FOOTBALL makes grown human beings do some very stupid things. Crazy dancing, backflips, throwing things at opposing fans, name calling and crashing into coaches are just some of the antics players got up to this weekend.

And what’s wrong with that? If fans can party in the stands why can’t players also let it rip on the pitch? How can we expect them to turn off the adrenaline when they are fired up to compete and we’re cheering them on?

One of the reasons football is universally popular is that it gives normally sane adults an excuse to act like complete idiots. Just a couple of weeks ago, for example, I saw a lone woman at Sydney Football Stadium stand up and shout at The Cove when her team equalised, much to the embarrassment of her family. OK, it was me.

So when Hutch kicked the ball into the Squadron on Friday I have to say part of me understood where he was coming from. Although Hutch celebrates his 30th birthday today, his madcap antics are legendary. This is the guy who welcomed Bozza to the team by secretly cutting a hole in his towel.

Being a fellow Capricorn, I can confirm that we’re known for extreme behaviour and intense emotions. OK, so we’re mad as cut snakes but we’re also very loyal: Hutch is a mainstay of the Mariners, a tough competitor who has been the butt of Jets fans abuse for a long time. Perhaps we can forgive him his little bit of “fun”.

Sadly the ensuing biffo, though not directly his fault, was a rather unpleasant ending to a weekend of triumph for all three Mariners teams. My deranged Bollywood dancing celebration went limp as a day-old pappadum when I saw the red card waved at Dmac. I had nightmare Grand Final flashbacks as I realised we’d have to face Glory on New Year's Eve without two of our strikers.

Lawrie suggested it was a lack of discipline that led to the punch-up, but for once I have to disagree. I think the essential problem here is the lack of A-League mascots.

In many overseas sporting competitions, particularly the NBL and the English football leagues, the role of on-field punch-up is beautifully played out by the opposing teams’ mascots. This is a brilliant way to allow fans to enjoy on-field stupidity between teams without involving the players themselves.

What could possibly be more exciting than to watch two unemployed actors in ridiculous furry suits ripping each other’s heads off ? The legendary brawl between Wolvie of Wolverhampton and Bristol City’s Cat comes to mind.

Villa’s Hercules the Lion caused even more controversy when he broke the Mascots’ Code of Conduct by making improper suggestions to Miss Aston Villa. Of course he lost his job – but not before providing some rather exotic half-time entertainment.

In the UK there is even a Mascots Grand National - we could have a Mascots Melbourne Cup, promoted by Kevin Muscat. Forget 2018, this could be the jewel in Australian football’s crown, the touch of class that will draw the A-list to the A-League.

But we all must play our part to make the dream a reality. If your club lacks a mascot, start lobbying now. Strangely, our partner club Sheffield United’s Captain Blade (a bloated pirate) seems to be tailor-made for the Mariners. Maybe we could offer him a transfer deal with some of the money we got for Mile?

And speaking of Mile, I cried on Christmas morning when I heard he was leaving. He’s been a player of sheer class and unique quality : a strong midfielder who rarely lost a challenge and could distribute as well as he could score.

To watch him rise from the state league to the A-League and Socceroos in such a short space of time has been a privilege. While I’m sure Lawrie has someone up his sleeve, Mile will be sorely missed.

I wish him all the best in Turkey and beyond. Somewhere in Ankara, young boys will soon be hassling their mums to buy Jedi cloaks...

The lamest mascot of all time is English non-league side AFC Telford’s Benny the Box – yes, you guessed it, a man with a cardboard box on his head.