Sunday, 9 April 2017

Kicking into danger

It was all going so well at our old nemesis - a winning streak, a closed roof just as the weather was going troppo, more manual ticket scanning so you weren't stuck behind some dickhead who couldn't read instructions, and even an aroma from their Kaiser rip-off gourmet snag bar so appealing that I was lured into dropping $11.70 on a kransky. Then the footy started.

There was no problem in the first five minutes, in fact we were quite good. Then a lot like St Kilda 2016 x2 the walls caved in after we stopped fruitlessly attacking and gave the other team a go with the ball. Our early domination came to nothing more than two behinds, one by Garlett from a zany angle that barely scraped the post, and the other featuring Anal-Bullet starting the day's big storyline by missing a complete sitter.

Even at this point, with Gawn dominant in the ruck (if not around the ground) and the ball pinging towards our goal at a rapid rate, I still didn't think we were going to win. Although we've toppled both of them recently I still never do at Etihad or against Geelong. The rarefied air of 2-0 wasn't fooling me, even as Richmond were confounding expectations across town by winning their third game in a row I knew we were mid-table fodder at best and would have been satisfied getting out of this with a battling loss to set us up for Freo next week then the dual bubble bursters against the Tigers and Essendon after that. Like every other time I've gone in thinking I'd be ok with a competitive performance and we've nearly won I threw all that "just happy to be alive" shit out the window when it started to look like we might, then left in a foul mood when we didn't.

My nerves about being exposed as frauds are still so raw that I was even punting Richmond home against West Coast, with the theory that the better they go now the less it will hurt when they finally beat us in the Anzac Day eve game. I thought mid-table mediocrity would be a fun place to be, but it's even more stressful than being flat-out shit. I thought being mediocre it would at least be profitable, but tell that to the poor bastard trying to sell the ad space on the back of our jumper. When our five minute bubble was popped with three goals in a row I had visions of a dozen prior debacles against the Cats and started to expect we'd be thrashed. Precisely the same thing happened against St Kilda, but they are no Geelong - the club that turned a steeplechaser into a best and fairest while we were busy massacring the career of multiple top five draftees.

The problem with a smaller forward line, especially with the Weid nearly anonymous and Watts bouncing from end-to-end trying to keep us afloat once Maximum went down, is that you can't rely on the old thump and hope methods that work when you've got leviathans like Hogan and Gawn wandering around inside 50. It took a while for anyone to realise this, and they kept kicking into attack as if they expected Garlett or Kent to climb over a pack like Shaun Smith and haul in the mark of the 21st century. With no properly constructed goals on the agenda it took Petracca expertly snapping around the corner to get us on the board, and we'd have gone a lot better after this if everyone had treated their set shots the same way and kicked them on the run through a crowd.

Even though a loose first kick set up Geelong's second goal I enjoyed Tim Smith's game, especially discovering that he was the next cab off the rank for emergency ruckmen when Watts needed a rest, and though he didn't tear the house down he's definitely gone ahead of Weideman for now. As much as I loved that goal against St Kilda when the ball burst off Sam's foot like a Scud missile he needs to do what Smith has been doing for years and toil for form on some slagheap VFL grounds. There will be a school of thought that you play him next week so he can fill his boots against a shit team, but that way lies madness. Even with Hogan unable to manhandle Zac Dawson again due to a sooky punch I wouldn't risk him. Pedersen and Spencer are the no frills faction but both will at least get near the ball, and if Weideman is able to locate where the VFL has gone this year he should be able to get his development moving with a few full games as the focal point for Casey.

The best bit about Smith was how he pumped through a set shot with no fuss, which is more than you can say for almost everyone else. My favourite part was how Jetta and T. McDonald were taking their defensive responsibilities so seriously that they didn't leg it down the ground to jump all over him in celebration. I'm sure he knows they care without having to be manfully patted on the buttocks. The way our defensive structures were going they probably didn't want to get too far up the ground in case they got lost.

Other than a couple of their traditional howlers our defenders were good with ball in hand, but like the Saints, Dogs and god knows how many other games last year did a convincing Burke and Wills impression whenever the ball was turned over or came towards goal quickly. While we were torching half a dozen opportunities in the third quarter Geelong had more chances than that to stream forward quickly and find so many men waving their hands in the air that it looked like the aftermath of a maritime disaster. All that saved us was that they compensated for their deadeye goalkicking by burning an endless stream of free players inside 50 with horrible field kicks.

My key finding was that we'll do fantastically against teams that don't have good forward lines - though we played one last week and barely fell over the line so perhaps it's more accurate to say we'll do very badly against teams with good forward lines. Especially ones that can move the ball quickly out of defence and find us out of position, with multiple players running towards goal and one small defender to guard them.

Like St Kilda all over again we recovered from a disappointing first quarter by immediately romping back into the game at the start of the second. Two straight goals cut the margin to a couple of points, but unfortunately there was no bulldozer rampage on the cards this time, and a clever tap-on in the Cats' forward line set up Dangerfield - as relatively well held as you can be when you have 35 touches - to waltz into an open goal and restore control. The re-introduction of the tap-on has been a joy this season, the problem is that our foremost practitioner of the art is Melksham and he's at the other end of the field. Still, he did a couple of rippers yesterday amongst probably his best game with ball in hand (or bouncing off the hand towards a teammate) yet. Without ball in hand he was like all our other defenders - trapped in an alternate universe well away from dozens of Geelong players launching a human wave attack on goal.

We might have recovered from that goal to keep the momentum up, especially considering our fierce forward pressure was scaring the shit out of Geelong's defence, but despite having them under siege across the field couldn't convert a set shot if our lives depended on it. Smith followed his perfect strike from a difficult angle by missing a sitter, but so did practically everybody else.

We've been through this before, but for those of you who are just joining in 2017 let me reissue my theory on missed goalkicking. You cannot assign one miss to another and build them up as a case that if a team kicked (lots of goals instead of lots of points) rather than (lots of points instead of lots of goals) the result would have been different - because once the first kick that should have been converted was, then the game would have played out differently and the conditions that allowed the team to have the next behind (and the next one, and the next one, and in our case this time the next one after that) wouldn't exist. Garlett getting the first goal might have propelled us to kicking 20 straight or not scoring again and losing 1.0.6 to 35.30.240 - it is needlessly simplistic to say that we'd have won if we'd kicked 19.13 or even 14.18. The worst you can do from a missed shot is lose 11 points, the extra five you'd have got from kicking it and any immediate end-to-end goal by the opposition.

Raw and joyless statistical analysis aside we necked ourselves big time with the ludicrously bad goalkicking. There were times where one straight kick would have had untold morale boosting benefits and we flubbed it. Times when Geelong were visibly wobbling under a ferocious amount of forward pressure and one more goal might have tipped the game in our favour, but they were given an out and went down the other end to exploit a defence that was ok in one-on-one contests and decent with ball in hand but were more often than not trapped dangerously out of the position against fast breaks.

The three quarters of missing sitters made everyone forget about how we were being ransacked by the umpires, and that both holding and dropping the ball had seemingly abolished from the laws of the game, but that's how the Wheel of Decisions goes. Last week it was Carlton fans howling as we got a spectacular run of dud calls, now the leveller. Of course when the Cats got robbed blind once in the third quarter their fans nearly tore chairs from their sockets and tearfully hurled them at the field. It's frustrating, but impires don't cause a backline to crack like an egg and leave Neville Jetta and Tom Hawkins in a marking contest with acres of space in front of goal. Once we've sorted out a sponsor for the back of the jumper we should get somebody to pay to be associated with all the times the zone dies in the arse and Nifty is left desperately trying to spoil a much bigger player. Prozac would be good.

If I may continue on the rules - for a second week in a row after complaining about the focus of the AFL always being on the rules rather than the play - does the advantage rule give anyone else the shits? In a normal situation where the free is played while a player has the ball in hand or it's right in front of him there's no problem with it, but what about when the ball bounces several metres forward as the free is being payed and somebody's allowed to just scoop it up and take off? Anything to keep the ball moving apparently, no matter how unfair it is to the team on the end of it. Let's talk again when one goes in our favour and we can agree what a great rule it is.

Of course after we missed two in a row they went down the other end and found Hawkins to make no mistake. Fancy having a big focal point in front of goal rather than sitting in the stands for two weeks. He is the man all Kingsleys aspire to be - somebody who saves their best for Melbourne every time but has also gone on to kick 400 goals and win three premierships. It helped that he was left with Melksham half defending him with the other closest players being Vince, Salem and Oliver. It was not the first time they took advantage of Tom McDonald being on the bench to stitch us up - if you think you're gloomy about Max being out for four weeks imagine what will happen to us if Sizzle goes as well. For all the ridiculous panic about his occasional wonky kicks we'd be dead without him at the moment.

It took another goal from open play to show the forwards how it was meant to be done, with a panic kick under tremendous pressure out of Geelong's defence landing in the arms of Jayden Hunt with acres of space. He looked up, pondered his options for a second, realised everyone else would miss and just plowed it through from 50 on the run instead. Like the commentator I too like Kent and Hunt. True to form we missed another pair of set shots straight after, I know we had the Cats on the rack but it was a bit ambitious to be trying to set up 10 point plays.

