The FifthQtr’s Healthmate platform assists the foundation to provide immediate and confidential support to former players and their families, across mental health, wellbeing, career transition and finance. Driven by Artificial Intelligence (AI), Healthmate’s accessibility and continuous support is where its value lies. However, this comes with considerable privacy and security considerations given the sensitive and personal conversations being discussed.

Since its release, FifthQtr had been seeking a partnership to assist in the development of a formal AI Governance Framework, so that the appropriate operational and management policies are in place to underpin the working of the Healthmate platform. The Swinburne University of Technology offered to support FifthQtr in this endeavour, through a mutually beneficial collaboration.

Students from the Masters of Business Information Systems program designed and developed an AI governance policy, built on best-practice research and key addressable questions around compliance needs, appropriate AI use, its limitations and the need for guardrails. This framework provides FifthQtr with clear operational requirements in line with applicable legislation, standards around AI, duty-of-care obligations to users and when human intervention is required.

The partnership between FifthQtr and the master’s students has been a great success, with the collaboration creating an opportunity for both groups to gain meaningful value from working alongside one another. FifthQtr has cherished the opportunity to support the education and provide real-world experience to the master’s students. FifthQtr recognises and appreciates the excellent piece of work the students have prepared, one that will be adopted and implemented as a formal AI Governance Framework, once approved.

The FifthQtr Foundation is truly appreciative of the contribution made by students from Swinburne University and would welcome continued collaboration on future projects.

‘My son did not die for nothing.’  

At the FIFTHQTR Foundation we are lucky to meet a number of truly inspiring people, none more so than Wendy Smith, a mum from Adelaide who balances her corporate career with her role as an ambassador for the Concussion Legacy Foundation Australia. She also runs Happy Lids, a charitable online business created in honour of her late son, Antonio Lo Iacono. 

Wendy knows more about concussions and their devastating consequences in contact sport than any parent should. Her son Antonio, full of life, charm, and courage, suffered a catastrophic head injury in an A-grade community football game in Round One of 2023. After collapsing onfield, Antonio stopped breathing, was airlifted to the Royal Adelaide Hospital in a critical condition and was later declared brain dead. He was just 20 years old when his bright future was stolen. 

Wendy explains that Antonio began playing football at four years old, fearless and passionate, excelling in club and state footy, right throughout his life. But in his mid-teens, he experienced a few concussions, which took their toll, one of them so serious it led to benign intercranial hypertension (pressure on the brain). As a result, Antonio started having severe side-effects – headaches for weeks after, vomiting, blurred vision. On one occasion, he even spoke of seeing people on a jetty when there were no people there at all. At this time, he took a break from football for a few years, a period during which he would undergo 11 lumbar punctures in a desperate effort to relieve the pressure on his young brain. 

In time, Antonio’s neurosurgeon cleared him to return to football, and in 2022 Antonio took up playing for Waikerie Football Club. It was not long before he suffered another concussion in the first quarter of the game. Wendy was not at the match that day but was horrified to learn he had returned to the field in the third quarter. Witnesses claimed he had not had a concussion because ‘he wasn’t knocked out’. Wendy remains deeply frustrated by the widespread misconception that a concussion only occurs when someone is ‘knocked out’. ‘The truth is simple and critical – concussion is a brain injury,’ she explains. 

The following year, Antonio moved back to Adelaide and joined Birdwood Football Club as a paid player. Leading up to the season opener, he received a couple of concussions in trial games. He had told a few mates about this but had not mentioned anything to his mum or his coach.  

Wendy travelled to watch the game on that ill-fated day on 22 April 2023, a match she will always have trouble recounting. It was a twilight game, round one, late afternoon. She was a newcomer to the club and positioned herself between the goals for a pleasant view. Just before the end of the first quarter, she remembered what she described as ‘a massive pile-on’ and stood up and said, ‘Get off him, you thugs.’ She recalls: ‘The game was aggressive, and I did not know anyone.’  

Antonio was struck under the chin in what Wendy described as ‘a malicious high hit, after he disposed of the football’. The umpire paid a free kick further downfield because of it but Antonio was not taken off the ground and remained on field.  

The game played on and then in the third quarter she saw Antonio going for the ball. She looked up and there was another massive huddle. She saw one player lying on the oval. She thought, ‘Gosh, that kid looks like he’s in trouble – he’s not moving – why is no one attending to him?’ Then she realised it was her son, recognising his bright-blue footy boots. 

Breaking every rule, she ran onto the field. At first, she thought he had broken his arm but soon realised Antonio was not breathing. With help, she turned him over and the trainer called for a stretcher, but Wendy shouted louder: ‘GET THE DEFIBIRILLATOR, CALL AN AMBULANCE!’ 

