines both sides of the argument where possible when investigating the 'night games' of these young footballers. A blaring omission of course is the absence of Sarah's story; however Krien details her attempts to at least give her a voice. It is a gap though I didn't quite get over. A strength is the author's ability to so convincingly detail 'the grey' of these incidents. For both young men and women. In no way does she attempt to excuse behaviour but for me really reiterated the life long, psychological damaging effects of these sex games. Fascinating as well is the exploration of power, and most importantly perceived power balances and imbalances, between the genders. Shocking is grown men's views on this, 'there's no power imbalance these girls willing choose to engage'. What the? The strength of this culture to find one voice is frightening. Krien raises a lot of questions without necessarily exploring the answers; and whilst I can see that this may be seen as a criticism it wasn't for me. I see this text as a beginning voice. Surely this opens the dialogue. It raises the issues. It doesn't attempt to answer them. I think every upper school student should read it. Krien details the basic failings of society to instill respect, tolerance and the obsession with the culture of celebrity that has infested our society. How can anyone not be sickened by the point to which we have 'evolved'? Surely opening this dialogue and attempting to enable some level of self reflection may kick start the beginnings of change, surely? Or am I just a naive fool?
March 12, 2016
Devoured this book. Well put together thoughts on such a difficult subject, or range of subjects. How Anna Krien kept her discussion so succinct fascinated me. She had many and varied examples yet reined them in and distilled them to the bare bones. She touched on minorities, feminism, misogyny, groupthink, fall guys, expendable resources...yet the touch was deft. She never got bogged down in any discussion. This was so much more that sex, power and sport, it was a real look at society in general. A fabulous read.
May 13, 2013
A thorough analysis of sexual assault in Australian football. I found the narrative hard to follow at times, but the depth of the research was fascinating and expertly executed.
November 9, 2015
A must read for any Australian or anyone interested in Australian culture or society. Emotionally pensive, brutal and honest. This is the kind of book that could change lives and encourages readers to take a long hard look at themselves, those around them and institutions which are regarded by many as mainstays of Australian culture.
Krien is a magnificent writer. Will go back and read her first book, Into the Woods and then patiently wait for whatever she publishes next.
Krien is a magnificent writer. Will go back and read her first book, Into the Woods and then patiently wait for whatever she publishes next.
July 27, 2015
Gripping and powerful, this is one of the most thoughtful and thought-provoking books on the plague of rape culture in modern sports. I couldn't put it down but it definitely aggravated a few members in my book club, especially Melbourne-bred AFL fans who are loathe to take any of their boys in uniform to account. This is an important book which reveals uncomfortable realities in Australian culture.
May 24, 2013
Interesting topic but this book was a little like riding an exercise bike. It gave me something to do but didn't go anywhere.
January 1, 2014
I would have preferred a more academic approach, however, I think it is important that Krien has broached this topic in an accessible way.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 165 reviews