Everybody Hurts

Please note: This image is provided for novelty purposes only. I don't want to tell Nathan Jones it's over, I want to warmly embrace him and ensure that he's never allowed to escape the crushing weight of a club that often disappoints.

Last night we had more chance of beating the Tamil Tigers than the Richmond Tigers, so we'll get back to on-field performance later, let's start by focusing on the human toll of defeat.

My thoughts and prayers are with the club's Chief Financial Officer, who will have to be restrained from putting his head in the Chief Financial Oven. Imagine the glee at the start of the year when we were given back-to-back home games against the biggest clubs in Victoria (piss off Essendon) during what promised to be an exciting finals race, only for the team to crash to earth like a poisoned pigeon, all the MCG car parks to shut and for it to rain. And who knows what what happen next Saturday. Lucky we can't afford to have the gas on.

That 37,000 still turned up to see a soggy battle of titans vs minnows is a testament to the human spirit. Also to Richmond fans wanting a calm night at the footy and a guaranteed win. Our supporters voted with their feet, either staying away in droves or hiding in the bar all night to drink themselves into a coma. One of our loyalists won a fancy car but the way this season's going she probably wrapped it around a tree on the way home.

The focus of the week was Nathan Jones, the greatest warrior of the modern era, whose career (with us?) is sliding to an undignified end. You can't get too upset about reports of contract negotiations going poorly given it was leaked by interested parties for maximum impact at a time where fans are ready to punch on about anything, but it's undeniable that after nearly a decade of warrior-like performances he's beginning to go gently into the good night.

He's no more of a liability that Lewis or Vince were when they started sliding so there's definitely a year left in him but the end is nigh. There was the odd patch of beauty last night - e.g. the pass to Fritsch inside 50 during the first quarter - but it's clear they don't want him in the midfield anymore and he's only just going while playing behind the ball. Even as our forward line drops one-by-one there's no interest in giving him a go up there so I'm not surprised they're only offering a one year contract. I choose to assume that offering him KFC wages was just the starting point for negotiations and that once the parties stop leaking to the press against each other they'll find a happy medium that allows Chunk to finish his career with us and go out with his human rights intact.

I understand the circle of footballing life and wouldn't hand out a two year contract just because he's beloved (not without triggers weighted towards the club anyway), but the idea that we've either run out of money or are going to in the next couple of years is concerning. Imagine this doesn't go well and Jones exits seeing Lever and May getting enormous money to play about 10 games in two years. That's the kind of scenario that ends in ill feeling.

Morally it's comparable to James McDonald's messy departure, but realistically there's a big difference in where the respective Melbourne sides are at - and not just because we're 3.5 wins behind 2010. Then we were shovelling the last of the older 2004-2006 era players out the door at speed in the hope that we could stack the side with kids and win everything. This time we don't have kids, and if you give me the option between another year for Lewis or Jones then I'm backing self-interest over premierships. Surely we can't axe both our over 30s in one ageist swoop. If so, watch your back Neville Jetta because you're next.

Obviously I'm driven purely by sentiment. It's hard not to be when Jones arguably holds the most tragic record of any league footballer ever. Six men have seen more losses, but all have played least 40 games more, two won flags and another a Brownlow. Spiritually Jones is of the same ilk as early St Kilda players Ted Hall and Bill Matthews, who went 1-72 and 2-78 respectively. At least Jones has made a dollar out of the game, Bill and Ted's Shithouse Adventure would have been for the love of the game before they went back to working in a mercury factory on Monday morning.

So count me in for the Save Jones faction, but not blindly so. If there's no compromise on the length of the deal and they won't take triggers beyond one season I'm not going to handcuff myself to a goalpost. Of course you'd ask for two years but after everything he's been through then surely he'd be accepting of one more. If not let him go to Gold Coast (if they're interested) and I'll knife anyone who boos him. If this sad turn of events does unfold it would be nice if his 300th game fell in Victoria and I could go any pay tribute. Alternatively, if he lands at a club that's even the remotest chance of winning the flag I'll be going for them to win the lot.

Anyway, there was a footy game last night. Not one worthy of taking up too much of your time discussing. We didn't get close enough to become emotionally invested and didn't lose by enough against a good team (albeit one miles down on their best form) to get angry about. It was just another box ticked in the absurdly extended 2020 pre-season. I snapped when we rolled over in the last few minutes against the Saints, this was just greeted with resignation like the six goal losses of the Neeld/Craig and early Roos eras.

