GEORGIE PARKER: Carlton are easy scapegoats for Elijah Hollands’ mental health issues in Collingwood game

The Elijah Hollands news over the past few days has been deeply unsettling. The discourse around it - especially in the same week the brother of an Adelaide captain Jordan Dawson took his life - has felt, at times, incredibly tone deaf, as though mental health, alcohol, and drug issues exist in separate worlds. They don’t.

According to the Western Australian Mental Health Commission, an estimated 30 to 50 per cent of people with an alcohol and/or drug issue also have a mental health condition. Which comes first isn’t the point. The overlap is real, and the exact source of Elijah’s issues on Thursday night doesn’t really matter.

I have enormous sympathy for Elijah.

I also think it’s been very easy to turn on Carlton. “Why was he playing? How could they let this happen?”.

The pitchforks have come out quickly for a club people already love to criticise. They’re big, they’re powerful, they’re struggling, and they clearly failed Hollands.

But I don’t think it’s that simple.

Yes, Elijah had publicly acknowledged struggles prior to this, and with hindsight, you could argue there should have been greater awareness. But if you genuinely believe someone is okay, you don’t go looking for signs that they’re not.

These situations are rarely as clear-cut in the moment as they appear in hindsight.

Looking back with the knowledge that something was wrong makes everything seem obvious. In real time - on game day, in a high-pressure environment - it’s not nearly as clear.

Every team is different, but it’s not unusual for players to be left to their own devices, or for coaches to focus their attention on players who ask for it.

Some like to muck around, some like to stay by themselves and listen to music, some meditate, and some like one-on-one time to get some extra touches for them to prepare.

With limited staff and a full squad to manage all the different game day preparations ahead of them, it’s easy for things to slip through the cracks, particularly pre-game even if it appeared clear to fans ion the stands Hollands was not right

He didn’t register a touch in the first half which is uncommon, but not unheard of for a forward. In previous seasons, he probably would have been subbed out, but with the extended bench, rotations are largely pre-planned to manage the team and particularly the stars of the club. Removing one is clearly possible but isn’t as easy as it seems.

It was also a tight game - Carlton lost by just five points. Michael Voss’s focus is on the entire, very large, ground, searching for a way to win against a major rival, in what was another must-win game to keep his job. His attention isn’t fixed on one player’s erratic movement patterns - especially when much of what we’re reacting to now comes from brief, selective clips on social media.

None of this removes responsibility. Player welfare should always be paramount, and it is something clubs take seriously. But it does offer context. These situations are rarely as clear-cut in the moment as they appear in hindsight.

As spectators, we view this with the benefit of distance, more information, and, often, a strong instinctual urge to assign blame.

I’ve seen how easy it is to miss.

A former teammate of mine - who has since spoken publicly about her struggles with alcohol - was, and still is, my best friend. At the time, I didn’t realise what she was going through. I lived with her. I travelled with her. I drove with her to training every single day, and I missed it.

It’s something I still find difficult to sit with. I thought I knew her completely, yet she was struggling in ways I couldn’t see.

Looking back, the signs were there. Small things that didn’t quite add up at the time now fit together clearly in a jigsaw puzzle of the Black Dog that clearly followed her around.

But in the middle of playing, training, and dealing with my own pressures and anxieties, I didn’t recognise them. I was too selfish in my own struggles to see. So too were the staff around us.

Maybe that’s why I have some sympathy for the club. Because I missed it too - both in a teammate and in someone I so deeply love. “Could I have stopped this?” is a question I ask myself so often.

I wish I had acted differently and saw the signs instead of brushing it aside. I can’t change that. And neither can Voss, his coaching group, Elijah’s teammates, or the club.

What they can do, and what we all can do, is respond with care.

Mental ill-health is complex, often hidden, and can be devastating in ways that aren’t immediately visible.

Missing the signs doesn’t make someone a villain. But we have a responsibility to do better, to check in, to take concerns seriously, and to lead with empathy rather than judgment.