Financial advantages aren't everything in the AFL, but they still threaten to do more damage to the game than even a mad sports scientist could, writes Jack Kerr.

In late September 2012 - days out from their appearance in the AFL's showpiece event, and just months before the dawning of the "blackest day in Australian sport" - Hawthorn was reported to be spearheading a pioneering new injections regime.

"Hawks set the pace in injection science", read the headline in The Age. In the article, Dr Paul Marks described a program which on the surface might have looked like a form of blood doping, but was actually, in his words, "performance-enabling" rather than performance-enhancing.

While unapproved by the US Food and Drug Administration, the injections were becoming increasingly popular with AFL players battling soft tissue injuries, and the boys from Glenferrie were said to be leading the charge.

It wasn't the first time the Hawks had been on the bleeding edge like this. Their 2008 premiership, their first in almost two decades, was aided by "ultrasound-guided injections on match days", something no other club was believed to be doing.

Irrespective of the legitimacy or appropriateness of this program, a sceptic might, in the wake of the Essendon doping scandal, look back now and wonder if these sorts of medical and technological advantages were behind the Hawks' subsequent, equalisation-defying, triple-premiership run.

Hawthorn might not have access to human growth hormones and EPO, but they have something far more powerful: oodles and oodles of cash.

"The first thing you notice is that there is generally a positive relationship between spending and wins," wrote Andrew Leigh in his 2014 analysis of AFL clubs.

Leigh - the federal Labor MP - checked half a decade's worth of results against each club's off-field spending in those years (2008-2012).

He found that "on average, teams win one more game for every additional $1.1 million they spend". That period's five premierships went to four of the six biggest-spending clubs.

While clubs have to live within the salary cap, it's in other areas - such as the latest medical developments, as used by Hawthorn - where the big spenders were able to pick up advantages.

Which is why the AFL has moved to control the distorting nature of such inequality, and its "luxury tax" on off-field spending will begin to take greater effect this season.

Based on a model used in the US, the "luxury tax" doesn't stop clubs from spending on their high-performance programs. But it tries to put the breaks on it, by charging them a fee - up to 75 per cent - on any spending over a certain cap.

That money is then redistributed to the poorer clubs, though the hope is that there won't be much money to collect: part of the AFL's motivation for the tax is to stop the so-called arms race between clubs as they try to outspend each other off the field.

It ought to mean all teams come to the table with a similar amount of chips at round one, shifting advantage from the big-spending clubs towards the ones who can spend wisely.

Of course, money isn't everything. The low-spending Crows finished second in 2012, and were a kick away from making the grand final; the Western Bulldogs made three preliminary finals.

But it's telling that that's as far as either team could go.

Collingwood, by contrast, seemed to pay overs for their premiership - if such a thing isn't considered priceless; Geelong won two flags with a budget that was around 10 per cent smaller. For a few million less, St Kilda - mid-range in spending - just got a whole lot of heartbreak.

Leigh calls Geelong the "moneyball" team of his study. That is, they managed to win more games than their spending would suggest they should, and did so by the judicious use of their resources.

It's a tempting analogy to make, but it's worth remembering that the original "moneyball" team (as described in the bestseller) were a side that kept on failing when the heat was on.

The Oakland Athletics' clever re-interpretation of how to use sports analytics helped a poor team punch above its weight, and revolutionised the way many sports work these days.

But for four consecutive "moneyball" years, the A's were knocked out of the Major League Baseball play-offs at the first hurdle.

And after that, as deep-pocketed clubs developed analytics of their own, the A's cut-price advantage was gone.

In the decade after Moneyball became a book and hit the stands, the wealthy Boston Red Sox buried the Curse of the Bambino by winning three World Series titles.

"Oakland is unable to compete with clubs that caught up to it intellectually and blow it away financially," wrote Sports Illustrated's Tom Verducci in 2011.

"Intellectual firepower is ... no guarantee of success now that the game's financial giants have cracked the code."

Which may provide little comfort to a team like the Western Bulldogs.

They are, wrote Fairfax's Konrad Marshall late last season, "the newest and truest - perhaps one and only - local version of the Moneyball methodology". (The regular over-achievers at North Melbourne might have something to say about that.)

The key to the Dogs' strategy - which lifted them back into the finals last season - has been the targeted recruitment of "ball-winning terriers with lowly latter draft picks". It goes against the grain of trying to pick the next Nat Fyfe.

It remains to be seen just how effective the approach will be, but should it take off, the Dogs can expect their rivals to follow suit. Which, like the original moneyball team, would leave the Dogs back at square one. Or, more likely, knocked out of yet another preliminary final.

As for Hawthorn's tilt at a fourth straight premiership, well, not even a luxury tax might stand in the way of that.

There are, naturally, other ingredients that go into a successful season, not just finances. Leigh found that money accounted for just "one-fifth of the variation between teams" in the AFL.

But in a game of one-percenters, one-fifth is massive leg up, and threatens to do more damage to the game than even a mad sports scientist could.

Jack Kerr is a journalist and documentary maker. He tweets @jckkrr.