Though a defensive shambles led to us conceding the first goal and we always looked like a rubber band stretched to its full elasticity and ready to snap, there was a surprise early lead. Lewis used his years of cunning to milk a free kick in front of goal, Corey Wagner did one of the best crumb jobs of the season (by our players anyway), and Jones dropped a perfect pass on Fritsch inside 50 for a three goal to one lead. This was unexpected, but I'd been roped in by the first quarter of a Melbourne/Richmond game once this year and we kicked two goals for the rest of the game so wasn't getting prematurely excited.

The Tigers were being violently dragged down to our level but it still always felt like they were seconds from finishing us off. They got there in the end, not with a struggle but by sheer class winning out against industrial strength slop. It helped them to have a big name Gold Coast recruit who was able to play and a genuine multi-discipline superstar like Dustin Martin. Plus about 15 other players who would walk straight into our team at the moment. Many of them would also come in handy the movable feast of misery that is our best 22.

On the other hand we'd be lucky if Richmond took anyone other than Gawn based on last night's performances. If they were smart they'd use Fritsch as a forward, but otherwise not many would be attractive to a top four side. Which is sad because if you think about we're still technically one for the next few weeks. Everybody loves Oliver but he had plenty of touches that were either flubbed or had little impact, Harmes battled, and Frost did 25% fun things and played like an escaped mental patient the rest of the time. I think the Tiges would happily stick with what they've got.

One of the few reasons I went out of my way to get to this game was to see Preuss play live at least once this season, and oh my wasn't that an experience. The two ruckmen experiment plumbed new depths but I'm still going to come to his defence and ask why in the name of Dutch buggery they didn't take him out of the side when it became clear there would be rain. Fair enough on Thursday night you need a replacement for the permanently injured Tim Smith and don't trust the long range forecast, but by 5pm Saturday I'm sure the radar gave a fair indication of what was heading towards the MCG.

Anal-Bullet has had a cow of a season but if we were in any way interested in having a go at winning (and I'm not convinced we were) bringing him in would have been a much safer bet. I'm all for protecting Max at this stage of the year but Petty can jump, let him do the remainder of the ruckwork. Last year I saw Harmes contest a centre bounce and we got a goal out of it, give him another go. The midfield had enough trouble getting to Gawn's silver service taps, what was it going to matter if we lost the ruck battles? Might have even prompted them to go at the contest a bit harder.

Instead after one VFL game where he didn't even play as a forward we reintroduced a guy who has been smashing records for dropping uncontested marks and sent him out to play in the rain. Negligent is a strong word but if you were going to launch Tankquiry 2019 you'd ask questions about this. Maybe they told ANB he was going to be playing and he sprinted off down Brunton Avenue in terror?

When Old Moustache Lips butterfingered everything that came near him in the dry it was clear the situation wasn't going to improve post-precipitation. When not clutching onto an opponent for dear life he was decent enough at tapping the ball but couldn't take an overhead mark for shit and was beyond useless at ground level. At one stage just after the rain stopped there was a high kick towards him in defence and I involuntarily yelped in fear watching him sit under it because I knew what was coming next. Somehow we escaped without conceding a goal.

The evening was also one in the eye for Preuss fanatics like me who have said "at least he's a good ruckman" as he gave away multiple frees for jostling in ruck contests. They weren't even "that's ruckcraft big boy" style spins of the Wheel of Umpiring, he was just clamping on and hoping nobody noticed what I could see from Row MM. Plenty of time to get him going but at this stage he's nowhere near our forward line in 2020. If we can use our rapidly diminishing salary cap room to find a forward who can ruck respectability I say buy him.

The difference between your garden variety ruckman and Maximum is that Gawn not only excels at ruckmanly activities, he is also a rock solid pack mark and kicks the ball better than some of our much shorter players. This is probably why more than once somebody panicked and handballed to him in traffic, including deep in defence. He's good but that's extracting bucket loads of piss. Max worked his arse off to be in position to chop off Richmond attacks and was yet again our most influential player. He is an absolute general and I'm firming on him as captain next year. That's too unorthodox a move for us and the best I can hope for is a joint ticket with Viney.