My favourite miss - and I can't remember who was kicking it because they all eventually blend into one - was when the Geelong player on the mark turned his back during the run up. I wait with bated breath for him to try that against a better team and be standing there facing the other way as the kicker plays-on, dashes past him and runs into an open goal.

Gawn had been playing angry all day, including provoking Selwood into a free-kick winning overreaction so violent Lindsay Thomas would have applauded, so it's no wonder his hamstring went out under the strain. When he hobbled off in visible pain I thought not only were we gone for the day, but probably the season as well. Aided by the same radio dickheads who called "Tim Salem", "Oliver McDonald" and said "I love Hunt and Kent!" going on about him clutching at his knee I was having horrible flashbacks to all the times I'd ended an off-season discussion with "... but we couldn't be as lucky with injuries as we were last year". Turns out he's only done his hammy, and while that's good news for unrestricted free agent/future life member The Spencil over the next four weeks it exposes our good fortune in getting through all of 2016 without Gawn missing a game. Watts has been a competent second ruckman since mid-last year but the idea of him doing the entire second half solo (or as it turns out, with the sort of battling but not as good cameo from Smith that Jack usually provides for Gawn) didn't seem like it would end in anything other than tragedy. As it turns out he played one of the gutsiest games of his career, but you wouldn't want him doing that every week.

Thanks to the pressure we were hanging around and annoying Geelong without ever being able to get in front. It took a bit of Watts magic to keep us withing a goal at the break. In came Jack - often accused of not showing enough effort by people who were dropped on their heads as children and the rest of us whenever we get frustrated and need an easy target - having just realised he was going to have to ruck for two quarters straight in Gawn's absence, tackling two players, bouncing it to himself like a basketball on the hardcourt Docklands surface, then summing the open goalsquare and smashing the ball through with a perfect roll from 70 metres. We weren't going to get far if it was going to take goals like that to stay in it but I won't say no to random outbursts of magic.

The third quarter was more of the same, scaring the bejesus out of the other side with lightning transition (give me a C! give me an L! give me an I! You know the rest...) and violent tackling but blowing a procession of easy shots. Watts was doing well enough in the ruck contests for an enthusiastic amateur, and put in a mighty effort around the ground as we finally got in front via 5.6 of often frustrating attempts to put the ball through the middle two sticks. At the same time Geelong couldn't miss, kicking 14.2 for the first three quarters while we were burning good opportunities left, right and centre.

The pattern of scoring speculative, fluky goals but missing sitters continued. Neal-Bullen kicked one out of mid-air to open the third quarter and put us in front, and I'll forgive Jones for missing one on the run because I'd probably forgive him for murder, but then the otherwise excellent Kent joined in the missed set shot party. Fortunately he got a dodgy free in the square not long after, and converted from a range that even a Melbourne player couldn't miss from to give us a buffer of over a goal. This complete madness was quickly brought to a halt by another Hawkins goal almost immediately after. Then Garlett missed one of his casual around the corner set shots from the boundary and Geelong bounded down the other end almost unchallenged to walk through our elastic defence and go back in front.

We pottered through several more missed opportunities, before a chain of handballs where nobody wanted to have the shot finally landed with Jetta. Like Hunt before him, he showed everyone how it was done and kicked truly. The game went up a notch as we traded goals with them, before first Kent converted a classic counter-attack goal on the run then Harmes got a set shot from MFC range (0-10 metres) to leave us 15 points up deep into the quarter. This was quite ridiculous, but as long as we could get to three quarter time with that lead intact then we'd outplayed Geelong in so many ways that we'd just have to stay fit and break even in the ruck and we'd have been every possible chance. So we conceded two goals at the 31 and 33 minute mark. After the first one we tried to stack the defence and avoid conceding, which worked about as well as you'd expect. You can throw a dozen seals into the water at Sea World, but unless you train them what to do they're just going to lie there looking stupid.

After Harmes' goal we stopped playing and suddenly it looked like everyone was out of gas and dying to get to three-quarter time. We've gone into a last quarter out on our feet before and responded - remember the second Collingwood game in 2015? - but like Carlton last week one numpty kick instantly sucked all the air out of a team and the opposition responded by cartwheeling to a surprisingly easy victory.  I do have feelings for Neal-Bullen, and maybe it's protective instinct considering he reminds of Cale Morton, but what in god's name was he thinking trying to kick backwards from 30m out to a player in the defensive square? It deserved to be chopped off and converted into a goal, and that gift was soon followed by another to really rub it in. We'd outplayed them for much of the day, but when you get right down to it there is still a massive gulf in class between the sides. At least we got 90 points closer than the last time we played, and didn't need to go to Kardinia Park to see it.

If I didn't already know it was over at the end of the third quarter those two goals put it away. They looked like a side who were going to run until the final bounce while we had a ruckman playing a heroic innings that seemed likely to end with him being carted off in an ambulance through over-exertion and half a squad with hands on their hips looking like they'd done everything they could. The real problem in the last quarter - before and after we were given an extra life by Hannan snatching a failed handball in front of goal to bring the margin back to less than two kicks - was that everyone was either too fatigued or too scared to take the game on like they had for most of the day. That's what built a 15 point lead to start with, not flat-footed kicking to stationary targets. There was still effort, there just wasn't much system to go along with it. When even Jetta was stuffing the ball down an opponent's throat inside 50 to concede a goal - probably his first fatal error of the season - you knew we were cooked.

Who knows if it would have turned out the same way with them, but Hogan and Lewis would have been handy. Recruiting Lewis was buyer beware due to his known history of gleefully thumping people (though he could have waited until his carryover ban ended in Round 5 before reoffending) but this is the second time Hogan has been rubbed out for overreacting to off the ball niggle. It didn't matter that there was barely anything to it, or that the Carlton's players 'delayed concussion' fortunately cleared up in time for him to play this week, you can't go around swatting people in the head. You're on massive money to be the focal point, best get used to people scragging you without reacting like a petulant kid every time.

With the game dead and buried Sizzle Sr clattered into the back of Selwood after a mark on the wing, and like Hogan's little jab last week there wasn't much to it but you knew it would be penalised with a 50. To rub it in they paid about 85. Tom should have made it worthwhile and added a bit more force to see if he could get his head to spontaneously erupt in blood like Mt. Krakatoa again. Of course Selwood sold it as if he'd been clubbed in the back with a baseball bat, but like that NQR bloke dressed as a glittery cat in the crowd there's nothing I can say that won't end in him pointing at a room full of premiership merchandise so go for it. We'll probably finally get into ducking and diving just as the AFL really get serious about eradicating it - like when they introduced reports for staging, and in one of the five weeks where it was actually enforced the late, lamented Lynden Dunn managed to be pinched for it. We should get that guy back on a short-term loan, he would walk into the side at the moment.

Fittingly it ended with Vince missing - this time a shot on goal, rather than any target like the rest of the day - and we got a valuable lesson in our development. Take your chances and play four quarters instead of pulling up comfortably after executing a blistering comeback. It fired me up for more though, I want to play again tomorrow. This is like stumbling through the slow, early episodes of a TV show that you're convinced is going to turn out to be great.

2017 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year
5 - Jack Watts
4 - Jayden Hunt
3 - Nathan Jones
2 - Dean Kent
1 - Clayton Oliver

Maximum apologies to Billy Stretch, who was just nudged out of the last spot. Other apologies to Melksham, McDonald, Jetta and Garlett.

Leaderboard
What a many and varied collection this is so far, and still nothing for red-hot pre-season favourite Jack Viney who is suffering a Trengove-esque post co-captaincy fall from grace. Time to have him torment Fyfe for four quarters next week.

7 - Clayton Oliver
6 - Neville Jetta (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year), Nathan Jones
5 - Christian Salem, Jack Watts
4 - Jeff Garlett, Jayden Hunt
3 - James Harmes
2 - Max Gawn (LEADER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year), Dean Kent
1 - Jesse Hogan


This was a strong showing from the Cats. Unlike North they didn't spell their captain's name wrong, there was no gigantic curtain for players to cheat through, the font and kerning were of an acceptable quality and most notably in the International Year of Banner Banter they managed to do one with a rhyme that scanned properly but didn't stoop to trying to get rock bottom cheap laughs at the expense of the opposition. They even did the polite thing and rotated it so all parts of the ground could see both sides - one of them was an ad, but you've got to pay the bills somehow.

So, we commend Geelong for their strong showing but they still lose. Ours had a better font, superior kerning, and two lovely flame effects down either side. Like Nathan Jones there's a lot to be said for being solid and dependable rather than trying to be unnecessarily flashy when it's not required. Dees 3-0

Capitalism Corner
The rear of jumper saga is getting a bit ridiculous now, there's only 19 rounds to go (finals?) and the price must be dropping by the week. All you can do is put your faith in the most attractive bald head under god's green earth and expect that the result will still be lucrative and preferably long-term.

