BARRY Hall told the football world in May that he wanted to be remembered not as a thug but as a footballer.

Typically, he was wearing his bruised heart on his well-worn sleeve but surely he could not have known that he might end his playing days being known instead as a damaged head case.

That was the picture painted by Swans' coach Paul Roos on Monday and, despite the club throwing out lifelines of love towards its troubled forward all day yesterday, the stark scenario in which Sydney had placed Hall remained just that.

While the club went to lengths to remain vague about the nature of the 31-year-old's issues, which the player himself has alluded to in the past, the obvious angle was the player's on-again-off-again relationship with his one-time Broadford sweetheart, Kylie Stray.

The partnership was turbulent back when Hall was a Saint and has continued to be so. Inevitably, there have been third parties along the way, along with financial threats involved with the many break-ups.

When Stray moved to Sydney to live with Hall, there was no pre-nuptial agreement.

Hall's lifestyle tended towards the shambolic when he played for St Kilda but appeared to become more organised when he moved to Sydney and, towards the end of his first four-year $2 million contract, the player split with his management group and decided to go it alone.

But the personal problems continued to haunt even his happiest days, including the 2005 premiership victory. Still he kept his demons in check and, for two years, became a co-captain of the club. Even after the attack upon Brent Staker, the leadership group insisted he remain among them.

Which makes the decision to stand him down indefinitely — and not rule out ejection from the team as potentially season-ending in a year with finals on the agenda — all the more staggering. To order him not to play on the orders of a club psychologist and describe him as a danger on the field to himself, his teammates and — inevitably — his opponents is also unprecedented.

According to the Swans, it is an indication of the strength of their team rules but surely the decision shows, too, just how filthy the coaches and their superiors have become with Hall, particularly over his behaviour during the first half against Collingwood at the weekend.

AFL boss Andrew Demetriou applauded the club's handling of the Hall, but AFL players' chief Brendon Gale was less complimentary and described it as "most un-Sydney-like".

There was a genuine feeling of astonishment and some disapproval at Hall's treatment at yesterday's annual player agents' summit hosted by the AFL Players Association.

Swans chairman Richard Colless said the club had to keep a balance between casting a player adrift and sticking to the Bloods' code of conduct. And yet Hall has been cast out for an indefinite period. His lifelines, such as player welfare boss Phil Mullins and Andrew Ireland, and his coaches must seem less tangible now.

Hall has gone from being an over-protected species to an outcast apparently overnight.

We can only wonder whether his long-time psychologist Grant Brecht did not want to be held responsible for what his patient might do on the football field. And whether there is more to this.

Clearly this was a dreadful situation for Sydney. But you have to wonder how the club is coping internally with the fall-out of Hall's psychological "outing".