Like Preuss, Oscar McDonald was only in the side because our first choice wasn't available and we've got less depth than a fish pond. He was also cruelly exposed. Since winning our last Rising Star nomination in Round 20, 2016 we've run through the gamut of his career from highly promising, to serviceable, to struggling, to a pre-season in the middle of the year, to not being league standard. There's no doubt he tries hard but he's just miles off it, torched on the lead every time the ball went inside Richmond's 50 and unloading some ridiculous attempts at clearing kicks.

Compare him Frost, who did zany things like kicking torps from the last line of defence in the wet but always tries to keep things moving forward. Hibberd too, who had his best game of the year. Frost also did another power handball - the new most thrilling move in football. This time instead of it arcing across to a teammate it went straight at them from a few metres away, risking ripping his mate's hands off like he's been in an industrial accident.

When Lever, who is like a Frost that cost shitloads but doesn't do funny things, landed awkwardly and hobbled off I thought it was another blown knee and was about to self-harm accordingly. Not that he's played all that well since returning but it would be nice to work towards something positive without it being interrupted by personal tragedy.

It was even more on brand for us in season 2019 that the ball was only at that end of the ground for him to be hurt thanks to a blunder by Preuss. People want us to go out and sign the stars from around the league but why would anyone want to join us when you consider the various misfortunes and career malfunctions that have befallen almost every import for the last few years. With a record like this I can't see why they're not queuing up at airports around the country to join us.

• Mitch Clark - crocked
• David Rodan - crocked
• Shannon Byrnes - did an ok job, avoided serious injury and got a job out of it
• Chris Dawes - sank like a stone
• Cameron Pedersen - did reasonably well considering
• Viv Michie - nothing
• Dom Tyson - burned bright for a year then plateaued
• Bernie Vince - ok this one was good
• Daniel Cross - this one too
• Aidan Riley - one blockbuster tackle, not much else
• Jeff Garlett - started well, good value given the price
• Heritier Lumumba - crocked
• Sam Frost - the greatest survivor
• Jake Melksham - worked by accident when we got him to be a defender
• Ben Kennedy - career fizzed out
• Ben Newton - his too
• Tom Bugg - on and off, forever to be remembered for belting somebody
• Michael Hibberd - this worked too, get more Essendon players
• Pat McKenna - crocked
• Harley Balic - mentally exhausted
• Jake Lever - crocked
• Kade Kolodjashnij - crocked
• Steven May - crocked

At half time I was having a hard time finding five players who'd be in the frame for votes but we were still only three points behind. If the Pakistani cricket team was involved you'd suggest the handbrake was on for nefarious purposes but it was simply that Richmond's players had no interest in exerting themselves against such non-threatening opposition. Like last week we had the odd burst of form but generally didn't do anything that would help us beat a quality team. Which is why, unlike St Kilda, Richmond put us away well before the last 15 minutes.

The term 'bruise free' is overused but I don't understand how we can end a game played a quarter in soaking rain and still have eight players - including both captains - without a tackle. In the first six weeks of the season combined we had five players with zero tackles, since then the arse has fallen out a bit and we're up to an average of 2.5 a week. Last night - eight in a game with one quarter of solid rain. Somewhere Steve Hocking was absolutely flogging himself with joy.

At half time it started pissing down. Usually sheeting rain and a Scooby Doo Mysteries style fog descending on the ground would help reduce the gap between a good team and strugglers. In this case we went from competitive to splashing around like Eric the Eel in a match race against Kristin Otto. The Tigers were walking on water while we were busy botching everything like... well, like it was dry. Mainly because we didn't bother to adapt to the wet, carrying on like normal and hoping for the best. It was not to be, and over the next 30 minutes Richmond humanely euthanised us without the need to get blood on their hands.

Given that we've barely won a game in the wet for 15 years (Adelaide 2018, Vardy vs Freo in 2004 and ?) there was more chance of peace in the Middle East than us recovering from even that slender margin. When Frost's NQR torp came back for a goal in the opening minutes I thought there was a landslide coming our way. Our final jolt of resistance came from a well-constructed goal by Lewis, who jostled his opponent out of the way to get goal-side then did a half arsed bicycle kick that reduced the margin to less than a goal again. I can't believe he got his leg to do that without the hammies shredding. For all intents and purposes that was it, there weren't many more non-umpire assisted goals for the rest of the game.