Crowd Watch
As I get older and progressively lazier I'm coming to appreciate Docklands for its convenient location, and for the roof as long as it's closed at all times no matter what the conditions outside, but one thing they will never beat the MCG for is the ability to get away from people. There were 29,000 people there - roughly 25k under absolute capacity - and yet even in the back row I had strangers surrounding me. It was one of those days where I just wanted to go to the game solo, swear openly and make a dickhead of myself in seclusion where it wouldn't offend anyone else, but even after changing sides at half-time I couldn't get away from children.

This was especially problematic in the first quarter when I greeted Vince's deliberate out of bounds with a loud "get fucked with deliberate you fucking arsehole" (not sure if towards the umpire or Vince) only to realise when I saw a bunch of heads turn in my peripheral vision that not far to the right was a family with two kids old enough to know what the f-word was and that anybody who used it in public was a shit bloke. I momentarily considered apologising, before chickening out and never looking in that direction again for the rest of the half before moving. You'd never get that in Row MM of the Ponsford for a game with less than 60,000 people - and if there are that many people there it's probably Queen's Birthday and you've got more to worry about with the opposition supporters than us.

From the back row, with only families of Geelong supporters and some crunt who was lying across multiple seats like a drunk sleeping it off in a park for company, I got a great view of hundreds of people joining in a 'Dance Off'' like they were having the time of their life. And maybe they were, who am I to judge people who are happy to cut a rug in public with the express goal of being shown on the big screen. It just makes me uncomfortable because I'm the polar opposite to these people, painfully self-conscious and not even wanting to walk down the steps to go and take a whizz because it means people seeing me go back up again. If you thought the Dees needed a psychologist - and don't let two wins in a row fool you, they still do - they've got nothing on me for crippling mental issues. Thank god for having 42 bays to myself next week - and god help us all when we not only go back to Etihad at the end of the month but have to mingle with Essendon fans.

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
You could have the Ben Holland Medal for Missed Sitter Of The Week, but for once let's concentrate on the positives. There were four very good contenders here, and despite this well written threat (sadly not constructed from letters cut out of a newspaper) I'm relegating Jetta showing the forwards how it's done to a tie for third place with Hunt's Howitzer. Besides, as The Beatles found out people torching your product (right here sports fans) is the best advertising you can get.
Second goes to ANB and his speculative thump out of mid-air - a goal the AFL highlights people don't deem worthy of qualifying for the showreel. The only thing I love more than a goal from a player just lobbing his boot at the ball and hoping for the best is crumb, and in any ordinary week this would have been a worthy winner but not when you've got this. Say hello to your clubhouse leader.
For the weekly prize Jack wins a voucher donated by a Dr Josef Heiter, giving him the right to take to any three media personalities he likes with surgical tools for 60 minutes.

Next Week
Who knows if the VFL has started yet. The Casey Scorpions Demons website can't tell me because they've posted one update since September 2016. I assume the actual competition has been cancelled, and it's been reduced to a barnstorming series of exhibition games like a low-rent Australian version of the Harlem Globetrotters featuring Dean Uthoff. I suppose it doesn't matter, practice matches are as good as the real stuff when the only goal is giving players a run in live conditions.

Next it's Freo at the MCG, for what should be on paper a violent thumping victory for us. But who's actually confident of that? I'm assuming another Carlton style battling win, or in the worst case scenario Cameron McCarthy and Shane Kersten launching a joint bid to become a Kingsley by sharing 13 goals. It's better for us that they beat the Bulldogs, if they'd only given them a scare people might have remained tempted to predict a massacre while they would have been desperate to go one step better. Now let's hope they've got winning out of their system, tire themselves out singing heave ho and arrive in Victoria completely unprepared. Let's just settle for four points and any unusually large victories that come along the way will be a lovely surprise.

The first two ins are relatively obvious, but Kennedy is just a red hot guess. Hannan's last two games haven't been much chop compared to the first, and he can go and get some form alongside Weideman in the seconds.

IN: Spencer, Pedersen, Kennedy
OUT: Gawn (inj), Hannan, Weideman (omit)
LUCKY: Tyson, Vince
UNLUCKY: Who would even know?

Was It Worth It?
We imploded from a winning position in a stadium where you're forced too close to humans for comfort, but ultimately yes. One day we'll look back at afternoons like this and realise it was a vital step towards becoming a really good side, but at the moment I'm still bitter and twisted about it. That's probably a good sign, imagine the glee you'd have had even last year kicking 96 points and pushing Geelong for three quarters? That sort of mid-table mediocrity shit is very 2016, and even if I think that's exactly where we'll end up this year it doesn't mean I have to like it.

Final Thoughts
Some people go to games and vent their frustrations by screaming vile abuse at all and sundry for four quarters, and they will probably live to a ripe old age while people like me who internalise the pressure will topple over and die before reaching 40. I've got four years before then, and I'm still convinced there's a very good team brewing here. The most important thing is selling that to good players from other clubs so we can accelerate things a bit, Geelong were handed Patrick Dangerfield in gift-wrap but look at everyone they've managed to knock off from other clubs. In recent years the only even remotely premium player we've got from anywhere else - with apologies to Hibberd who is still an unknown quantity, and Lewis who is on the downside of his best years - was Vince. Everyone else has been a bit-part player, and most of them have been ok but we're just lacking the big hits that will push us over the edge. I'm not expecting to get Fyfe and Martin at the end of the year, but plugging gaps at either end of the field is going to be important if we're going to get anywhere quickly. Now watch us end up tackling our accuracy issues by signing Levi Casboult.

Monday, 3 April 2017

The Mediocre Escape

We had to take the long way, via a frightening flashback to last year's Round 2 fiasco, but eventually it ended in the Melbourne Football Club being 2-0 for the first time since 2005 and Simon Goodwin becoming the first coach to win his opening two games since John Northey. Forget the bit where we almost lost to Carlton again, what's not to enjoy?

Who didn't secretly fear another debacle here? We tried to turn over a new leaf of positivity, but deep down you had to be terrified of what we'd do as red hot favourites against a side coached by somebody out of the Clarkson School. After Carlton 2015, Essendon 2015, Essendon 2016 and Carlton 2016 most people had learnt their lesson about making outrageous public pronouncements about winning by triple figures, but even though 95% of me was terrified of humiliation the other 5% wondered if this would finally be the day we graduated from errand boys to assassins. The wait continues.

It wasn't just the prospect of completing another unwanted Full Shithouse by adding our third loss to Carlton to the two against Essendon, I knew our recent record in Round 2 was disappointing but didn't realise that the average losing margin since 2006 was 73.7 points. Bernie Vince must have recognised the high potential for humiliation when he got his traditional early season report out of the way by punching a hapless St Kilda player in the back of the head last week.

Following Melbourne has affected me psychologically to the point where I've started to get into omens, so when I turned up to discover that we were not only taking on half a side recruited from GWS but also a boundary umpire called Scully it felt like bad times were brewing. I was clutching to anything to convince me we weren't going to win so it didn't feel like such a crushing shock when we didn't. Ironically the scoreboard kept encouraging us to sign up to a Melbourne Experiences program, and what more Melbourne experience is there to sit in the MCG with the air slowly deflating from you like a faulty hot air balloon? If the next phase of our supporting life is for that to happen but we still win then I can dig it.

The way it started you might have been fooled into thinking an avalanche was on the cards. Everyone loves Centre Bounce Hogan™, and his mop-up from defensive side of the square wound up with Garlett 50 metres out. Jeff (under no circumstances 'Jeffy') had a cow of a game in his first start against the Blues, then missed last year with a surprise skin infection, so given that record it was unlikely he'd finally make them pay for giving him away in a fire sale. Then he was one of the best on ground, so thanks again for that Carlton. It wasn't just crumb and run-down tackles, his pass to Watts for the first goal was perfectly weighted to leave Jack 20 metres out practically directly in front.

It was a good first minute, and you'd think keeping the ball off the opposition would have been an unbeatable tactic but the way they set up defensively after this we couldn't help but continually give the ball back. Roll on an afternoon where we couldn't take advantage of our attacks and suffered a bunch of goals (relatively speaking from a team that scored 64) from fluky bounces.

We still have a deeply ingrained desire to put teammates under pressure. Like the first quarter against the Saints it was get the ball and handball it to any teammate in the vicinity, no matter what position they were in. It came good that day, but that's because their pressure went from 100% to 1% for two quarters. When we're allowed to run free like playing Melbourne 2012-2013 it looks majestic but the complication is when the other team tries to defend. Which most teams are going to do, though I hope to god we take advantage of a few who can't before the end of the year and pulverise them. We couldn't pick our way through Carlton's biblical flood, and they didn't stop tackling until halfway through the last quarter. That left us far too close to defeat for comfort.

For all the hanging of shit on rapid handballing our second goal was created by it. Eventually they threw a couple of kicks in, landing with Jones standing on 50 who took a step and hammered it through. At this stage I began to believe in a glorious massacre, which is clearly what you never do as a Melbourne fan because the reversal is never far behind. In came somebody fans of no other clubs have ever heard of called Matthew Wright, who is making a bid for a spot in the Kingsleys by rumbling us every time we play. He kicked the first of the lucky goals when a speculative tap-on fell right into his hands, and all our early momentum was wasted.

