We finished 14th, Troy Chaplin never won a game as coach, and the chance to do something hilarious in the last round went begging, but it's not all bad news. Oslo just called and we've been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize after uniting Carlton and Collingwood fans through the joy of beating us in thrillers.
Midway through the year, I said we were such an average side that it would be appropriate to finish 11-1-11 with a percentage of 100. In real life we missed this by miles, but it was proven morally correct by a ladder where the results of all games decided by six points or less were reversed and we finished 12-11. So as far as I'm concerned the theory was right, I was just dudded by the execution. We played six games decided by single figure margins and lost the lot, so this is not a team you'd want defusing a bomb in its final seconds.
It's good that we got that close to finals contenders like GWS, Footscray, and Collingwood x2 (not so much Carlton, and especially not St Kilda), but law of averages suggests a team would take its chances at least once. There was a bit of variety in how we did it, starting the season by conceding in the last 30 seconds, and ending it by frantically failing to score in the last 30 seconds. Sunrise - sunset. It's been shizen, but considering where things looked like going after the early season poundings, there's something to be said for never being thrashed again. Forget the heavy reliance on players who won't be there in a few years, or that we were often so boring the highlights could be liquified and used to euthanise animals, it was a bad season but could've been a lot worse.
God knows why they made us play Collingwood in the last round again after the 2024 edition brought the game into disrepute. On all measurements other than finishing with a higher score, the rematch was more successful. I'd say it's a bit sad that the most excitement most people got from this game was the chance to leave the Pies with a slightly worse finals seeding, but that would be hypocritical after four months of plotting how to wreck the value of a pre-traded draft pick.
I started the night invested only in Operation Avoid Thrashings, but got sucked in when the live ladder caught fire and it briefly looked as if we might end the season on a high. In the end, the result was an appropriate end to the season - we had a massive crack, weren't disgraced, turned on our otherwise dumpster fire forward connection (that one's for you Goody xoxo) for a few glorious minutes, but didn't have four quarters in us against a good team, or the poise to put a game away.
For the second year in a row, Collingwood's percentage concerns didn't come into it. Last time they needed to beat us by about 130 points, and the game became useless once it was clear that wouldn't happen. This time, their top four prospects would be helped by battering us (not realising that Gold Coast would do something stupid like lose to Port Adelaide), so they had a motivation to pile it on. Turns out they weren't up to it, but could still end up with the flag so I'm not setting up an avalanche of receipts by writing them off now.
We didn't have much to play for except pride and whatever level of stuffing up Collingwood the players were up for. I'm suspicious of how much they'd care, half of them probably used to go for the Pies before being drafted. If that didn't float their boat there was always the prospect of finishing one spot higher than last year despite winning four fewer games. This year they didn't have a monkey-off-the-back "yeah, that'll do us" win the previous week, and surely had some motivation to help Troy Chaplin get a win before his term expired. He did not, becoming only the third person to finish his senior coaching career with a 0-3 record but deserves credit for finishing with an aggregate margin about 140 points lower than I'd expected.
Given that the opposition didn't half to win to make finals, I couldn't get excited about moderately sticking it to an enemy that hasn't felt threatened by us on-field for nearly 10 years. I just wanted to get to the final siren with heads held high, and without losing any players to next season ending injuries or suspensions for violence and/or doing any sort of 'ism/'phobia. Low standards mission accomplished. It would've been fun to annoy the cast of Monty Python-looking characters sitting around the boundary line (people who booed May more vigorously for disrespecting a premiership they'd already won than Pickett for walloping their captain in the head), but history says people who made the brave decision to follow the biggest club in the game will always come out ahead in the end.
Ignoring the end result, this gives us something slightly positive to take into the off-season. Try not to think about how much rests on Gawn's shoulders, or how we still largely move the ball like the criminally insane and maybe there's something in the future. But first, the usual off-season shenanigans. Which players will make a break for freedom? Who'll be rumoured to spend their break doing cracktivities? And for the first time since 2011, what's going to happen with a competitive race to become our next coach? Hope they've added a few safeguards to the process since last time.