The end came swiftly after Preuss was bamboozled by a short throw in, allowing his opponent to dash forward and toe poke a goal off the ground. What a long death spiral his season has been in since he took advantage of a similar situation at the SCG and made me go all gooey at the knees. It was one of four surprise goals, along with one thumping kick with a wet ball and two beautifully taken set shots from obscure angles nearly 50 metres out. This is what good teams do. This is not what Melbourne does. We also don't do defending set shots on the goal line, which would have certainly saved one of them from going through.

By the last change we were five goals down and sinking fast. I thought they may have spotted our lack of interest in a tough contest and built their percentage by treating us cruelly, but no they'd had enough too. I can't figure out who pulled the handbrake but either way it allowed us to escape without being vivisected.

Can't think any neutrals were left watching by the point Harrison Petty - who will be a weapon if he adds set shots to his big marking - was lightly punched in the tit and sold it like he'd been attacked with a chainsaw. That helped us score 60, which wasn't bad considering we only got 42 against Richmond in better conditions first time around. Other than being thrashed there was a lack of positives that didn't involve either Gawn or Fritsch. Kyle Dunkley kicked two nice set shots but there wasn't much else going on. Stopping a team from booting away was scant consolation for yet another loss.

There was something for fans of fringe players. Corey Wagner's disposals were iffy but more than once he (legally) interfered in a marking contest to allow a teammate to grab it. That's the sort of thing nobody's going to pick up if they just look at the stats but made a big difference to marking contests we'd have otherwise lost.

JFK wasn't terrible, and certainly knew how to find the ball but suffered from the Melbourne Disease of trying to kick it as far away as quickly as possible without looking where it was going. He'll make decent money playing at a lower level when this is over but is stuck in the fatal ditch between VFL and AFL standard.

I liked what Baker did. He didn't have four quarters in him but hit a couple of good passes and it was nice to see somebody tearing up and down the wing at pace. Must play the last three games for development purposes.

Conversely, there wasn't much for fans of Christian Petracca, who disappeared without a trace. He's alleged to have had 20 touches but I think the Champion Data computer must have been on the fritz. Brayshaw was very poor. He struggled to get a touch, and when he did they weren't any good. What I will say is that he tried to make up for this with defence, leading our otherwise shithouse tackle count. Still not much to say for a #3 draft pick who threatened bigger and better things next year but I appreciate the effort.

Defeat by any margin came to the unrestrained joy of many supporters, who are satisfied that there's now little chance of passing Carlton and our consolation prize for this dreadful season will be pick two. Nevertheless did last night not provide the strongest possible example that we can't pull off Machiavellian schemes when it comes to getting players?

Friday was the 10 year anniversary of the Jordan McMahon fiasco, a result celebrated like a flag by many supporters only for us to pick one rat, and one good bloke who was slower than a wet week and had a foot that cracked like fine china. Pick 3 in that draft, who we'd no doubt have overlooked anyway because he was a bit of rough is a genuine superstar who cleaned our clock last night. No doubt if we'd drafted him Martin would have become the next Ben Cousins in every aspect other than the football but it's nice to imagine finding a talent so natural that even we couldn't ruin it. Forget a draft lottery, the draft is a lottery. I hope we trade down to picks 119, 120 and 121.

2019 Allen Jakovich Medal votes

5 - Max Gawn
4 - Bayley Fritsch
3 - Michael Hibberd
2 - Clayton Oliver
1 - Jordan Lewis

Apologies to Frost, Harmes, Viney, Dunkley or Wagner who might have snatched one in the general melee for last spot. Wouldn't have deserved it but if we only gave these out when players earned them there would have been some sad looking leaderboards over the years.

Leaderboard
With 15 votes left to play and Harmes eliminated from contention it's officially down to a two man race. For the second week in a row Maximum has not only sandbagged his lead on the Hamburglar but marginally extended it, leaving him in a near unbeatable position. No change in the minors, with Hore to be declared provisional winner if Lockhart doesn't get votes next week.

49 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
41 - Clayton Oliver
--- Abandon all hope ye below here ---
31 - James Harmes
27 - Christian Salem (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
17 - Jack Viney
14 - Jake Melksham
13 - Angus Brayshaw, Christian Petracca
11 - Marty Hore (LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)
10 - Steven May
9 - Bayley Fritsch, Nathan Jones
8 - Jayden Hunt
6 - Sam Frost, Jay Lockhart
5 - Michael Hibberd
4 - Tom McDonald, Billy Stretch
2 - Harrison Petty, Corey Wagner
1 - Jordan Lewis

Crowd Watch (incorporating Matchday Experience Watch)
The next big thing is letting people scan memberships on their mobile phones. That they had to display instructions telling people to turn the brightness up before scanning suggests a long, frustrating future of being stuck behind dickheads who can't work out the process.