Their first goal came from an aimless tap-on which just happened to fall into the right place but I've been impressed at how we've added the perfectly sensible tap-on to our game this season. Since the first pre-season game players who've had the ball floating over their head have realised that they'll be buried - and probably pinged for holding the ball - if they take possession so they've done cute flicks to teammates. That can't last, like whatever that fancy shit we were doing with our centre bounce set-ups last year, surely other teams will work out what's going on and put a stop to it quickly.

It wasn't all disaster after Carlton's first goal, Viney might have been almost absent and both Tyson and Melksham turning the ball over whenever they got it, but Weideman took a massive pack mark right in front of goal for the third and looked like normal service was being resumed. After the second lucky bounce goal we went into our shell, shit ourselves whenever we got the ball and fell right into Carlton's defensive trap.

Though we were almost three goals up just before half time the momentum had shifted. Our disposal efficiency had gone through the floor and there was no more comfortable marauding down the field into attack. Maybe if we'd got to half time with the margin intact things would have been more comfortable, instead who didn't know that Dale Thomas would do something spectacular after the morning papers had about five pages on what a terrible recruit he'd been and why he should retire immediately. He took a screamer and set up a goal on the siren to cut the margin back to 10.

They didn't look much like a team who'd be able to create enough goals to win, but we looked like one who might be provoked into handing them over with horrible turnovers - even in a week where McDonald Sr risked breaching contract by not unloading a single goal conceding howler in an otherwise strong performance. His brother wasn't bad either, but given that Carlton's attack is about as fearsome as ours was in the year where Chris Dawes was leading goalkicker with 20 it's better to wait for more accomplished opposition to judge where we're really at.

It started going wrong in the third quarter, but not until after 10 minutes where neither side could kick a goal and it looked for all the world like a Round 21 game between 15th and 16th placed sides desperately hoping for the season to end so half of them could be delisted. Because we won I'll say it demonstrated we have plenty to work on, like Hogan not missing sitters from directly in front or conceding four of the first five Carlton goals through turnovers. Like last year turnovers were death for us, because whenever we did one the opposition would have half a dozen players standing on their own. This usually led to the rock solid as ever Neville Jetta trying to take on shithouse but much larger forwards. It feels like we haven't improved all that much from last year, but we're 2-0 and have another 20 games to work on it. I'm still convinced we'll narrowly miss the finals this year and be ready to go crazy in 2018.

The turning point had come well before Hogan killed another attacking opportunity by unnecessarily biffing somebody in the goalsquare, but it didn't help and will probably end up with him rubbed out. Not long after they got lucky again, a smother, and a fumble landing with a bloke to kick what was admittedly a ripper of a finish from the boundary to put them in front. The sad trombone music should have played, because every Melbourne fan in the joint was thinking "Jesus Christ, here we go again"


Then Jordan Lewis - who didn't do much for me until his experience came to the fore in the last quarter - biffed somebody as well, and at least if we couldn't beat a Carlton side full of kids and GWS rejects at footy we could beat them up. Lynden Dunn may be gone, but his spirit of nastiness lives on. Meanwhile it's good that the AFL website highlights won't show you every goal but they will show a slow-mo of the Hogan biff and 30 seconds of the post-Lewis jostle. They know what people really want - but not me, give us all the goals or GTFO.

When they went nine points in front I was about to throw myself down the stairs. We were making scoring look as difficult as any time in the past few years and now had to overcome a two goal margin against a team with their tails up. Have we not learned over the last few years that you never let an inferior team get their hopes up? Everyone knows we're flaky, all they need is a sniff and their confidence goes through the roof. Fortunately Garlett got another late to steady the ship and keep us within a goal at the last change.

After another few tentative minutes where we tried to set a world record for uncontested possessions it was Garlett again, starting a chain which went via the very impressive Harmes, to Neal-Bullen and then Watts in the square. His mark had all the hallmarks of 'player stuffs up trying to play-on and kick it immediately' but he settled down, went back and put us in front again. Harmes set up the next as well, in the play twice before Tyson delivered what might have been his first effective kick of the day by gently dinking a kick through the square past a haplessly wrong-footed Carlton defender.

Our lead got out to 14, and that should have been it, but when they kicked a goal to bring it back under 10 with more than five minutes to play we still looked worryingly vulnerable. What more Melbourne-esque way to make things interesting than the notoriously wonky Levi Casboult converting a set shot. Who else was having flashbacks to Joe Daniher finally sinking us last year after missing everything all day?

Then Carlton suddenly spontaneously combusted. You can't help but love a team full of inexperienced players who can't stretch it across four quarters. There was a moment where they stuffed up an attack with a loose kick, and from there we took over. You could see they'd hit the wall, it was just a matter of taking advantage. After all hadn't we fought back in similar fashion - albeit from further behind - against Essendon a year earlier only to collapse for a second time just as we were ready to win? Considering how many players we had that hadn't fired a shot for two quarters it was no surprise that we were ready to run over the top.

The finish came in the sort of way that we'd have lost a game in the past. After we fumbled our way out of what should have been a goal from a crazy Carlton kick across goal, Hogan self-reported that his snap had been touched and made sure everyone was set up to defend the kick-in. My favourite bit was when our fans booed the video review decision even though Hogan had admitted it was touched straight away. That's why for all their faults the league doesn't take supporter whinging about free kicks seriously. It was a better review than the one earlier when they called for the video to confirm whether the ball had been touched after it had cannoned into the post anyway. The Carlton player took off from the kick-in, not realising Garlett was right behind him and was mown down in a perfect tackle - the sort that usually ends in the tackler being penalised for incidental contact with the opponent's back. If that happened we'd have smashed the joint down, but times have changed and Garlett not only got the free but converted the set shot.

Farewell Carlton, and even cheery Brendan Bolton punched something in the coaches' box out of frustration. Nathan Jones whacked on another for emphasis, they didn't score again and we'd gotten away with it. The most important thing is the result, take the four points and cherish them.

2017 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year
5 - Christian Salem
4 - Jeff Garlett
3 - James Harmes
2 - Neville Jetta
1 - Clayton Oliver

Apologies to Gawn, Hunt, Jones, T. McDonald, Stretch and Watts.

Leaderboard
It's a weird leaderboard already, with defenders all over the place and pre-season favourite Viney nowhere to be seen. It would be the first time Jetta has ever been in the lead of this competition, already well on the way towards his previous record season scores of 21 in 2014 and 19 last year.

6 - Neville Jetta (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year), Clayton Oliver
5 - Christian Salem
4 - Jeff Garlett
3 - James Harmes, Nathan Jones
2 - Max Gawn (LEADER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
1 - Jesse Hogan


This feature has had a shot in the arm from teams across the league trying to be clever by introducing shit banter. Yesterday our perfectly conservative, polite and well-designed effort was opposed by one with more visible sticky-tape than a kid's Mother's Day present mocking us for being rich. That's standard behaviour, and we should be happy that we got the best stereotype in the game, but how far have Carlton fallen when the club that got the best player in the game gift-wrapped by a man so loaded his mistress went home with $100 million after his death has been reduced to pretending they're just a common, working class club.

Bonus point to whoever at Carlton signed off the marketing company's idea that suggested the club's one hovercraft was better than all the yachts allegedly owned by our fans. I'd get an accountant to look at that equation. Looking into these things too deeply is the path to madness, but I'd be happy to sell my services as a consultant to sanity check banner slogans across the league. You come up with the 'humour' (or pay somebody else to) and I'll tell you why it scans badly or makes no sense. Dees 2-0 for the regular season.

Matchday Experience Watch
Fortunately still no sign of Match The Emoji, the only promotion ever to be cancelled after one week. Returning from last year were Hogan's Heroes (now firmly entrenched as a replacement for Howie's Hangers) and Run Like A Demon, but thrillingly we've introduced a power ballad as well. Every quarter before the bounce a tune that presumably came from the same people who gave us the Sails On The Bay jingle went "It's time to raise hell!!!" Which was more entertaining - to me at least - than it reads here. Presumably there are no other words and we just bought a jingle. I thought they might have it on the club YouTube channel, but if you think you haven't heard much from them recently that's because our last three uploaded videos were two weeks, three weeks and nine months ago.

Obviously they couldn't work out how to buy the rights to this...


There was also a free Lego giveaway at three-quarter time, which was dangerous considering how angry the crowd were about to be if we kept playing like shit. The first rule of sports marketing - never give away anything that can be thrown - was never tested thanks to the comeback.

Uniform Corner
Still no sponsor on the rear of the jumper. What more do we have to do? Other than finally beat Carlton convincingly. We were back to the all-blue rear again, does this mean the red back variety can be used to avoid having to wear that vile official clash jumper? If so then change as necessary, and let's keep that horrible white thing under wraps.

Crowd Watch
I could tell there was going to be a big crowd from the number of Carlton fans on the train, all clearly hanging on us fucking it up as favourites once again. 46,727 must be the biggest non-special event crowd we've had for a while, and it must have caught the MCC by surprise because as I walked past the members the queues were stretching back into the park. Imagine waiting 20 years to get a start then having to join a line that long? I wandered around to the pleb entrance, walked to a vacant turnstile with nobody in front and scanned in. At least if you're a member you get free access to quality publications.