We do have a permanent CEO now, almost the entire season since he was appointed, and the winner of the
Gary Fogel lookalike contest said they'll be interviewing 6-8 candidates and aim to appoint before the Grand Final. They might have a bulging shortlist, but I wonder how many potential nominees will believe the pro-Buckley media hype, think it's a sham process and decline to participate. I don't believe Buckley is a foregone conclusion, and I'm not going for anyone in particular. Just roll in somebody who is realistic and won't go to pieces if it doesn't start well, then roll on whatever degree of rebuild from 1% to 100% is deemed necessary.
Back to the usual Melbourne-focused programming soon, but in my last men's competition post of the season let's use important real-life issues to mock an AFL administration which makes Fawlty Towers look like the Grand Hyatt. The entertainment on Grand Final Day will be as relevant to me this year as an election in Botswana, but when Snoop Dogg was named as this year's star international guest who didn't think "this could go wrong"? I thought the problem would be his famous love of non-ASADA compliant smokeables, and how far they'd have to park his dressing away from players so they don't have to self-report passive inhalation. Nobody seemed that concerned about massive drug intake, and he didn't even have to claim that all this time he's been singing about Sam Weideman.
Turns out some of his lyrics are a bit spicy. Really, you don't say. Not the guy with hot hits like Bitch Please, I Wanna Fuck You, and various ones about shooting. I know he'll be doing the Olympic Closing Ceremony package, not songs with titles boring white people should avoid like the plague but nothing screams boring and white like AFL HQ, so despite these potential pitfalls they screamed "We'll have that" and slapped down seven figures to book him. And maybe we'd have got the duet on David King's hit single Who Are They? (What's Their DNA?) if Izak Rankine hadn't ignited nuclear level "yeah, but what about..." arguments by unloading one of the words you used to be able to but now can't say on television.
History suggested this left him staring down the barrel of a five week ban and as much chance of impacting the finals as Melbourne. Now people started acting surprised that the famous rap fellow had dropped a few homophobic slurs over the years. You don't say. But the good news is that according to the 'permanently looking on edge as if he's up to something shifty' Andrew Dillon, the AFL "cannot vouch for every lyric in every song ever written or performed by any artist who has or will appear on our stage". Which is true in some ways, but it's not like they booked Dire Straits and discovered the relevant term in one song, in this case there may have been a few red flags. It's up to you whether it should DQ him or not, but they made a rod for their own back by booking him in the first place.
Most people accept that players adhering to standards of human decency isn't part of a commo plot that will end in your kids forcibly having their gender changed, so if you had all this going on and needed to decide on a punishment for Rankine, would you:
a) rely on precedents, give him five games, tell the Crows that if they didn't like it there's a lovely local league to play in, and try to sweep the matter under the rug ASAP, or;
b) engage in the most stage-managed outcome since The Tankquiry, and cut a week off the penalty based on 'medical evidence' that conveniently gives him a chance of playing the Grand Final if Adelaide take the long way to get there, stinks of rort and keeps the story in the news longer than necessary.
You'll never guess what happened, and while nobody's been happy with how the VFL/AFL is run since about 1906, the whole thing was deer-in-the-headlights shambolic. Everyone hated Ross Oakley, but he had more dignity while frantically trying to kill clubs off than the people in charge now do explaining tribunal decisions. This set the penalty at just 25% higher than running into somebody because you didn't make a decision about where the ball was going in the 0.25 seconds available. But it is infinitely more than the nil weeks for threatening opponents on social media.
Speaking of offensive behaviour in a public place, back to season 2025 for the last time. In some ways it's been interesting, but few relating to what happened on field. There were a few last cheap thrills here, but I'm sure the same thing was possible with a few small tweaks to the side. After Casey narrowly avoided the VFL's Wildcard Wankfest and got a week off, I thought we might finish some long-term storylines by giving Laurie another quarter, or completing Tom Campbell's Mr. Powerhouse sweep of playing for the four smallest Victorian clubs. Instead we declined Mr. Dogg's kind offer to Drop It Like It's Hot and surely became the first team ever to start the final round this low on the ladder and pick an unchanged side coming off a loss. After the help we've given them, Casey better win the VFL flag, then stage a hostile takeover of the SANFL, WAFL, and Bundesliga.