While all this was happening, unfathomably, the game played on.  

Antonio had four people trying to resuscitate him and eventually three ambulances arrived. To Wendy, it felt like they took forever, as the game was being played in the Adelaide Hills, 45 minutes from the city. 

Wendy recalls those horrifying moments onfield: ‘All the while they were trying to resuscitate him, I just kept thinking, he is going to be okay. When the helicopter was called in and they hooked him up to the machines, I did not realise it was life support. I thought they were just monitors. I was told there was no room for me in the helicopter, so the coach drove me to the hospital. When we arrived, they placed us in a private room. I remember thinking “That’s nice”, not realising it was because my son was being kept alive only by the life support machines. I thought he was just deeply unconscious. There were no operations, no interventions – just silence and waiting. I was getting hundreds of messages, saying “everything will be all right” but I felt things were not okay. Through the night it became painfully clear he was not in good shape and by the next day, after countless tests and doctors, Antonio was officially declared brain dead.’  

This is a story that is incredibly hard to hear, unimaginable to live through.  

‘I have PTSD from it now,’ Wendy says. ‘Anxiety, too. I drink too much – I still have grief therapy and see a psychologist for it.’  

The only small consolation that Wendy can take away from this devastating loss is the fact that Antonio was an organ donor, saving six lives, and the youngest Aussie Rules footballer to donate his brain to the Australian Sports Brain Bank. Although the family have received a provisional cause of death being blunt force head and neck injury, Antonio’s death is still under review with the coroner. 

‘As a mum – because I know quite a bit about concussions – I honestly believe in my heart that he died from second impact syndrome, and the pathology report makes reference to this.’  

Second Impact Syndrome is where a person suffers a second head injury before recovering fully from the first head injury. It can cause rapid and catastrophic brain swelling.  

Wendy has replayed the video footage of Antonio’s final match repeatedly. ‘I just turned into an investigator after it happened because it did not sit well with me. What I could see was that he was out after receiving the second high hit, before his head hit the ground.’  

When you have a catastrophic head injury, brain stem failure can develop within two to five minutes – if you survive, it can be catastrophic. Wendy believes that had her son survived, he would have had severe brain damage. His quality of life would not have been a good one.  

Since all of this happened, Wendy has spent her life advocating for change. 

‘I am going to share his story and shout about it from the rooftops. In a perfect world, I would love to see something called “Antonio’s Law,” legislation at a national or state level that mandates annual concussion education for every coach, trainer and athlete. Other countries have already taken this step, and it is time Australia did the same. What it does is saves lives. Antonio’s story is proof of what happens when education and awareness are missing. My son should still be here. His death cannot be in vain. Antonio’s Law would mean no player, no parent and no community must go through what we did. It would be his legacy and protect countless others. I am going to continue to advocate, and I am not going to back down until I see changes made.’ Wendy has already raised this with state and federal governments.  

In what might be the understatement of the century, Wendy says, ‘As a mum, I feel ripped off. I just know my son’s death could have been prevented. I remember saying to one investigator, “He signed up to play footy – he didn’t sign up to die.”  

These days, Wendy no longer enjoys the football.  She can have it on in the background, but she can’t sit down and watch the game.  

Before Antonio passed, he was designing a cord cap. He wanted to start a small business and call it Happy Lids, so after he died, that’s exactly what Wendy did. With the help of one of Antonio’s friends and a young graphic designer who can no longer play footy from concussions, Wendy brought Happy Lids to life, turning Antonio’s drawings from paper to product, and has trademarked Happy Lids. With every hat sold, funds are donated to the Concussion Legacy Foundation Australia to assist with further research and education into the devastating effects of Concussions, Second Impact Syndrome and CTE.  

If that does not inspire you to go and buy one, nothing will.  

www.happylids.com.au  

 

Shaun Smith, ex-North Melbourne and Melbourne AFL player best known for taking the ‘Mark of the Century’ against the Brisbane Bears at the Gabba in 1995, played over 100 games for North Melbourne and Melbourne in the 80s and 90s.  However, post-retirement, Shaun began experiencing symptoms associated with Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) – a degenerative brain disease caused by repeated head trauma.  

Known for his courageous playing style and spectacular high-flying marks, Shaun suffered numerous head knocks throughout his career. A magnetoencephalography (MEG) scan later revealed significant damage to his frontal lobe, the region of the brain responsible for behaviour and decision-making. Shaun hasn’t worked since 2019.  

