Racism has no place in our game, not in the community, not online
After a narrow Friday night loss at the MCG, Hawthorn forward Mabior Chol chose not to absorb racial abuse in silence — he made it visible. By posting the messages publicly on Instagram, Chol transformed a private wound into a public reckoning, compelling the AFL and Hawthorn to respond with unambiguous condemnation. It was not the first time he had faced this, and that repetition speaks to something deeper than any single act of cruelty: a pattern the sport has named but not yet healed.
- Chol received racial and profane messages following the Hawks' six-point loss to the Western Bulldogs, abuse that was unambiguous in its hatred.
- Rather than absorb the attack quietly, he posted the screenshots on Instagram — forcing the abuse into public view and demanding accountability.
- AFL CEO Andrew Dillon responded within hours, stating plainly that perpetrators are unwelcome in the game or the broader community.
- Hawthorn's leadership echoed the condemnation and pledged to work through the AFL's integrity unit to pursue the matter.
- The incident carries a heavier weight because it is not isolated — Chol faced the same targeting in 2022, revealing a recurring failure the sport has not resolved.
After the Hawks fell to the Western Bulldogs by six points on Friday night, Mabior Chol came home to something uglier than a loss. The racial abuse that arrived in his messages was explicit and dehumanising. Rather than stay silent, he posted the screenshots on Instagram with a simple caption — not a plea for sympathy, but an act of naming.
The AFL and Hawthorn responded quickly and without equivocation. CEO Andrew Dillon called the messages vile and made clear that anyone who considers such behaviour acceptable has no place in the game. Hawthorn's chief executive Ash Klein commended Chol's courage and pledged the club's full support, with both organisations committing to work through the AFL's integrity unit.
What gave the moment its particular weight was the absence of hedging. There was no suggestion that online abuse is an unavoidable feature of modern sport, no quiet expectation that players simply endure it. The response was categorical.
And yet the moment carried an unspoken burden. This was not Chol's first time — he had been targeted with racial abuse on social media in 2022 as well. Four years on, the same thing was happening again. His decision to speak publicly forced the league to respond with seriousness, but it also meant that he — the one who had been attacked — became the story. That he had to make that choice at all was its own kind of injustice.
Mabior Chol did what few athletes do when they are attacked online: he showed the world exactly what was said to him. On Instagram, the Hawthorn forward posted screenshots of the messages that arrived after Friday night's loss to the Western Bulldogs at the MCG—a six-point defeat that stung enough without the filth that followed. The abuse was racial, profane, and unambiguous. Chol captioned the post simply: "You can talk s*** all you want but don't be like this guy." He was not asking for sympathy. He was naming the thing.
Within hours, the AFL and Hawthorn had both issued statements of support. Andrew Dillon, the league's chief executive, was direct: the messages were vile, racism has no place in the game or the community, and anyone who thinks otherwise is not welcome. "To be clear," Dillon said, "if you think this behaviour is acceptable, then you are not welcome in our game." Hawthorn's chief executive Ash Klein echoed the message, calling the abuse "simply not acceptable" and commending Chol for the courage it took to call it out publicly. Both organizations promised immediate support and said they would work together through the AFL's integrity unit to address the matter.
What made Chol's decision to share the messages significant was not just that he refused to absorb the abuse in silence. It was that he forced the sport and its leadership to respond on the record, in real time, with clarity. There was no hedging, no suggestion that online abuse is just part of modern life, no implication that players should develop thicker skin. The league's response was categorical: this is not acceptable, this is not normal, this is not something we tolerate.
But there was also a weight to the moment that went unspoken in the statements. This was not Chol's first time. In 2022, when he was playing for the Gold Coast Suns, he had been targeted with racial abuse on social media. Four years later, the same thing was happening again. The pattern suggested something systemic—not a one-off incident, not an isolated bad actor, but a recurring problem that the sport had not yet solved.
Chol's willingness to expose the messages publicly was an act of resistance, but it was also a burden he should never have had to carry. He had played a game on Friday night, lost by six points, and then spent the evening reading messages that dehumanized him. The fact that he then had to decide whether to stay silent or speak up, knowing that speaking up would make him the story rather than the loss, was itself a kind of injustice. Yet he chose to speak. And in doing so, he gave the league and the club no choice but to respond with the seriousness the moment demanded.
Notable Quotes
Racism has no place anywhere, anytime — not in our game, not in the community and not online. Players, or anyone, should never be subjected to this sort of abuse.— AFL CEO Andrew Dillon
We commend Mabior's courage in calling this out and we stand with him.— Hawthorn CEO Ash Klein
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Chol decide to post the messages publicly instead of reporting them privately to the club or the league?
Because silence lets it disappear. When you report something privately, it stays private. The abuse continues somewhere else, directed at someone else, and nothing changes. By posting it, he made it impossible for anyone to look away or pretend it wasn't happening.
The statements from the AFL and Hawthorn were strong. Does that actually change anything for players who are being targeted?
It changes the official record. It says clearly that this is not acceptable, that the league means it, that there are consequences. But statements alone don't stop the next person from sending the next message. What matters is whether the league actually investigates, whether they find the people responsible, whether there are real consequences.
This is the second time Chol has been targeted like this. What does that pattern tell us?
It tells us that the problem is not solved. It tells us that being a visible Black player in a high-profile sport makes you a target, and that the online spaces where fans gather are not safe. It tells us that Chol has had to endure this twice, and there's no guarantee it won't happen again.
What does it mean that he called out the behavior but didn't name the person who sent the messages?
It means he was focused on the behavior itself, not revenge. He was saying: this is what racism looks like, this is what it sounds like, and it's not acceptable. He wasn't trying to destroy one person; he was trying to change the culture.
Do you think the league's response will deter people from sending similar messages in the future?
Some people, maybe. The ones who care what the league thinks. But the people sending these messages often aren't thinking about consequences. They're thinking about the moment, the anger, the anonymity. Real deterrence requires investigation, identification, and actual consequences. Statements help, but they're not enough on their own.