Otherwise I have no crowd insights. They didn't sit near me, I didn't sit near them and we were probably all richer for it. Also richer is the lady that won the car via one of the most dignity free spectacles you're ever likely to see, a quarter time waving of placards so fierce it could have prompted an epileptic fit.

I've seen enough of these promotions over the years to know you're wasting your time and energy if you're a) not sitting at ground level, b) follow the away team, or c) are in the MCC Members. Doesn't stop people from giving it a red hot go. Even when the camera zoomed on where the car would be going and two potential winners began furious jostling there were still Richmond fans in the top of the Ponsford waving so hard they risked damaging a tendon. The cosmic payback for all the people on ground level who gave themselves a chance of winning the car by sitting on ground level were pissed on from a great height and had to bolt for cover.

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year

In the week where we celebrate Allen Jakovich's much loved scissor kick against North in '91, it was appropriate that Jordan Lewis joined in with a low velocity cover version from the goal line. Goals out of nowhere are my weakness, and he did so well here that I thought for a second maybe he could fill this job next year. Then I came to my senses. It was a lovely finish and the free he milked earlier was expertly rorted but let's not doing anything silly based on a few zero intensity end of season losses.

Jordan Lewis! What a finish! 🙌#AFLDeesTigers pic.twitter.com/0kX08j5FTJ

— AFL (@AFL) August 3, 2019

Jordan's weekly prize is a lifetime supply of synthetic barnet touch up paint. Even with the Jako tribute it doesn't go close to toppling Marty Hore's bright shining moment at Carrara.

While Richmond had the always popular caricature of a milestone player the font they use is so offensive I can't possibly declare them the winner. It's even worse than when that bloke in their cheersquad turned up for the Anzac commemorations dressed like he was going to a Bucks' Night. Ours was fine, just good enough to win. Suffice to say the Demon Army are also keen to get through the next three weeks and have a much needed rest. Dees 18-1-0 for the season.

If you go back through the archives you'll notice that the scoring for this competition goes up and down like the proverbial. You'd think it would be easy to subtract one draw from the number of rounds played and know how many wins we've had, but apparently not. Let's be serious, even with the near miss last week unless somebody shows up to a solemn event dressed like they're going to a Birdman Rally it's always going to end 21-1-0 at the end of the year.

Next Week
After doing far better than expected against both the Eagles and Richmond I can feel a looming thumping. Collingwood has beaten Gold Coast comfortably and will pick up the bottom of the ladder spare by mercilessly rooting us. Set your clock for a Mason Cox revival where he just stands at the top of the square and converts eight of their 112 inside 50s simply by raising his arms and catching the ball unchallenged. The worst thing is that I'm duty bound to go because I'll 100% miss being at the Sydney game and would rather go to Baghdad than Bellerive so this will be my final in person game for the season. How about something uplifting to go out on? Probably not.

As for changes, there's almost nothing at Casey to work with. The entirety of the AFL listed players in their loss yesterday was Bradtke (project player), Keilty (soon to be delisted player), Hore (soon to be promoted player), Bedford, Chandler, Jordon (kids), Lockhart, Stretch and Josh Wagner. By the look of the stats only Hore made a serious case for promotion, so if May is fit they come back in for Oscar and Preuss.

Two defenders for a one and a ruckman isn't like-for-like but what does that matter now? The way this game will go I reckon the more defenders on field the better. If he's fit May is obvious and Hore should have already been in the side as a replacement for Jetta so they'll do. Hore's best period of the season was when Nifty was out so it was a bonkers decision not to pick him this week - especially with rain in the forecast.

If Lever isn't fit then just pick a name from the remaining players out of a hat. Otherwise no point in doing anything radical just yet, especially given that none of the kids is bashing the door down for a game. Maybe just pick them all for the last two weeks. Unnecessarily introducing a shitload of kids on a Friday night, what could possibly go wrong?

IN: Hore, May
OUT: McDonald, Preuss (omit)
LUCKY: Almost everyone
UNLUCKY: All fit players on the list.