Veterans of the top of the Ponsford Stand know that it's all about swearing under your breath and kicking seats, not having fun with your friends. Which is why it was so disturbing that a group of people turned up and started chanting like they were at a soccer match. I'm all for alternative varieties of football (as long as it's this one), but that sort of shit doesn't work at an AFL game. It's been tried before, and I'd be surprised if it lasts another week. While I was already having a nervous day watching us struggle against the flotsam of the league I didn't need the wafting noise of people going through the playlist of World's Most Cliched Soccer Chants. One of them was waving an Israeli flag, so maybe it's a front organisation for Joe Gutnick to finally wrest control of the club back 15 years later?

So while in my left ear I could hear people doing a Bi-Lo version of the Viking Clap, I also had the Dolby Digital Stereo experience of two Carlton fans having a particularly anxious afternoon complaining about umpiring. Fair enough too considering the Wheel of Decisions unexpectedly spun in our favour for once, but one of them was so angry that I was expecting him to keel over and collapse onto me. Our last quarter comeback killed off Carlton, the crunts chanting and this guy but not before 3.5 quarters of the most cliched footy fan mutterings possible. I have a plan to go to a game at some point this year and record everything that I and the people around me say, and it was a missed opportunity not doing it yesterday. Not only would you have got a remarkable level of filth from me, but you'd have enjoyed the ambient noise of "HE'S BEEN DOING IT ALL DAY UMP", "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!", "HOW DID HE GET RID OF IT!" and "WHAT ABOUT THE FOUR ONES BEFORE THAT!!!!". He also had a major issue with Dennis Armfield, and not even because Dennis has one of those haircuts like the ladies who have such tight ponytails that it causes nerve damage in their head.

Apparently there was a special bonus attraction for everyone that hung around for kick-to-kick. Kick a fellow supporter apparently.


Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Usually I prefer a violently hit goal that explodes off the boot like a mortar shell, but in this case I'm going to pick Garlett's roller from 40 metres out on the boundary line to start the second quarter. Dinky rollers give me the shits when kicked from close range, but this was as perfect an example of when to do it as you'll get. He wasn't going to get it through on the full from that angle, and perfectly shot it through with enough velocity to make sure no defender could rush it. For the weekly prize he wins dinner with Mick Malthouse to say thank you for allowing him to improve his social standing by joining us.

Next Week
For the first time in history a game at Etihad Stadium is welcome, because otherwise we'd be playing Geelong at Kardinia Park and there'd be no more appropriate place for our perfect streak to come to an end. No matter what happened in Round 1, Docklands is the second most appropriate place and I'm certainly expecting defeat. This is probably a good place to be at 2-0, god help us all we might have suddenly become Docklands specialists and forgot how to play at the MCG and win but otherwise a battling defeat to a presumed top 4 team will set us up nicely for another banana skin against Freo the week after.

Surely Lewis doesn't get suspended for Cripps reacting to a bitchslap like he'd been hit with a shovel but I'm more concerned about Hogan lightly biffing a guy in the head. It didn't cause any damage, but it legitimately put him on his arse and the MRP isn't going to like that. Assuming he gets a week off, which he needs to spend understanding that doing that was no help to anyone.

Other than Vince automatically returning it's hard to even pretend you know what you're talking about with changes when the VFL hasn't started in earnest yet. That competition needs to know its role and get on with things at the same time as the real stuff instead of plodding along a few weeks behind. If Hogan goes I'm going to pick Spencer, because nobody's going to come in and do what Hulk does up field anyway so we may as well get a proper ruckman who's in decent form and can crash a few packs to break space open for Weideman/Garlett/etc...

Controversially I'm going to dump Brayshaw, which is nothing personal because I still rate him highly but like Magner, Tapscott and vandenBerg before him I despise the way they try to use a non-forward on a HFF in some sort of defensive plan that at least to the naked eye never works. I'd rather he goes back to the reserves, plays in the guts and has 40 touches than slowly die trying to get a kick forward. Lucky are Melksham - who finally started to show some of the side-effects of the carpet cleaner Essendon injected him with - and Tyson who will presumably get Brownlow votes because they'll just look at the disposals but was rustier than an old gate.

IN: Spencer, Vince
OUT: Hogan (susp), Brayshaw (omit)
LUCKY: Melksham, Tyson
UNLUCKY: Anyone who played well in a VFL match that I'm not sure actually took place.

Was It Worth It?
There were a few ropey moments where it looked like it would only be worth it to form another chapter in the terrifying list of moments where we've made arseholes of ourselves just as it looked like the #fistedforever era had been banished, but for the last quarter alone I'll give it a pass mark.

Final Thoughts
We started to enjoy ugly wins again in mid-2015, but this elevated it to an artform. It's an important phase in our development, and might have been painful to watch at times but at least we still scored 86. That's better than some of the ugly wins over the last few years where the only way we've found to be competitive is to defend like our lives depended on it and ruin the game as a spectacle. This time we destroyed spectacle and still kicked 13 goals, while it was the other side desperately trying to hold on despite being the worst team on paper.

In the end the right result left us in the top four, so how can you genuinely be upset? Sure it's a false top four also featuring Port Adelaide and Richmond, and if any of us are still there in five months I'll be flabbergasted but it's a perfect start nonetheless. Enjoy it while you can, it's not always going to end this well.

Sunday, 26 March 2017

Awakenings

While many were searching for the instructions to their oven when the fixture landed us against St Kilda at Etihad Stadium in Round 1 I was secretly chuffed. What better opponent and venue than a combination of the two (with apologies to North and Subiaco) that have unmercifully taunted us for a decade? Especially considering it would have been easy to write off as the same old shit if we'd lost. I know we've got a world class reputation for sooking after Round 1 (until 2015 when we started winning every year) but as long as we avoided a humiliating loss there wasn't much potential damage to us. Instead we won handsomely and everyone cancelled whatever they were meant to be doing in September.

Nine years, 11 months and 26 days ago we walked into the MCG an outside premiership contender and left on the road to ruin, now for the love of all that is holy please let it be that we've exited Bizzaro MCG on the road to at least one big, fuck off life-affirming moment of salvation. The two games were so opposite that we even had a great first quarter in 2007 before dying in the arse, while tonight we did our best work in the last three. If the reverse form line holds this should mean we finish top four this year, win two flags in a row, have a couple of down years and then spend a few years unlucky not to be premiers.

After floating through the pre-season games with disinterest and steadfastly refusing to get involved in anything the 17 other clubs were up to the footy bug hit me again during the Friday night Bulldogs/Collingwood game. As the regrettably Lynden Dunn-less Pies peddled furiously while the Dogs went through the motions and just did enough to win the importance of watching your team play an honest to god competitive game for premiership points became clear again. Until yesterday afternoon I didn't even know what time we were playing today, then suddenly 20 hours before our game began I started to feel that crushing sense of dread that you can only get from being a Melbourne fan. Others try to imitate it, but none can duplicate it.

Some of it may have come down to crushing jealously about the Dogs flag. I'm still happy for them, after all I even shelved my usual routine of going for interstate clubs against Victorians so nobody I knew would be happy, but it just struck me that thousands of Dogs fans were watching their team play at last knowing that ultimately it didn't matter a shit if they lost because they'd seen a flag. At least everyone except the poor bastard who had a heart attack halfway through the game and woke up in ICU to discover they'd won. That will happen to me one day, except I'll wake up to discover we've lost and have to be restrained from pulling the plug on myself.

The practice games were nice casual kickarounds now it meant something, even if we had to traipse to the worst place on earth (at least since they closed the rat-infested suburban shitholes) for near inevitable defeat. There was nothing inevitable about it on paper, but the combination of playing that team at that ground made thinking about winning a stretch too far. Last year we had two outings against them there where we had some reasonable times but couldn't maintain it all day and eventually lost comfortably, so dragging it across four quarters wasn't completely out of the question but I just couldn't picture it.

No matter what happened in the end I can see an attraction to the way they play, even if their captain has a mullet and a moustache that makes him look like an extra in a Crimestoppers re-enactment. No wonder we're being pitched against them in the discussion about the next big thing, even though we all know we're just playing for the right to lose four Grand Finals in a row to GWS. Beware - the last time we were in a discussion like this Richmond arrived first, then promptly turned around and came back to Misery Town again. Appropriately we don't play the Saints again under Round 21, probably our last game against a finals contender before finishing against Brisbane and Collingwood, so you've only got to wait just under five months for the shock reverse that costs us our finals hopes.

My struggles to get involved in season 2017 almost came back to haunt me when on Friday morning I started to panic about not being able to get in due to a huge walk-up crowd (or being stuck in a traditional Docklands eight hour queue just to scan my ticket) and thought I'd pay whatever Ticketmaster wanted to reserve my member's ticket. Apparently a day and a half before the game there were no general admission tickets left, but I was welcome to fork out $50 if I really wanted to attend. Bollocks to that. No doubt I'd have found something if I'd kept checking, or would have just been able to walk in to the back row when the gates opened but fortunately one of my many beloved mystery benefactors slung me a free ticket. If it was our match I'd have tried to scan in on my membership anyway, because I really want that Nathan Jones bobblehead doll they're offering if you go to nine home games. It will either form the basis for the statue of him that I'm going to erect when he retires or replace it when the fundraising drive stalls.