It was another game where anyone fanging for a reason to believe in the future could say we were a functioning forward line away from winning. Possibly true in this case, but not sure if that will get us through a full season unless the midfield and defence regain some of their 2021-2023 power. We've known there's a deficiency in our tall forwards ranks for three years but it hasn't stopped us booting the ball down there as if the greatest attacking players of a generation will be on the other end of it. For instance, thumping our first attack of the game to a three-on-one contest, where it was not surprisingly intercepted. Remember doing the exact same thing against Collingwood last time? And every other opponent in recent history, as we set out to do a community service and prove that inside 50s are a shithouse stat that don't mean a thing without context.
Meanwhile, when they got a chance the other lot patiently waited for an opportunity to open up, then landed the ball on a player standing without an opponent in the same timezone. He flubbed it by trying to hand off to one of the Genetic Jackpot Brothers, but the ease of entry suggested we were going to be sliced and diced up the wazoo all night. Didn't happen, but the early returns were enough to make those of us with a nervous disposition worry about a grand slam porking.
By the time we were two goals down I was convinced this would end tragically. For the benefit of people still going on about you-know-what, the second came from Corey Maynard's brother, and all signs pointed to an easy win for the Pies. You couldn't argue against the plan to try and move the ball more quickly by hand, but I'm surprised that in a big fat dead rubber we tried the Langdon vs Daicos tag again. This time it lacked surprise value, and I don't think Ed was as committed to playing the villain across four quarters of desperate scrag. The locals still got upset about it, but I don't think there's anything these grim humans wouldn't boo. It makes me want to hire Buckley just to see if they can be persuaded to turn on him for daring to work elsewhere.
For the second week in a row, there was plenty for the ingrates who have turned on Steven May as if he dried his nuts with the 1941 premiership flag. For those of us who remain hopelessly devoted to him, it was a bit tragic seeing him struggle again. Still have NFI what benefits they were hoping for by rushing him back in the side post-suspension. Everyone knows the ban was garbage, but sending him on an early pre-season would've given us the chance to look at options for the future, and (as it turns out) saved him from two weeks of colour-lowering sadness. He looked to have no confidence, and at the speed we were letting the ball get down there, had no chance of help from his fellow defenders.
Just as I was thinking they should save him from torment and do something last round fun by playing him forward in a swap with Petty, up popped Harrison for our first goal. Which was nice, and there were a couple of times in the first quarter when I was almost ready to accept him starting 2026 as a forward. Then he practically didn't a kick for the last three quarters and I was back to thinking he'd be better served as a defender. I'll go to my grave saying they botched it not seriously trying McSizzle down there midway through last year, and in what may have been (but I hope isn't) his 249th and last game for us we might have chucked him down there on a farewell tour this time.
But somehow a team that has relied on two defenders to prop up its forward line over the last two seasons couldn't make way for a third when it was obvious we weren't going to give up our near sexual fetish for kicking to the top of the square no matter what, while Tom was left to keep seeing how far he could push the boundaries of dissent before the umpire paid 50 against him. It never happened, but he still looked wound-up like a two dollar watch in the post-match video, sitting next to Gawn looking ready to throttle somebody. I'm biased, but if he's not the sort of person we want at the club next year then who is?
Our ball movement wasn't quite at 'death or glory' levels, but there was still more emphasis on moving it quickly than you're likely to see in Round 1 next year. Nice of them to try something different but still not much use if it ends in the ball being kicked into the Death Valley of forward lines. But it worked nicely when Langford scooped up a wayward kick in the middle which ended up with Melksham and Pickett co-walking into an open goal. It was about the easiest one we've kicked all year so I'm surprised they didn't collide in shock.
I'm all for statistical anomalies and wacky milestones, but there's a ridiculous level of importance being put on Pickett becoming the first player to average 20 disposals and two goals per game since Steve Johnson in 2011. Lovely numbers for sure, but Johnson doubled his fun by also playing in a premiership team, not finishing 14th, so there's still some gap between them.
