I’ll never forget the day Ben Cousins walked into Triple M. What happened behind the scenes explains the fury over Jacqui Felgate’s interview: JANA HOCKING

I have never trolled a woman online. Ever. But last night I found myself furiously typing an angry paragraph underneath a video I had just watched on Instagram.

It showed a prominent female journalist interviewing – and I use that term loosely here – a divisive sporting figure on a platform he does not, in my opinion, deserve. 

The reporter was 3AW’s Jacqui Felgate, a seasoned newsbreaker with 15 years’ experience, a UN Women ambassador, and the first woman to co-host the Brownlow Medal Count alongside Hamish McLachlan in 2020 and 2021.

Impressive. Right?

The man sitting opposite her was Ben Cousins, the former AFL superstar better known for his spectacular fall from grace than for his achievements on the field.

Felgate was interviewing him for her podcast, Fascinated with Jacqui Felgate.

Now, fine. I don’t mind a good sit-down interview with someone divisive. In fact, I love one. Give me a 60 Minutes-style grilling where someone is willing to sit across from a controversial figure, look them directly in the eye and ask the questions everyone at home is screaming at the television.

Yes, it’s uncomfortable. Yes, it can suck every last drop of warmth out of a room. But that is quite literally part of the job.

Instead, Felgate said to Cousins: ‘A lot of people would say, with you Ben, that you don’t deserve a second chance because of what happened with your former partner, because of the severity of the charges that you faced, and obviously going to jail as a result of that.’ 

Then she asked: ‘So what do you say to them today? You’ve got your second chance now, and when they say you don’t deserve it, what do you say back to them?’

Two things immediately bothered me.

The first was ‘what happened with your former partner.’

No. What happened to his former partner.

And secondly: ‘The charges that you faced.’

Again, no. These weren’t simply allegations hovering unresolved over his head. Cousins pleaded guilty to the offences.

Since Felgate didn’t explain what ‘happened with his former partner’, allow me.

After years of substance abuse and run-ins with the law, Cousins lost the West Coast Eagles captaincy. Despite several failed attempts at rehab, his life quickly unravelled. 

In February 2017, Cousins was arrested and charged with multiple offences, including aggravated stalking, drug offences, and repeatedly breaching a restraining order taken out by his ex-partner and mother of his children, Maylea Tinecheff.

The court heard that Cousins tried to contact her more than 2,000 times in just four months. In November alone, there were 542 attempts, and on one day, 103.

He pleaded guilty and was sentenced to 12 months’ imprisonment. Magistrate Richard Huston described what Ms Tinecheff endured as ‘nine months of terror’.

So forgive me for choking on the phrase ‘second chance’.

How many chances are we talking about?

Cousins hasn’t simply been allowed to quietly rebuild his life, something everyone deserves after serving their sentence. He’s been welcomed back into Australian celebrity culture with open arms.

He’s been hired as a sports presenter for 7NEWS Perth, featured as a marquee contestant on Dancing with the Stars, secured a weekly radio spot on Mix94.5 that turned into a permanent breakfast role, and joined Seven’s AFL commentary team.

And now he’s sitting opposite Felgate, being gently asked what he would say to those who question whether he has ‘earned’ this so-called ‘second chance’.

Second? By my count, we’re long past that. 

This is where the conversation about redemption completely goes off the rails.

Of course I hope that Ben Cousins is healthy and remains sober, and that he is able to rebuild and maintain his relationship with his children and those who love him.

More than anything, I hope he finally gives his former partner the space he denied her for so long.

Addiction is brutal, and recovery should be recognised. But it doesn’t erase the harm done to others along the way.

Those are two separate issues, yet we’re far too comfortable celebrating recovery while quietly ignoring those who were hurt.