Over time, Shaun has openly shared how he has struggled with severe mood swings and flashes of irrational anger. He described these periods as going from ‘zero to nuclear’ in seconds. As he recounts: ‘There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed, and nights where I thought it would be better if I didn’t wake up. I’d look in the mirror and not recognise the person staring back at me. It was like I was losing myself piece by piece.’ He says these profound behavioural changes contributed to the breakdown of his marriage, episodes of homelessness, and legal difficulties – a stark contrast to his celebrated career on the field. 

At his worst, he claims he drank a slab and never wanted to wake up. Thankfully, he had someone in his life who said, ‘Enough! Enough of this rubbish.’ She made some calls and helped get him admitted to the Melbourne Clinic, where he was given psychiatric support and ‘a lot of medication’.  

As he explains: ‘I was there for three months. I was pretty ashamed about it at the time and felt like I had failed, but looking back it was the best thing I ever did. It helped me to escape reality and just focus on myself. The other patients in there were actually great sources of inspiration as well. Jaw-dropping stuff, some of the stories I heard.’  

He continues: ‘One thing I can say to anyone who might be struggling is just go and get some help and don’t bullshit – be honest with yourself about where you’re actually at. Many people will tell a doctor they’re fine but it’s just lies. That was the stepping stone for me, going there. There’s an image I have in my head of my kids coming into my room – they were both so distraught at seeing dad in “the loony bin”. That’s been a driver for me, just seeing that image in my head – that was the moment I said, “Pull your head in, Shaun. Let’s do this for my kids.” 

The other major change that he credits for dramatically improving his situation has been to give up drinking. He is the first to admit that ‘That’s been the big one.’   

Today, Shaun is a passionate advocate for concussion awareness in contact sports. His personal journey highlights the long-term risks faced by athletes and underscores the urgent need for improved concussion protocols and robust support systems. While CTE can currently only be definitively diagnosed post-mortem, Smith’s story is a powerful addition to the growing evidence linking high-impact sports to serious neurological conditions.  

While he still enjoys watching his kids play footy (his son is former Melbourne and North Melbourne player Joel Smith and his daughter Amy won a Premiership in the AFLW with North Melbourne in 2024), he has serious concerns around the risks associated with playing such a high-contact sport. In particular, he is uneasy about the AFL’s one-size-fits-all 12-day return-to-play protocol. As he says, ‘These players are coming back within 12 days, which equates to one game out – they’re coming back playing with a brain injury. The symptoms may be gone after a week but you still have a brain injury. Talk to Alan Pierce about it – he’s saying it’s 26–28 days and that’s a minimum.’ 

Dr Alan Pierce, a neuroscientist and concussion expert, supports extended stand-down periods, emphasising that prolonged exposure to repetitive head impacts is a significant risk factor for neurodegenerative disease. 

Smith explains how he has been pleased to see Garry Lyon using stronger language in the media around players coming back to play with what he described as ‘a brain injury’. ‘He wasn’t dismissing it – concussion is not just a head knock. It is a brain injury.’ 

‘I look at a lot of guys who have concussion and they’re really battling and they’re sitting around doing nothing – but an idle mind is no good for anyone, it means you’re going backwards. I thought to myself, “I’ve got to do something to help myself here.”’ As an ex-plumber who has always loved working with his hands, he decided to become more creative. He now makes fine art with timber in his workshop. ‘I’ve really learnt a lot and it takes a lot of concentration. If you’ve got issues and your head’s not quite right, you don’t have to think about anything else but timber and cutting stuff – it’s been great. I’d be lost without that.’ 

Doing Pilates, and getting movement back in his body, has also been beneficial, as has educating himself around his condition and keeping up with scientific developments.  

He says: ‘A book called CONCUSSION RESCUE (by Dr Kabran Chapek) really got the ball rolling for me, and has led to me doing a lot of reading around all this. Ultimately, it’s all about improving the neuroplasticity in your brain. If your brain gets damaged, your brain can rewire itself around that damage. Like someone relearning to walk – they might be damaged but they can still walk. If I’ve got this CTE thing, which they can only assume, given my symptoms and my history (I was knocked out 14 times, so there’s a fair chance of that) – if it’s gonna get me, I might as well go down swinging.’  

Medication served him well for a period of time. In his words, ‘They really helped to get me back to the land of the living.’ Surrounding himself with good people has been critical as well.  

‘What you read about CTE in the media it’s all doom and gloom. I’m not saying it’s a good place to be, I still have my rough days, but I have actually made myself better. That’s the message I’m hoping to get across. If you’ve got a brain injury from concussion or CTE, it’s not a death sentence, if you can take appropriate action.’