Next Year
Here's an exercise, do your best 22 for next season based entirely on players we've got now and work out how many of them you trust to help us get back to 2018 levels of competitiveness. I couldn't even get to 22 players I was confident having in the side let alone excelling. What in the world is going on?

Was it worth it?
Other than the chance to go to the MCG, even less so than last week. I suppose I'm meant to be happy that we stuck with them for a half but at this stage of the season am struggling to muster up the enthusiasm for anything other than its end. If the pattern of 2007-2017 is repeated I'll spend the finals being bitter and twisted, thankful that it's all over, then by the second week of October will be fanging for the next season to start. I thought going back to shift work would cure me of my obsessive compulsion with this organisation. Apparently not. Might move to North Korea.

Final thoughts
Could very easily have stayed at home gone to bed immediately after the final siren and got on with my life. But noooo I rearranged my life to be there, safe in the knowledge that we were going to lose somewhere between comfortably and heavily. What a dickhead.

You'll never walk again

For about five minutes on Saturday night we were on the verge of saving football from itself. Leading Australian rules theorists Gil McLachlan and Steve Hocking were in attendance, but not even those serial seekers of change could argue against the entertainment value of our first three goals. Before the Saints had gone forward once we'd launched a series of lightning strikes reminiscent of early German victories during the invasion of Russia. Like that campaign we didn't put the opposition away, leaving them time to regroup, turn it into a war of attrition and send us home in tatters.

By the end I was ready to wave the white flag and let the AFL do whatever they like with the rules. If they can find a way to make a game between two sides this bad look like the 1989 Grand Final I will nominate them jointly for Australian of the Year. Maybe if it turned into an AFLX style pinball wankfest where every game ended 152-146 we'd fall arse backwards into success. It would be hollow to finally win once the game was entirely stripped of its essence but as I enter the stage of my life where I'm patiently waiting for my first heart attack quantity is becoming more important than quality.

Considering the game took place under a roof and with every natural element that might affect skills removed it had an argument for the worst spectacle I've ever seen. The theory that there aren't enough good players to go across 18 teams got a huge boost. Except that we were no good when there were 12, 15, 16 or 17 teams either. However, between the introduction of West Coast/Brisbane and Adelaide we made finals every year, so 14 could be the magic number. It's just a matter of not being one of the four clubs to get the arse to make that happen.

Speaking of 14, that was how many more points the sides put on above the season average, thus making the the game a better value contest for selling ads than one between good teams that finishes with both sides in the 60s. I wonder if that compensate for people turning off in droves after seeing 19 consecutive turnovers.

When multi-billion TV rights deals are successfully renegotiated, let the record show we facilitated two more airings of that QLED ad. You know the one, where the guy supporting Generic Blue Team does the worst fake supporting since John Howard greeted a penalty in the 2006 World Cup by leaping to his feet like he'd just seen a 30 yard piledriver into the top corner of the net. I'm pleased we can provide joy to long suffering TV executives, because after nearly five months of trying not to drop my bundle I'm feeling violated.

After half seriously challenging the mid-table Bulldogs and premiership contender Eagles this was the decider for me. Either we built on the positives from those performances or we gifted victory to a team we were perceived to have rocketed past at the end of last year. It was the latter. Not without a fight, but a pretty low grade one. Like those videos where cruel people pay a couple of winos to throw haymakers at each other in a parking lot.

It was obviously too much to ask for when our forward line includes a 300 game player running down the clock and a converted defender out of necessity but I had this sick fantasy about running riot and kicking a (relatively) massive score. This was based on nothing except blind hope. Like waking up one morning after months marooned on a desert island and thinking "today is definitely the day I'm going to be rescued". At the end of the day you're still sitting there on your own talking to a volleyball.

Nevertheless, even if a big win was beyond us I still thought we'd something worth leaving the house for. I didn't even get to fulfil my fantasy of seeing Braydon Preuss play live for the first time, and now things that were worth treasuring last year like the disco blue jumper and playing at Docklands have been discredited by their association with this contest.

Actual victory meant little but I still craved it, partly as a reaction against the tremendous success of caretaker coaches in 2019. My theory that the benefits of sacking a coach are not sustainable for more than a couple of weeks is in trouble. Maybe this is another football idea that has been poisoned by following Melbourne - Hutchison, Riley, Viney and Craig won eight games between them; Shaw, Teague and Ratten have more than that since Round 11.