My nerves about what was going to happen weren't helped by the fact that the stadium had the humid atmosphere of a greenhouse, and that due to the very un-MFC at Docklands sized crowd I was surrounded by people on all sides. There's probably evidence to suggest the seats are wider than they are at the MCG and I'm just complaining because of confirmation bias but it always feels that the Etihad Stadium version are a lot narrower and more uncomfortable. Even worse when the people next door practically have their sweat dripping onto to you. It was a small price to pay for keeping the roof closed and not going through a first half where players had to shield their eyes from sun randomly covering the ground. Still, at half time I had to go for fresh air before I expired.

If I was disinterested it had nothing on St Kilda, who opted not to do an on-ground warm-up before the bounce and instead entered the arena late and will presumably be fined. Ironically this was just after they ran a rah rah video trying to get people to make donations towards rebuilding Moorabbin. At one point I clearly saw Bernie Vince walk over to the umpires and ask "where are they?" Turns out they were just taking their sweet time, and as much as I was hoping it would backfire on them when we kicked four goals in the first four minutes it was hard to argue with the results at quarter time. Maybe they should have copped three fines and won comfortably?

I didn't think we were going to win, which was psychologically handy when we were playing like tripe at the end of the first quarter. At least I couldn't jump off, because I'd never really been on. All I wanted was a signal that we really are set for at worst comfortable mid-table mediocrity. We've already had proof that we can't have as good a run with injury as last year (and there was more to come) so I was less concerned with Vince, Lewis and even Jones than the players I'm expecting to be the vanguard of our 2019 premiership tilt. At quarter time there was precious little sign of them, and we simply looked like the same terrified side who would have moments of sublime magic but spent the rest of the game trying to make the ball somebody else's problem. From there the Clayton Oliver superhero era began, and very little went wrong after that.

Conceding the first goal of the season within 90 seconds was no great concern, at least this year it didn't come from our best fiend $cully. While we weren't necessarily playing badly in the first few minutes before the Saints avalanche came we were falling victim to their manic pressure, leading to all sorts of horrible dinky little handballs that put teammates under pressure. A classic Garlett goal where hung out the back and stormed in with nobody around him restored the lead, but there were already concerning signs. I wasn't much enamoured with Jordan Lewis early, he wasn't bad by any stretch of the imagination but didn't seem to be handling their pressure well. I'm pleased to report that he ended up playing a really good game, it probably took him a bit to adjust to not playing alongside multi-time premiership stars and considering we paid practically zero for him it will be hard for that deal not to pay off in spades.

The other half of the new recruits (via a year on the couch) Jake Melksham wasn't bad. He had a few iffy moments but probably provided more than you would have got from Grimes in the same role. Obviously with our defence dropping like flies he's not going to be under any real selection pressure any time soon, and will do for now but doesn't really strike me as the sort of player who'll be in the side every week if we ever put together a serious bash at the top four. As always more than happy to be proven wrong, and he's welcome to lift up his jumper to reveal a t-shirt abusing me on the Grand Final dais when I hopefully get this wrong. I won't see it, I'll be on out the back with paramedics performing CPR.

After an even first 15 minutes where neither side looked like kicking a big score the fun started courtesy of who else but Riewoldt. I still haven't recovered from that extravaganza of aerobic capacity last year where he ran our entire backline big and small into the ground, now here he was cropping up for multiple first quarter goals again. Once he retires we'll beat this lot every time. He must have been fuming in those years when Beau Wilkes/Maister would clean us up, it would have cost Riewoldt about 35 career goals.

The most underrated player on the field was, as always, Neville Jetta. This has to be the year where other clubs and the media finally realise how good Nifty is. He was almighty in defence again, especially in the first half, getting us out of plenty of tight spots. Is he still one concussion away from retirement? Because I don't think I can live without him. For now I could easily live without Oscar McDonald, who is lucky being a backman at Melbourne this year has a higher fatality rate than climbing Mt Everest because he definitely needs extra seasoning at Casey. His brother unloads a few howlers that make him a whipping boy for people who have moved on from Jack Watts but the good far outweighs the bad. At the moment Oscar is reasonably good in the contest and in the air but his disposal fills me with terror. I'm in no way writing him off for the future, and realise that if Senior is injured then he'll practically be in charge of the defence, but I'm not ready to fully embrace him yet.

I was thrilled that Joel Smith was picked after a promising pre-season (and we can always do with further proof that we've gone beyond the nightmare father/son era of Chris Johnson and Michael Clark), and he was playing really well until he necked himself. Or more accurately until Riewoldt necked him - proving that he doesn't have to kick goals to cause pain. Unfortunately the way he blew his shoulder to shreds he won't be seen for a while but I'm reasonably confident in him being a good long term prospect. That wasn't much good to us here, and copping one of the great arsey goals of recent times didn't help my mood.

Earlier in the quarter a Saints player had seen the ball sit up in front of him and decided to just whack buggery out of it from mid-air and it was fantastic because it narrowly missed, now less so was the ball almost rolling out of bounds and the player who kept it in running on to get a handball in the square, then tapping it to himself, gathering it running away from goal and kicking over his head. Even better than it happened in the last 30 seconds of the quarter after we'd spent 10 minutes being plugged from arsehole to elbow. At four goals behind my excitement levels were wavering, but if nothing else I was back in my most comfortable place with completely deflated expectations.

You wouldn't know it from the AFL website video - and at least unlike Thursday night it's working - but Jack Watts kicked the first goal of the second quarter to keep us alive. They'll write a dozen articles speculating about his place in the side, but his goals can't even make the highlight reel. How can any goals miss out? As a Melbourne fan you might not always have been sure in recent years, but isn't that what we're paying to watch? Fortunately when he marked 20 metres out he resisted the temptation to try a dinky handball over the top to either of the players running towards goal, because the way we were going we all know how that would have turned out. It's even smarter to go back and take the kick when he's the best set shot in the team. We'd already suffered a fiasco where Lewis had tried the old Paul Wheatley handoff (later successfully executed by Gawn/Vince) with Jayden Hunt only for the ball to spill loose, the last thing we needed was to blow another chance trying to be cute.

The first comeback didn't last long, who else but Riewoldt trotting into an open goal when the ball dropped into his hands after a marking contest. With one defender gone and the Saints rattling through easy goals like they were playing Melbourne Classic I was nearly tempted to curl up under the seat and have a cry when it was revealed that Gawn was in the rooms having his back looked at. With not much more information than that I pictured him in traction for six weeks. This would obviously be a long-term disaster, but more importantly in the short term would have left Watts as the only ruckman in our side part-time or otherwise. He battles gamely when he does it, but we can't rely on that for more than a few minutes at a time.

Then Gawn re-emerged, bouncing off the ropes like Rocky mounting his triumphant comeback against Clubber Lang and beating the holy bejesus out of the Saints for the next three quarters with nary a hint of trouble from his Shagger's Back. The ban on third man up - which I admit to not having once thought about all day while busy howling in glee/anger at the umpires ignoring holding the ball in both directions - would have benefited him, and it probably helped that the umpire was throwing the ball up in the middle due to the turf being shite after an Adele concert. Lucky she got in before this game so I could still use the gag about breaking our record for depressing the largest crowd at Etihad Stadium.

At four goals down again I was feeling seedy, before the super impressive Mitch Hannan delivered lightning crumb so quick that the ball bobbled around in his hands before he could get it to boot. He kicked the goal, and a bloody nice one it was too, but it was created by Hogan's forward pressure as he tormented a St Kilda defender. Maybe it's that winning at Docklands feeling but I really felt like he was one of us today. Poor bastard.

Like so many times under Roos it took until we were staring down the barrel before we threw caution to the wind and started playing freely. In an earlier post I did an analysis of all the times we went at least four goals down before launching a comeback when he was coach, and it was a ridiculous amount with as bad a winning strike rate as you'd expect. The issue was always that we'd clatter on a few goals and look irresistible for 15 minutes then get nervy again the moment we got close. To prove that we just may be at the start of something big we went on with it this time.

It helped that the Saints disappeared off the face of the earth. The team who'd brutalised us in the first quarter could now barely get near us as we played keepings off. Until this point I'd thought we could have got more out of Spencer as a forward than Weideman, but you couldn't argue with the violence and venom of his kick on the run for the goal that reduced the margin to less than 18. He'd barely received the handball from Jones when he absolutely crushed it through from 40 metres. Still wasn't crazy about him overall today, but you sense that as he gains experience he's going to unleash hell in a couple of seasons. Now that we've won we may as well persist with him next week and see what he can do against the Blues. Last year he did chuff all against them, but I'm still grumpy that they even played him in the wet.

Improbably before you knew it we were in front after Jetta was clotheslined had won a free kick for being clotheslined. He took the set shot well for somebody who used to be a forward but hasn't kicked more than one in a season since 2011. We weren't playing all that well, it was just that St Kilda had died in the steamy atmosphere. The Saints didn't do any of the light speed slingshot shit they stitched us up with x2 in 2016, and they didn't have much of a chance when we wouldn't give them the ball. We took this to ridiculous levels in the last couple of minutes, if you didn't see the game and are judging performances on stats alone it's best to reduce the disposals of anyone in our defence by about 10% to compensate for their festival of side-to-side dink in the last two minutes.

