FOR 42 weeks a year, the AFL season means the same thing to everyone. A tough pre-season and a 22-match home-and-away campaign. Then, for eight teams, it's about finals.

But from the start of September, the AFL means a lot of different things to different people. There are football traditions such as "Mad Monday" and the players' end-of-season trips. And for some, the stark, cold reality of delisting or retiring.

No matter who you are or how good you were, eventually, your time is up. There will always be somebody ready to take your place. Even if you're as good as James Hird or Anthony Koutoufides, Glenn Archer or Mark Ricciuto.

You move on. You might not be quickly forgotten, but you're very quickly replaced by a young fella setting out just as you did all those years ago. And that's the way it should be — the club will always be bigger than the individual.

But it's not a pleasant time and it's further evidence of why professional sport is unique. Because job security is minimal. And the dream of an AFL career can be taken from a young player in a flash.

What do the names Chad Gibson, Alan Obst, Austin Lucy, Benet Copping, Dean Limbach, Matthew Davis, Andrew Ericksen, Earl Shaw, Josh Willoughby, Brad Smith and Jesse Wells mean to you? Probably very little. But these 11 players, all delisted about this time last year, had 23 years between them in the AFL system for not one game.

Queenslander Lucy, an All-Australian under-18 choice in 2005 taken by Essendon in the national draft that year, didn't even get the obligatory two years guaranteed a draftee. He was cut loose and paid out after 12 months.

Smith, a West Australian junior drafted to West Coast in 2004, had two knee reconstructions in his two years on the Eagles list before his time was up. He's kicked 100 goals for Subiaco in the WAFL this year, but do you think that compensates for lost opportunity? This week, Queenslander Michael West was released by the Western Bulldogs. He'd had one year on the senior list and one year as a rookie — and two knee reconstructions.

How about these names — Brad Hall, Tristan Cartledge, Nick Smith, Tom Roach, Matthew Ferguson and Brad Murphy? They spent a combined 22 years in the AFL for 35 games before being delisted at the end of 2006. That's not to say that their clubs didn't work tirelessly to give them every opportunity to maximise their potential. I'm sure they did.

It's just the system. The network and resources in which these young men live while in the AFL are enormous. There is a lot of money spent on them, from their football development to welfare and education.

But the stark reality is that the average time a player spends in the system is 3.5 years. It's not exactly enough to set them up for life and as we enter a new age of football professionalism, it means that at 21, most who come out of the system would not have completed a full day's work by normal standards.

When Robert Harvey finally gives it away, we'll have nobody left who has maintained any sort of regular full-time employment while playing. And if they haven't studied, they don't have qualifications, either.

It's no poor AFL footballer's syndrome. The opportunities presented to them are amazing. The fond memories and good mates, together with the chance to compete on the big stage, is plenty to take away with you. It just means that how we handle the delisting process is critical.

The pleasing thing is that the AFL and the AFL Players Association now have an excellent exit strategy, not just for young players but retiring players who have had 10 and 15 years in the system. It is first-class, much to the credit of all concerned.

The retirement fund provides a financial buffer in the interim phase that allows players to sort out what they want to do next. I'm sure for many it's like stepping straight out of school again, unsure what the future holds or even where it's going to be. It provides further study and education, and emotional support for those who struggle with it all.

There's medical assistance for those who finally want to rectify that crook shoulder they've carried for years, or the finger that's been broken more times than they can remember.

There's no easy way to do it, and the reality is emotion doesn't come into it. It's a business.

Just ask ex-Lions and Bulldogs rookie Marty Pask. He was cut loose last week on the same day he became engaged to swimming superstar Leisel Jones. A week ago, he was a member of the AFL club. He'd relocated from Brisbane to Melbourne to keep his football dream alive after being released by the Lions 12 months ago. Now he must move on.

For the players, "Mad Monday" is not only the signal that it is the end of a season, it is also a farewell of sorts — the group of 2007 will never be back together again. So it's almost a going away party for some who will move on to other clubs or move into a different field. Some will be commiserating while others are celebrating and ready to let their hair down.

I have some fond memories of "Mad Monday". Football environments are a place where every action is scrutinised and evaluated, so it's good to meet outside those parameters for an afternoon and have a good laugh in a less disciplined environment.

But when the fun ends, it's back to business. For some, it's back to the business of life at an AFL club and the whole thing starts over again. For others, it's back to the business of life after football.