IT IS hardly surprising the Swans have disappeared from the media radar in the past few weeks.
If Sonny Bill Williams's defection caused some to claim the end is nigh for rugby league, the frenzied reaction provides a timely reminder for the AFL's northern missionaries that the NRL runs the biggest show in town.
The lead-up to the Olympics has also overshadowed anything happening at the SCG and, unless Jude Bolton starts dating Stephanie Rice, the Swans will remain media mushrooms.
Then there is the short-sighted approach of those Swans players who believe their only obligation to promote the game is to get a kick on the weekend. The unofficial media policy is to refuse all interview requests when things are not going your way and, if you are dragged before a microphone, to utter only the most mind-numbing cliches - a strange way to enhance the club's profile in a city chairman Richard Colless regularly describes as "the most competitive football market in the world".
Making it even more difficult for the Swans to make a splash, Barry Hall hasn't tried to thump anyone for weeks.
And then there is the most compelling reason for the apparent indifference surrounding the Swans. While they sit six points clear in fourth spot, notionally well placed to make a serious premiership challenge, the Swans are given little chance of being anything but nuisance value come September. Three significant defeats in four games will do that.
But if the recent form slump can be explained by short-term circumstances, most notably an injury list that provides a reminder of how well the Swans have fared in the medical room in recent years - and the bizarre Hall meltdown - then they are also getting an early glimpse of the future.
The recent barren stretch is a snapshot of how life will - or at least could - be without 31 year-old stars Michael O'Loughlin, Hall and Leo Barry, the brave, versatile defender who has shown signs of wear and tear this season. You might add Brett Kirk to that list. However, at the same age, the co-captain's manic desire for physical contact shows no sign of waning.
Not that the Swans have been caught unawares. They have attacked generational change aggressively this season and, with the inclusions of Kieren Jack, Craig Bird and Jarred Moore, somewhat successfully. But while you can spend a generous football operations budget widening your recruiting network, maximising local knowledge (Jack is from Pennant Hills, Bird from Nelson Bay) and fast-tracking player development, the superstar factor on AFL lists remains crucial. Hall's travails and injuries to O'Loughlin, Barry and now Adam Goodes underline how even the deepest, best coached and most disciplined lists rely heavily on their top six.
In Sydney, you could argue the superstar factor remains doubly important given the exposure the likes of Tony Lockett and Hall have given the club, publicity that generates the recent profits that pay generous player wages. More so given the refusal of the current generation of Swans to fulfil their obligation to promote the game in the media.
A backdoor expression of interest in Carlton full-forward Brendan Fevola made it clear the Swans are willing to use salary cap space created by the imminent departure of some top-liners to lure another big name to the club. But, unlike rugby league, AFL stars are very hard to shift.
Despite a hard draw, the Swans can still get back on track this year, starting with Sunday's match against the Western Bulldogs. Hall is at least fit. Goodes gets a break before the finals. Funny things happen in September.
But, out of the spotlight, the club's decision-makers will have glimpsed the future and been reminded how much is to be done if the Swans are to be headliners in the future.