That was good, but once we were the ones benefiting from opposition inaccuracy. They were getting it down there enough that you (well me anyway) felt like the breakthrough was coming at any moment. Instead, after holding on for dear life while they blew multiple chances, there was a classic Reverse DemonTime moment where van Rooyen dropped a mark, but regathered and kicked a lovely snap to level scores. Because you can't relax for a second when we're involved, a centre bounce with 12 seconds left in the quarter turned into them having a shot after the siren.
It missed so no harm done this time, but Mr. X has to do something about centre clearances next year while Gawn is still around. There was finally something for fans of trying somebody else in the middle, as Rivers was at most of the bounces and did well enough that you might ask where this was weeks ago. Alas after ending last year with 58% and 60% centre bounce attendance, McVee was given 0% and 0% this time which is a wasted opportunity. Unless he's leaving, in which case why play him at all?
My confirmation bias machine exploded when they kicked the first goal of the second quarter, but to our credit we wouldn't go away. Sure, the next goal came from Fritsch getting away with the biggest push in the back you'll ever see but it's not like we haven't been jibbed by umpires enough times this year that it should balance out eventually. Somewhere I'm sure one of their fans was bleating about an anti-Collingwood conspiracy, as if the AFL wouldn't chop off a finger to get them a couple of MCG finals in front of 95,000 people.
Then, the people who turned up thinking they were going to have an evening of light entertainment at our expense started clenching up a bit when Melksham chipped one through, before they took advantage of the latest episode of May's tragic end to the season when he got caught in the middle of two players and didn't have the slightest impact on either. I choose to remember the good times.
For last round games between these teams where the favourites do something stupid, this was hardly us going five goals down at quarter time in 2017 without laying a tackle, and torching our chance at playing finals for the first time in a decade. It still came as a shock, and I was starting to come around to the challenge of making life hard for them. Not even because it was Collingwood, just as proof of life on the way out of the season. But normal service seemed to resume in the last few minutes as they spent the whole time attacking and we were back to looking simultaneously all at sea/dying to get the season over with and hit the piss.
The good news for nervous nellies like me was that it was increasingly unlikely that they'd pile on 15 unanswered goals and win in violent fashion. That was still my top thought during half time, having no faith in another (probably) futile third quarter burst against them. But burst we did, and it was very enjoyable. Not until after we'd blown two early chances, then nearly given one up at the other end. Midway through the quarter it was still going well, but not that well before five minutes of glory delivered three goals and the lead.
When Fritsch got another to take it beyond six points it was all but a cover version of King's Birthday, except we didn't wait until the last quarter before taking (and I was still expecting to throw away) a handy lead. Just as it looked like we might survive until three quarter time without conceding for the quarter, Bowey was run down trying to escape defence and they finally kicked straight. But there was more late drama via Melksham, who kicked normally from only slightly further out than where he'd tried an optimistic (e.g. crap) around the corner shot earlier.
And for the second time we responded to a much-appreciated late goal by desperately trying to hand it back. This time the clock got down to four seconds before they marked inside 50. Talk about McDonald mastering the art of dissent, I've never seen a player argue so expressively with the umpire about his line for a kick after the siren. Imagine the scenes if the umpire cracked the shits and took the ball off him for excess sooking, they'd have been coming over the fence.
The good news was that he hit the post, leaving us 10 points up at the last change. Sorry to everyone who believes in good vibes and positive thoughts, but I still didn't think we were going to win. Not because of what happened against St. Kilda, but as they had everything to play for, have won a shitload of thrillers in recent years, and were facing opposition with demonstrated zero killer instinct.
Regardless of what happened, this shit on last year's final round from a massive height. Additional bonus - no lightning delays to extend our miserable season by another half an hour. When that happened I declined the offer to hang around and went to bed, but this was worth propping my aged carcass up for. Especially when Petracca picked a ripper of a time to kick a set shot, making the margin nearly three goals.
Imagine going on with it in a big game. I couldn't, even after 80s teen movie villain lookalike Schultz missed a shot. Eventually they got going through a wacky bounce from a random player, and before long we were behind again. There was finally a bit of story progression when the King's Birthday May Spray came back to haunt him after we conceded a goal from his rubbish panic kick from the last line of defence. I don't know where Gawn was when this happened, but I assume even if he was standing one metre away he'd have restrained himself from a full-throated outburst about the blunder. Then we were done in by a novelty bounce, conceded again, and were more than one kick behind. Live thoughts - we might run that down, probably won't.
