The signing of 16-year-old Visesio Kite by a French rugby club has once again brought to light a growing trend in Australian sport – families relentlessly chasing the highest levels of competition, switching clubs, schools, and even codes to ensure their child is noticed, earns a scholarship, and ultimately secures a professional contract.

Kite has already represented Queensland and Australia at U16 level and is on scholarship at one of Brisbane’s most prestigious private schools. Yet, according to his parents, a lack of local professional interest forced them to take up an offer overseas.

This scenario is becoming increasingly common across junior sport in Australia, where families are treating their child’s athletic career as a high-stakes investment, often prioritising short-term opportunities over long-term development and well-being. The question remains: how much is too much?

The business of junior sport

Junior sport is no longer just about fun and development—it’s an industry in itself. Parents are willing to relocate across states, shift allegiances between clubs, and even switch between sports in pursuit of the most lucrative pathways. The ultimate goal? A scholarship to an elite private school, a spot in a national youth team, and a professional contract before their child has finished high school.

The cases are everywhere, including Joseph Suaalii, who made headlines when he negotiated a multimillion-dollar deal with the Sydney Roosters while still in high school.

Rugby league, AFL, and rugby union academies are scouting kids in their early teens, leading to increased pressure on families to choose a pathway before their child has even matured physically or mentally.

In Kite’s case, his family believed staying in Australia wasn’t an option. But was that truly the case, or was it a calculated move to secure a better financial future?

Chasing the dream or cashing In?

The argument is often framed as “chasing a dream,” but the financial and strategic motivations behind these moves are undeniable. Parents have become managers, agents, and negotiators, shopping their children to the highest bidder.

Photo: Visesio Kite, pictured with his father James, has been cleared to move to La Rochelle. Photo: James Kite

Only a decade or so ago, young players would rise through club or school competitions, play some rep footy, and hope to earn a professional contract in their late teens or early twenties. Now, if an elite private school or professional club isn’t offering a scholarship or contract at 14 or 15, families look elsewhere – whether it be another sport, another club, or even another country.

The risk? These athletes are still kids. The pressure, the expectations, and the identity built around their sporting success can take a toll. We’ve seen cases of burnout, mental health struggles, and injuries derail promising careers before they even begin.

Where does it stop?

Kite’s situation is particularly alarming because he was already on a private school scholarship and playing at a high level in Australia. If a nationally recognised junior representative doesn’t believe he has a future here, what message does that send to other young athletes and their families?

• Should we expect 15-year-olds to negotiate contracts like professionals?
• Will junior talent drain overseas because Australian systems can’t keep up?
• Are we prioritising winning the talent war over developing well-rounded athletes?

At some point, Australian sport needs to reassess its priorities. While professional pathways are essential, there must be safeguards against the commodification of young athletes. Should Rugby Australia, the NRL, and AFL introduce minimum contract ages? Should there be restrictions on how early a child can sign with an overseas club?

The bigger picture

While Kite’s story is just the latest, it won’t be the last. Junior athletes will continue to be scouted, signed, and moved around the globe like assets on a transfer market. The challenge for Australian sporting bodies is not just retaining talent, but ensuring young athletes are given the space to grow into their potential – physically, mentally, and emotionally – without being treated as investments with an expiry date.

At some point, the question needs to be asked: are we setting these kids up for success or setting them up for burnout?