(...continued)
Wolfgang in the woods
It was still dark, somewhere between five and six o'clock in the morning on day two, when players in their tepees were woken by the constant rhythm of a drum. One of the facilitators, still dressed in army camouflage, was walking around the campsite beating a drum.
After getting up, the 10 players and two coaches were taken deeper into the woods where, after stretching and a warm-up, they were introduced to Wolfgang.
Dressed in blue overalls with no T-shirt underneath, and tattoos stemming from his neck, Wolfgang was in charge of the "harness" activity.
He explained and demonstrated that a player would harness himself to a contraption that was tied to a tree. In order to get out of the harness, the player would have to crawl on his hands and knees towards a combat knife that Wolfgang had set on the ground, about 10 metres away.
Each player could choose two teammates in the group to sit on chairs and offer moral support. Nine other teammates were instructed to pull the other way.
As the nine others pulled the player away from the knife, facilitators encouraged them to hurl abuse at him. At first, it was relatively harmless; "Come on, mate. You're weak, you'll give up!"
But as the struggle increased, the insults became more personal.
Episodes of childhood trauma, relationships with partners and incidents of domestic abuse were among the subjects referenced as players tried to crawl across the mud.
In some cases, the information was so sensitive that players hadn't even shared it with their partners.
Players are certain sensitive information confided to club staff had been handed on to Woulfe and Leddie before the camp.
"There's no doubt that private and personal information was used without our consent," a player told The Sunday Age.
The club strongly denies this allegation.
'Our bond with the club, with each other, was torn apart'
It's not unusual for AFL clubs and other sporting teams to hold pre-season camps, which are often designed to build physical and emotional resilience through commando-style drills, and strengthen the bonds within a team. Some players thrive in such environments, while others resent being dragged away from young families, and come away injured and exhausted.
Jeff Bond, former chief psychologist at the Australian Institute of Sport, believes sporting organisations continue to be fooled by consultants who promise to deliver a mental edge.
"Using people's personal trauma to drive them is so illogical and dangerous it's not funny," Bond told The Sunday Age.
Bond, who has previously worked for Melbourne and Richmond, is now a psychologist for the Brumbies in Super Rugby.
"They take some of these models out of the military for these camps," he said.
"They are put through highly stressful circumstances to be mission-ready in case they get captured and tortured.
"There's good reason why the military performs resilience-enhancing exercises, because it's to protect life. But this is just sport."
The harness activity was spread across the best part of two days. When a player was finally allowed to reach the knife, he could cut himself out.
The point of the exercise, according to Woulfe and Wolfgang, was for players to free themselves of their deepest fears.
When asked about the camp by The Sunday Age, Woulfe said: "We stand by our work with the Adelaide Football Club at that time, but are no longer involved with the club and don't have anything further to add."
When asked about the purpose of the blindfolds on the bus, the harness and the knife, Woulfe did not respond.
During periods of downtime, players were told not to speak to each other. They were also not allowed to access their phones. Some players had pregnant partners and were granted special permission for a few minutes a day.
The final day was deeply emotional for many players. When they met in the common area, many broke down and cried as they waited for the bus to go home.
"It's not necessarily the specifics of the camp that I think about the most, it's what it did to us. We were a team and a group of players in the peak of our powers that was ready to win a premiership. But our bond with the club, with each other, was torn apart at that camp," a player told The Sunday Age.
Another player said the camp didn't have an impact at the time, but his mind would often revisit it without warning.
"Sometimes, a few of the players would just be sitting around and one would say: 'What the f--- did we just do?' It's difficult to explain. I sort of felt brainwashed."
The camp affected players in different ways. Rory Sloane, now captain, spoke glowingly about it in March 2018.
"I absolutely 100 per cent came back from that camp feeling like a better husband, a better son and a much better teammate than when I was before I left," he said.
Gibbs, the new recruit, admitted it was "cultish" in some quarters but said he had been on "a lot worse camps" at Carlton.
The Sunday Age asked for comments from both club CEO Andrew Fagan and chairman Rob Chapman. Both declined to comment.
In response to a list of questions about the events of the camp, the club said in a statement: "An AFL investigation found the club did not breach any industry rules. However, as we have previously stated, there were elements of the camp that clearly missed the mark and should have been done differently. There has since been considerable changes in personnel, both on and off the field, and the nature of our industry means we must now focus on the current season and beyond."
Pyke declined to comment. Burton said he had "no interest" talking about the camp. Camporeale did not respond.