And the rest of the game can be summarised in the same way as all our forward play 2023-2025. We spent a few minutes madly trying to force a goal with bulk entries but never got one. Langdon had a chance to play the unfamiliar villain card one last time, but his snap missed everything, leaving us still a kick behind and a chance at worst of nicking a draw. When Sharp came on he broke the record for most starts as a sub, but I'm not sure they were actually going to use him until an attempted Culley mark ended with him landing on his face at an unusual angle. Top content if he'd come out of nowhere to kick a decisive goal but didn't go closer than taking a ball in mid-air and getting tackled straight away.
By the end we were down to Turner nearly pulling down a cameo mark (where was McDonald you bastards?), but couldn't score again before time ran out. They won and are off to the finals, we didn't and are off to the players running out/coach running in the door races. It's all been said at some stage of the 22.9 posts from this home and away season, so that'll do me until next year. To quote something you may hear at half time of the Grand Final, hope you ready for the next episode. (Smoke Weid everyday).
2025 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Clayton Oliver
4 - Max Gawn
3 - Harvey Langford
2 - Trent Rivers
1 - Christian Salem
Apologies to Fritsch and Turner
Final results
No change to the podium, with Gawn extending the margin to record levels. His total is the highest ever in a non-finals season, and the +33 margin is the widest in Jakovich history. I have similar views about him to Bill Lawry on Merv Hughes in The 12th Man, and hope he's got a few more years left of us running him into the ground. Elsewhere, it's congratulations to Jake Bowey who holds on for the first non-key defender win in the Seecamp since 2019, and to Harvey Langford who had the Rising Star locked up the moment Lindsay was confirmed out, but still slapped an exclamation mark on it with a great performance to end the year.
In the all-time standings, Gawn went past Oliver for top spot this year, and there have now been 143 players to score votes since Round 1, 2005. Come back next year and find out if I finally decided to give the Rising Star a sensible or gimmick name.
67 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year and Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
34 - Kysaiah Pickett
24 - Jake Melksham
22 - Christian Petracca
21 - Clayton Oliver
20 - Jake Bowey (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
18 - Daniel Turner
17 - Jack Viney
16 - Tom McDonald
14 - Harvey Langford (WINNER: Rising Star Award)
13 - Steven May, Christian Salem
11 - Kade Chandler, Bayley Fritsch
9 - Ed Langdon, Trent Rivers
7 - Xavier Lindsay, Harrison Petty
4 - Tom Sparrow
3 - Judd McVee
2 - Jake Lever
1 - Jai Culley, Harry Sharp, Jacob van Rooyen
Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Pickett vs Port Adelaide wins overall for dash, finish, and just for being a tiny bit of enjoyment in an otherwise beige season. For that reason, I'm going past his goal in the third quarter here and giving it to van Rooyen for the snap at the end of the first quarter because dropping the mark first made it more fun.
Next Week
Casey try to pay off our late season focus on them winning a flag vs senior development. And I'll be chuffed if they do. Otherwise I'll be watching the W, and all other forms of Australian Rules Football can do one.
Revenge of the Spitebury Plan
Unless Essendon's handful of battered survivors beat Gold Coast in the traditional Round 24B game, we'll finish in exactly the same spot as last year. That's not a good thing, except where you've pre-traded a draft pick that will now be cashed in for allegedly lesser players, in a pool compromised up the wazoo by father/son and academy picks.
It won't be known for years whether Lindsay or Mr. X is the better player, but it's a better result than early in the season when it looked like we could be forking over pick one. Whoever Essendon gets I hope he retires to join an apocalyptic cult two weeks after the draft.
Final thoughts
It's been a weird year, but I've had worse. At the end of our 21st (!!!!!) season of men's coverage, I'd like to offer the traditional thanks to everyone who regularly goes through this nonsense. Here's to next year being interesting for non-cataclysmic reasons. Until next time, take care of yourself and each other. Cheerio and Go Dees.