Like a roulette player who is convinced a colour has to come up because it hasn't for a while I thought we'd be the ones to nuke the caretaker fairytale. Nothing personal against Brett Ratten, after his fondly remembered stint as midfield coach in 2004 I wish we'd found a way for him to replace Neale Daniher in 2007 or that Carlton unnecessarily sacked him earlier so we could have had him post-186. It could have been Shaw, Teague or Alan McConnell for all I cared, I just wanted to play spoiler.

In the end St Kilda fans went home with the horn and I was the one slinking out of the stadium with my hope for the future hanging by a thread. Literally anything could happen but I don't see how May, Melksham and McDonald (Triple M) alone propel this team back to where it finished last year. The coaches are either going to have to wrench significant improvement out of the players we've got or pull off canny recruiting moves to fill gaping holes and address the ticking time bombs. That I've got more faith in the short term future of our backline than midfield is obscene considering how last year we were practically on our knees thanking the football gods for delivering us an untold bounty in the middle of the ground.

Of course there is the school of thought that you shouldn't draw comparisons with 2018 because our month of glory that started and ended in Perth was nothing more than a middle of the road team getting on an unsustainable run before crashing back to earth. There's something to that, if you look at the losses in the second half of that year you'll see many of the hallmarks of the 2019 troubles. Throw in a raft of injuries and the rest of the league working out exactly what we were going to do from Round 1.

After this weekend I've gone off Goodwin. There was enough of a side on the park last tonight to beat the rag-tag collection of off-cuts, kids and people with none-more-MFC names like Doulton Langlands. If we'd just gone down for a lack of tall forwards I'd have almost understood, but the shambolic skills on offer, and the way we spurned an armchair ride by the best ruckman in the competition was deplorable. He can throw a couple of assistant coaches in the sea at the end of the year, but it's been more than three months since he wanted to be judged on current performance rather than blaming our troubled off-season, and under that criteria I declare it a failure.

This is not to say I want to commit ritual sacrifice and fire him on the spot. After a week of trying to patiently explain to people why we can't just shut the NT deal off without completing rooting the club's finances (see also $2.8 million going with the pokies) I can't justify paying out three years of somebody's contract just because we've had a single, nightmarish season. On the other hand, scrounging for cash to pay off the last two years could be tempting if we're at anywhere near this level of chaos in 12 months.

For now I'm not happy, but I will give him the benefit of a hard reset at the end of the season. New assistants, new recruits, a step back from the cult of contested possessions, and then let's judge a coach in his fourth year with (we hope) a trouble-free run into the pre-season.

Of course, the coach can only do so much. He can't kick the ball for them when they're hestitant, or tell players not to handball straight to their opposition inside 50. For all the piss taken out of Casey Fields as a venue to develop players, this game took place in an environment that couldn't have been more conducive to football and we had 8/22 players with disposal efficiencies of 60% or less. Consider how many were dinky one metre handballs to a teammate (whether they wanted it or not) and weep silently about how badly we played. If you saw the game you don't need the numbers to tell the story, it probably seems surprising that only eight players registered a percentage so low.

The whole thing was just dire. You can't expect much out of a Round 19 battle between also-rans and plummeters but the contest was nearly comical at times, with both teams desperately trying to give the ball to each other. One of our key issues is players trying to make the ball somebody else's responsibility but in this case we cranked that up a notch, regularly bypassing teammates and letting the Saints have the ball to see if they'd kick to one of ours in a better position.

It was like there was a gentleman's agreement to keep the scores close by any means necessary until halfway through the last quarter then may the best team win. That team was not us. With the game in the balance our fuse fizzed and we couldn't go with a team moved to knife the coach two weeks earlier because his side was not only losing but being boring as batshit in the process. Now the dead cat was bouncing like a ball off the concrete Docklands surface, showering the losers with shit as it arced over their heads.

For all the times we've been blown out of the water in a first quarter I've also seen the old kick a few goals before the other side show up then lose scenario a few times. Even then, the game that came to mind as Petracca hit a lovely corkscrew kick from a pack to make it 18-1 was (trigger warning for Jake Lever) the Bulldogs game we won from the same position last year. It came under different circumstances, mostly that we'd just spent five weeks wiping the floor with terrible sides and scoring an average of 133 a week, but same idea - one team has everything go their way for a few minutes, does well to capitalise, then falls to bits when the other side get a kick.

