COME on everybody, can we just lighten up a little? As much as we love it, AFL football is still just a game, something to be celebrated, enjoyed, and occasionally, laughed at. It certainly shouldn't be the stuff of pompous sermonising.

Last week, it was "veteran-gate", Essendon chairman Ray Horsburgh's public airing of what anyone with half a brain had already concluded about the playing futures of Bomber pair Jason Johnson and Damien Peverill, which were seen as akin to the leaking of Pentagon papers to al-Qaeda.

Do we now have to brace ourselves for a spate of poe-faced tirades about sportsmanship in the wake of "choke-gate", Hawthorn forward Mark Williams' apparent "shameful disrespect for a noble and valiant foe" in his Port Adelaide coach namesake? My stomach certainly hopes not.

Of course, the prospects of a level-headed response to this latest saga won't be helped by Williams' "form" on the post-goal animation front.

Yes, in some more earnest football circles, the Hawk goalkicker's former "disgraceful" imitation of a rifle shot following a goal, and, more recently, that heinous crime of presenting two outstretched forearms, will doubtless be viewed as priors that warrant tough sentencing now.

Sadly, probably the same circles that often lament the perceived homogenisation of our game, and the accompanying loss of character and colour with it. Not for the first time, there will be some hypocrisy going on.

Is it any wonder players are more inclined now to act like robots than dare show any trace of spontaneity or individuality?

Seriously, judging by the way the Hawk was publicly disowned by his coach Alastair Clarkson after his side's great comeback win on Saturday — and the clearly piqued response of the Port coach to an off-the-cuff gesture following a match-sealing goal — you'd have thought Williams had stolen a horde of disabled children's lunch money, besmirched Mother Teresa's reputation, and shot Bambi for good measure.

Williams, the coach, said he "couldn't care less" about the apologetic phone call he was told he was about to receive from Williams, the player, that it "doesn't help us win the game, lose the game".

In the next breath, he observed that the Hawthorn player "hadn't touched the ball all day". Hmmm. Sure it didn't get under your skin just a little, "Choco"?

And why, anyway? The Port Adelaide premiership coach has proved his fondness for psychological games and the odd inflammatory gesture over the years. Some have worked a treat. Some have backfired. Wasn't this one better simply tucked away in the memory banks for use at a later date?

Mind you, it might have been had his opposite number not forced the issue with an extraordinary pre-press conference apology, a humiliating rebuke for his player, and a school teacher-ish demand that he contact the Power coach personally to offer a mea culpa.

I've no problem with Clarkson wanting his team to be humble and gracious in victory. I just don't accept that Williams' gesture was that big an affront to that philosophy.

Nor the calculated "up yours" response to his opposition coach's similar antics after Port's 2004 grand final win as has been portrayed, more a gesture about an entire team that had let slip a victory that had seemed certain.

Whatever, was the soon-to-be infamous choke gesture really worth headlining to the assembled media throng before even a word was uttered about a superb comeback that turned a 38-point deficit into a memorable win?

It seemed a massive overreaction. And the cynic in me suggests it had more to do with getting on the front foot.

Having worked under Williams at Port, Clarkson knows his former mentor will take every little grain of potential advantage for these two teams' next meeting. Coming out and highlighting what might have otherwise passed as little more than a footnote will at least neutralise a little Williams' sense of moral superiority.

Yet even that smacks not a little of an outdated view. This is supposed to be a thoroughly professional age, where games are won and lost on physical preparation and tactics, not the waving of cheesy motivational slogans. So should our response be similarly grown up.

If Williams' gesture means a Port Adelaide player is going to drive him just a little harder into the turf next time he's tackled, that's his cross to bear.

Not the cue for the rest of us to start bemoaning the loss of some mythical sense of football nobility just because someone dared clutch a hand to their throat.