That’s why Cousins’ answer to Felgate’s question is so disappointing. Here it is verbatim:

‘Look, I’m just trying to make the most of… umm… make the most of the opportunities that I have today. Umm… I… I… you know… I regret a lot of things that have taken place… umm… you know… I’ve had to come to terms with it… but it doesn’t mean I think that they were OK. I’m just trying to look forward and make the most of the opportunities that I’ve got. I certainly won’t be making a lot of those same mistakes again.’ 

‘Mistakes’. That word bothered me almost as much as the question.

Forgetting your wedding anniversary is a mistake. Sending a regrettable text after a few wines is a mistake. Filling an unleaded car with diesel is a mistake.

But a sustained pattern of stalking – ‘nine months of terror’ – deserves far more soul-searching than ‘mistakes’.

Yet there was no follow-up. No, ‘What exactly are you sorry for?’ No, ‘Have you ever apologised to your former partner?’ No, ‘What accountability have you taken for the fear your behaviour caused her?’ No, ‘Do you understand why women watching this might struggle with your return to public life?’

Instead, the redemption storyline rolled on.

And yet, strangely, the way I stumbled across this video gives me a sliver of hope. 

Lately, my Instagram feed has been full of men speaking out loudly and unapologetically about violence and harassment against women. Footy blokes, ex-players, podcasters – men who speak to other men in language they understand.

Men like former NRL player Luke Bateman, who regularly calls out misogyny and gendered violence to his huge social media following.

In this case, it was a straight-talking bloke named Damien Hopper whose reaction to Felgate’s Cousins interview was as stunned as mine.

That matters. 

For years, women have been told that calling out male violence is somehow ‘anti-men’; that demanding accountability means opposing rehabilitation; and that questioning whether someone should be handed another lucrative platform means you don’t believe people can ever change.

I don’t buy that. People can change. People can rebuild.

But redemption without accountability is nothing but PR spin.

I should know. Years ago, as a publicist for Triple M, I had to send out a press release heralding Cousins’ ‘very exciting’ appearance at a Grand Final live show.

I felt sick doing it.   

At the time, I argued that celebrating him was the wrong move. Frankly, I didn’t think we should invite him at all. That suggestion was shut down quickly.

I wasn’t the only woman at Triple M who felt uneasy. Before the announcement, several female colleagues confided that they were unhappy about giving Cousins such a positive platform.

There was genuine angst behind the scenes the night before the announcement. When the news finally broke, none of that discomfort was acknowledged. We were expected to smile and promote Cousins’ appearance as ‘very exciting’.

And because it was my job, I begrudgingly hit send. I still regret it to this day. 

This is how it happens: one ‘exciting’ guest spot, a reality show here, a radio gig there, a commentary role, another sympathetic interview. Over time, the ugly parts are quietly smoothed over – so ‘nine months of terror’ becomes ‘what happened with your former partner’, and stalking is reframed as ‘charges you faced’.

Curiously, Felgate doesn’t appear to have shared that particular clip from her Cousins interview to her personal Instagram, which has 486,000 followers, even though other snippets from Fascinated get a repost.

Why? Could it be because the comments section of her podcast page, which has a comparatively modest 5,785 followers, was flooded with women – including me – challenging why we’re still giving him the celebrity redemption treatment?

Only Felgate can answer that. But there’s a bigger issue here.

At a time when Australia is reckoning with an epidemic of violence against women, why are so many willing to polish the reputations of famous men – without asking them to publicly and specifically account for the harm they’ve done?

The numbers are shocking. In 2024–25, police took legal action against 97,800 alleged family and domestic violence offenders across Australia. Almost four in five were men, and the national offender rate was the highest recorded since reporting began in 2019–20. 

So maybe this isn’t the time for podcasts to reduce aggravated stalking and restraining order breaches to the polite euphemism of ‘what happened with your former partner’.

Cousins is entitled to recover, move forward and rebuild his life. But a lucrative public redemption tour is not a right.

And if you’re going to give him a platform, at least have the decency to ask the real questions.

Wake up, Jacqui. Read the room.