After Hogan took a contested pack mark to extend the lead to eight (and if he's going to add massive grabs to throwing defenders out of the way in one-on-one contests then I'm going to go into a glee coma before Queen's Birthday) we tried to run out 120 seconds by lobbing the ball back and forth. It was a reasonably sound idea, after six goals in a row the last thing we wanted to do was concede one but of course 120 seconds of effective disposal was well beyond us. We got away with it, ironically after one more chance to attack courtesy of our mistake giving the ball to the Saints, who made a mistake of their own, and half time could comfortably be spent wondering what in god's name we'd just seen and whether it was sustainable.

I fully expected St Kilda to regroup, come out playing like the first quarter and be back in front within five minutes, but no. New recipe Melbourne just kept going, with Hannan pulling off another piece of crumb that must have made Dean Kent tense up and realise he might be heading towards Cranbourne next week. Hannan was great, after all he was a last start Etihad Stadium winner in the VFL Grand Final which is more than you could say for all the players we had appearing for Casey that day, where have we been hiding him all pre-season? Was it a calculated ruse to keep him out under the guise of his off-season shoulder surgery (and missing teeth) so we could unexpectedly spring him here? We did that two years ago with Brayshaw, and it worked well there too. Next thing Garlett's crumbing front and square off the pack and we're almost five goals in front after five minutes of the second half.

While a realistic person would have thought "great, we've got heaps of time to do them slowly" I was thinking "oh shit, this is leaving too long for a comeback". Because I'm neurotic. We were a player down, it was so humid that steam was about to rise from the turf like the gates of hell were located directly underneath the ground and the only reason our shaky backline wasn't causing trouble was because we wouldn't give St Kilda the ball. Damn right I was still worried. When Brayshaw got another I relaxed a bit, before Riewoldt managed to finally deliver a steadier at the other end by flukily shinning the ball through.

My nerves were calmed, not for good but at least temporarily, by a remarkable Christian Petracca set shot. Him learning to kick these has been the highlight of the season so far, and this was a special. Reminiscent of Jake Spencer on debut against North in 2009 he dropped the ball cold on his run-up, but unlike that day the umpire didn't call play on so he just scooped it up, continued his run-in and slammed it home from 50 metres out before taking off in celebration.

At 34 points in front at the start of the last quarter it was one of those scenarios where if we were behind I'd be convinced we'd lose (and we would), but because we were in front I was sweating like I was on trial. If we had to tick off one of our key cliches by conceding a goal immediately after kicking one due to the emergency ruckman being in the middle it had to be a Hogan goal that was wasted. It usually is. No wonder he's started to play some centre bounces now, he's buying insurance against them stuffing up his hard work while Gawn is on the bench. This time he was nowhere to be seen, the Saints won the centre clearance and were in a few seconds later.

After lowering his colours twice against St Kilda last year and breaking even at best in the first quarter here Gawn proceeded to give his midfielders one of the great armchair rides. It wasn't Jamar/Moloney vs Adelaide, but only because there were so many more options. At one point 50% of his 40 something hitouts had been to advantage. Many - if not most - of these were going to Clayton Oliver, who rebounded from an ineffectual four touch first quarter to drag St Kilda around for the next three like one of those bags you mop fake clay tennis courts with. By the end he had 36 touches, including 14 contested and nine clearances. But while raw stats are fun the Hamburglar story is nothing without watching him, the number of his 27 handballs that were either performed in confined spaces or shot off so quickly that you wouldn't think he even had time to realise it was going to a teammate was absurd. We already knew we were onto one here, so let's see how he goes now that the rest of the league will start paying close attention. I expect he'll just carry on wrecking people. Go back and watch the over-the-head handball to Jones that delivered the goal at the end of the third quarter. Either he got very lucky that the captain was in the right place at the right time or is a dead set genius. I'm backing the latter.

The reply to the wasted Hogan goal kicked off a purple patch for the Saints, who were rapidly running out of time but it also seemed we were rapidly running out of leg. Lucky they couldn't kick straight, eventually allowing the surprisingly impressive Alex Neal-Bullen to boot the sealer. After being as keen as mustard on Anal-Bullet last year I'd gone off him in the pre-season and admit to complaining when he was picked, but he did really well. It's an added bonus that he's got goal sense and he does remind me a bit of a more robust Cale Morton. One good game is all you need to win me back.

Usually I wouldn't have a bar of opposition players, but given that we'd comfortably sewn the game up it was sad to see Riewoldt go down like a sack of spuds like he'd done his knee late in the quarter. There are players here and there that I enjoy watching, but other than ex-Melbournians who I still pine for (💖 you Stefan) the only two players who I really cared for from other clubs are/were Pavlich and Riewoldt. Is it any wonder that I'd have a thing for them, both 300 game titans who carried their club to within touching distance of glory and will be amongst the greatest players their sides ever produce but never won a premiership. That's a story Melbourne fans can relate to - except we usually can't shepherd people through 200 games let alone 300. I'm bitter that he beats the shit out of us every time, but that's more towards us for letting it happen. I dream of a home grown player still carrying his team on his back at 34. Speaking of his back, I hope the pre-match 'light entertainment' segment where he carried a comedian around wasn't to blame for his later woes.

The second sealer came via another Petracca set shot immediately after Riewoldt was carted off, and we could spend the last few minutes drenched in sweat and joy. For the first time since Adem Yze kicked the sealer in the 2006 Elimination Final and I yelled "Fuck you!" in the face of the St Kilda fan behind me we had toppled the Saints. Plenty of water has gone under the bridge since then - followed by several senior coaches. It's hard to keep up with St Kilda but I think they've been shit, great, shit and good again since then. We've been shit, ok for a little bit, horrendous and ok again. Now to get Subiaco - which only has one year left - and North - which would probably only have one year left if they played like we did to wreck all the hoodoos. Once that's done let's petition the AFL to have a heritage round game at Football Park and try to knock that off as well.

Jordan Lewis must have been secretly bitter about having to go through the cliched first win Gatorade shower after 250 games and four premierships. Better than not going through it because we lost, but he was a good sport and didn't tell them to get stuffed then hide in a utility closet to avoid it. My abiding memory of James Sellar will always be when he heroically declined to participate on the night we beat Essendon in 2013. I enjoyed Joel Smith taking part even with his arm in a sling, unable to properly shield his eyes and probably now suffering permanent damage to his retina as well as his shoulder.

Surely all this excitement must have convinced a sponsor to fork out megabucks and put their name on the excessively red back of our jumper. Rumour has it we'd turned back several suitors because we had a big money deal ready to go only for that company to pull out at the last minute. I don't know whether that means we're renegotiating with the others or whether they've told us to do one, but it just goes to prove that you can take us out of the #fistedforever decade but you can't stop all the horror. It would have helped if we'd made it to the back pages of the newspaper tomorrow but I suppose the Bombers' big win has stuffed that up. Never mind, we're here we're proud and we're not leaving the eight for a few weeks at least.

Stat My Bitch Up
Congratulations to Neville Jetta and Jack Watts, who rid themselves of 0-15 and 0-16 records at Docklands respectively. Jack has made up for missing the GWS win when we all thought he was about to go into Paul Roos' office and dramatically slap in a trade request. I wonder if that would have been captured on the same sort of pervy hidden camera they use to film kids being told they're playing their first game.

As our beloved stalwart of the dark days, Nathan Jones also holds a rancid record at the place. He's now 3-26 there since his first start in Round 18, 2006. When our finals hopes were damaged by suffering a shock loss to a rock bottom Carlton. But of course there's no relevance to modern history there.

2017 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year
5 - Clayton Oliver
4 - Neville Jetta (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
3 - Nathan Jones
2 - Max Gawn (LEADER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
1 - Jesse Hogan

Apologies to most, but especially Lewis, Hannan and Hunt. Also Vince, Stretch and Neal-Bullen.


The downside of the 'humorous' Bulldogs banners being involved in a premiership is that suddenly everyone thinks they're a comedian. There's urban legend that Carlton paid a marketing company to come up with this sack of shite, wasting money that could have been spent engaging our cheersquad as consultants on how to stick a letter on straight, now the Saints have attempted a bit of light hearted japery which suggested we hadn't won at Etihad Stadium since the presidency of George W Bush.
They're not the only organisation who refuse to acknowledge the Round 23, 2015 win over Greater Western Sydney. An AFL website match report suggested it was our "first win at Etihad Stadium since August 2007". It has become the Australian equivalent of the Americans who are convinced they've seen a movie that doesn't exist, people just cannot process that it happened.

I remember it well, not only for a rare win (and in case you're still sceptical here's video proof. We do not believe this was faked in a Hollywood studio) but because the following Monday morning I was attempting to watch the replay of the last quarter while carrying a bowl of Sultana Bran over a fence to stop my kid running out of the loungeroom, got my foot caught on the way over, lobbed the bowl halfway across the room and ended up lying amidst splinters and twisted wood on the living room floor. As I prepare to leave Demonblog Towers IX and hit double figures (or as it's counted in roman numerals, single figures) there's still time to suffer another major MFC related injury to go alongside that and the time I fell down the stairs while browsing Twitter for footy content.

What I will say for the St Kilda banner is that by selling the rights to an iced coffee company (I would rather drink lye), professionally printing it and engaging the biggest rent-a-crowd in footballing history to help get it aloft they took huge steps forward in design. For the last few years they have had the worst banners in the league, even behind when GWS used to inexplicably use a 0 instead of an O like they were cutting ransom notes out of a newspaper, but now they've taken a step on font and design if not quality of slogans. The Saints cheersquad has written in to assure me that everyone on-field was a paid up member, which I can only accept as correct, but then tried to play up the bit about GWB being about games against them, which is the worst piece of damage control since the incident with Jordan De Goey's dog. The actual writer of the banner subsequently contacted us to suggest it was supposed to say "last time they beat us" so god only knows what the real story is.
On the other hand we put in a solid effort, nothing over the top but just enough to do the job without making fools of ourselves. After dual pre-season disasters where the thing toppled over it was good to get a solid warm-up done for bigger and better things to come. The day we get into misplaced attempts at 'banter' for the sort of people who yell things out at tennis matches or introduce a curtain is the day I retire this feature. 1-0 Dees for the main season, and 2-2 including the pre-season games.

I feel that the 'raise hell' tag line the club is going with this year could lead to some real fire and brimstone old time religion slogans, leading to anarchy of biblical proportions. I've got no interest in ecumenical matters but it would shit on trying to force a comedy routine into four lines. Failing that, go for the Stone Cold Steve Austin option.


Crowd Watch
There were good signs right from the start, for all the mud I've slung at Etihad Stadium they've introduced a simple innovation which is destined to make my life easier. There are now lines where a stadium attendant will hand scan your ticket. Never again will you have to stand behind some gibbon who doesn't understand that the ticket shaped hole in the gate is where you put the barcode on your ticket. For once take note MCG, this is the wave of the future. It may cost more but customer satisfaction will go through the roof.

After Etihad had done such an efficient job of getting people into the ground it was lucky there was anybody left for the first bounce after St Kilda's pre-match entertainment package. This sort of stuff is like being a politician, people will always look favourably on their own side and think everything the other side puts out is shit but did we really need multiple renditions of the maudlin version of their theme song that sounds as if it should be played while a coffin is being lowered into a grave? To try and lift the mood after having us all reach for the anti-depressants they tried to lure their fans into community singing by piping in realistic sounding atmosphere. Nobody showed much interest until half-heartedly clapping along at the end, and I won't be taking any shit from St Kilda fans about the trumpeteer after that. When the Saints didn't bother to come out for the warm-up the person on the buttons shit themselves and played it again, exposing to anyone who'd been roped in the first time that it was all recorded. There would be a significant crossover between people who thought that was real and people who are roped into Nigerian email scams.

Any tension I have with St Kilda, and to be fair it pretty much all went away when they drew that Grand Final due to a novelty bounce then got flogged in the Lionel Richie replay, stems directly from sitting next to an insane cheersquad in the '98 finals who got a bit racial and thought there was nothing wrong with Barry Hall assaulting a Febey brother. Today there was none of that, and the absolute worst any of the St Kilda fans sitting around me could muster was a half-hearted, deflated "Jesse is a girls' name HUR HUR HUR" in the last quarter. Get that man a job writing banners immediately.

Either the Saints faithful were broken hearted at handing over their most cherished winning streak or like me they were all about to die from heat stress. Maybe it was because I unexpectedly found myself sitting near the fence on the bottom level (and can probably be seen chewing my fingernails during a boundary throw-in), with such a high class of people that even the lady who reads the Channel 7 weather was there. I'd love to say she spent the whole day swearing her head off and issuing random threats to boundary umpires but sadly not.

Also suffering in the humidity were all forms of telecommunications. I missed an entire half of post-goal checks of Dees Twitter swinging to distress to glee and all points in between. It's almost understandable that the 4G network faltered as 40,000 people rushed to their phone simultaneously to write us off, but considering how far out of their way Etihad went to talk up their awesome Wi-Fi network it would have helped if it worked for the entire first half. All I wanted to do was browse the stats and/or check the Sydney/Port score, both issues which could have been solved if they did updates on the screen. Another win for fan experience, but at least it meant I couldn't make a Rex Hunt of myself with premature adjudication about our season.

One thing you always get at Etihad which you don't at the MCG is close brushes with the stars. All mine were with ruckmen, first standing back like the gentleman I am to allow Lachlan (oddly styled as "Lochie" in the season guide - I'm not sure how you get "Loch" out of "Lach" but it's his name so he can do what he likes with it) Filipovic to walk through the crowd, then after the game seeing people mobbing The Spencil to celebrate with him. In classic Spencer style he just sort of looked baffled, but I can report his microphone hair looks even better up close than on TV.

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Always nice to start the season with a raft of contenders. As tempted as I am to pick Petracca's set shot where he dropped the ball then casually scooped the it up and bombed it home I'm going to have to opt for Hannan's second piece of delightful crumb at the start of the third quarter, where he scooped the loose ball bouncing off the pack and almost threw it on his boot in a single movement before snapping around the corner. Bonus points for being the 'steadier' we needed after half time to convince everyone, players and fans alike, that we could go on with it.

Next Week
It's Carlton again, in the marquee timeslot of 3.20pm on Sunday. Good for networks who need a lead-in to the news, shithouse for those of us who like to get the footy over as early as possible and get back to our more rewarding non footy lives. All signs point to us shellacking them, except our recent record against shithouse sides - including Carlton in 2015 and 2016. It could be argued that both those games were at the end of the year when everyone was physically and/or mentally shot, and that we should have no trouble dismissing them even on two days less break and an afternoon playing in Darwin-esque humidity.

So why am I shitting bricks? It's just beyond comprehension that we could be 2-0, especially when you consider how bad we've been in second rounds recently. For those of you who missed it in the pre-season here's the recent tale of woe that we're battling:
  • 2008 - lost by 95
  • 2009 - lost by 53
  • 2010 - lose on a dropped mark in the square with a second left
  • 2011 - turned 19 point half-time lead into a 45 point loss
  • 2012 - lost by 108
  • 2013 - lost by 148
  • 2014 - lost by 93
  • 2015 - turned five goal lead into 56 point loss
  • 2016 - backed up a top Round 1 win by losing to the Essendon Reserves.
All of which means chuff all to what's likely to happen next week, but it does explain why I'm so nervous.

It can't be a good thing when the loss of a first gamer exposes your wafer-thin backline depth, but I struggle to see any direct replacement for Smith. Any of Frost, Hibberd, Wagner or Garland would have been a chance if they hadn't done themselves a varying degree of mischief. Not even really comfortable fielding Sizzle Jr at the moment, but we're just going to have to wear that and hope for the best given the lack of alternatives.

Frost was listed as a 'test' this week so he's probably the best option, but I'm going to assume he won't play and opt for Pedersen. He might not even be required to play the whole game in defence considering how few forwards Carlton have and is a marginally better ruck option than Watts. And if god forbid we do need a defender and he's not working out we can send Watts down there and play Pedersen forward.

The dominance of the midfield is terrible news for Tyson, who will have to wait his turn. I can't find a spot for Kent either, but it shouldn't be too long before somebody is injured or suspended. Incidentally there was a moment where Milkshake made reasonable front-on contact with an opponent. He wasn't hurt, but did hilariously punt the resulting free kick straight on the full. Looked like nothing more than a fine at the absolute worst, but Match Review Panel Lotto will probably put him out for 4-6 weeks. Vince also clobbered somebody in the back of the head, failing to hold off so he could be reported in Round 3 for the fourth year in a row, and could be in trouble. I suppose it's only fair if he goes down, considering at one point he got away with one of the most illegal disposals ever right in front of the umpire. If he's out perhaps bring Tyson in and use Salem in his role?

Meanwhile, if there's anything suspect about Gawn's back they have to play Spencer. We can't risk  a have-a-go fill-in ruckman playing the majority of the game against a side who are generally no good but killed us off quickly last time by dominating the centre. So, after all that it's one change and for the love of god can we please turn up in the first quarter this time?

IN: Pedersen
OUT: Smith (inj)
LUCKY: Weideman, O. McDonald
UNLUCKY: Spencer, Tyson, Kent

Was It Worth It?
By the end I was left looking like a raver in a field at 4am, sweating like Iggy Pop and with a tightly clenched jaw but a sense of euphoria and love for mankind. You're damn right it was worth it, and I hope those of you who couldn't be bothered didn't make it to the GWS game but were there today enjoyed the feeling of lifting a monkey off your back and hurling it into the sea.



Final Thoughts
Like a game of 10 Pin Bowling where you throw a strike in the first frame and briefly wonder if you might roll 300, there was a moment in the afterglow where I wondered if we might actually make the eight. That's as far as my optimism goes, and even that was most likely down to dehydration. There's a lot of ups and downs to come in the next 21 weeks, but the best thing to do to start convincing me that the glorious future is real would be to win comfortably next week. See you back in the same place next Sunday night for bitterness and recrimination.