That day we recovered, and behind a gargantuan effort by Nifty Nev held Footscray to four goals for the rest of the match. This time a team only going slightly better than us got an opportunistic win against opposition going like a busted arse.

Whoever played Fools Gold by the Stone Roses before the bounce had the right idea. Not only was it the closest a footy ground has ever come to my all time ARIA Top 40 chart, but what more appropriate tune for an audience of fans who haven't seen a flag since well before man landed on the moon. Music to take drugs in a field to was far more appropriate than giving away Grand Final tickets in the half time quiz, which at a St Kilda/Melbourne game was about as insensitive as spraying asbestos into a cancer ward.

All three of our opening goals were attractive in their own way. First Viney banging a perfect kick to the lead of Fritsch, who couldn't maintain the level of his goalscoring heroics from last week but must not be taken out of the forward line for the rest of the year. Then Petracca running an opponent under the ball and taking advantage of it squirming out of his opponent's hands to set up Lewis, who nearly stuffed up a point blank snap by taking an hour to put the ball on his boot, before completing his hat-trick of involvement in all three by kicking his pearler off a step for 3-0. He couldn't stretch it across three quarters, but apart from Gawn who could? In an all-around distressing exhibition of the sport I was happy enough with how long he strung it out.

Things were looking up. Just like they were in the first quarter against Port (18-1), Richmond (24-13), Gold Coast (20-7), Adelaide (39-24) and Carlton (22-0). You will note that we lost the first four in that list. Conversely, of our five victories we've been behind in the first quarter against Hawthorn (15-29), Freo (13-25), Sydney (34-20), only leading Carlton, and Gold Coast who are the new University. The Stranglewank has been an insider gag for years but is there seriously something wrong with this lot that means they only focus when faced with adversity? I can only imagine how the club psychologist is going. You know when a big truck breaks down and they have to bring in an even bigger truck to rescue it? Like that.

Then St Kilda turned up and we recoiled in fear for 20 minutes. Both teams were doing a series of things Jeffrey Dahlmer would consider horrendous but the Saints were the ones (eventually) capitalising. From the total domination of the opening minutes it now looked like boys chasing slightly bigger boys trying to get a kick. The only reason their run of goals didn't stretch past three is that they're no good either. Perhaps like last week we needed to concede more before waking up. Recovering with a pair of Reverse DemonTime goals through Fritsch - courtesy of a smart handball from Petty - and Smith with a crashing park mark and a perfectly taken set shot - was welcome but created a false sense of security.

The Smith mark was a thing of beauty. What I don't understand is how for the other 99% of the game he barely got in position to jump at a ball coming inside 50. And god knows we put it down there enough. I'd love to sit with a coach and review this game to understand whether it was St Kilda's defence, where he was running to or where we were kicking. He's more than capable of playing as a forward, and should certainly stay on the list next year, but like Weideman just needs to find himself where the ball is more often. Or we need to find them. Either way the next midfield and forward coaches need to spend more time with each other over summer than their families. I'd say give the jobs to a married couple but by the time they're finished it will end in divorce court.

All the emotion poured out in the last 15 minutes, but the second quarter was arguably our worse. The midfield is the only part of our team that hasn't been decimated by injuries this year and they were squashed unrecognisably flat for half an hour. Even with that advantage, and the ball living down their end for the first few minutes St Kilda were equally slapstick and let us get the first goal. What a goal it was too, with Corey Wagner's neat finish the only thing saving the whole thing from having the Benny Hill music slapped under it.

First we saw a kick to the unnatural drugs vs unnatural hair duel of Jake Carlisle vs Jordan Lewis, and because Lewis isn't a key forward and shouldn't be asked to become at this stage of his career he ran straight into Carlisle's back. It was one of the clearest free kicks you'll ever see but consider it payback for that one Gawn was swizzed out of last week. Then Petracca did everything to shimmy and dance through a pair of defenders before deciding the third one was a bridge too far and handballed into the ground. He got another chance when a defender did a ludicrous high, looping pass to a teammate with Truck ready to pounce on him, before he turned it over to Wagner for the snap and goal that restored our 19 point lead.

Turning a clear breakaway from the centre into a shambling goal like that should have been the wake-up call that we weren't going to put the Saints away easily. Then we conceded the reply within a minute, failed to score for the rest of the quarter and somehow led by three points at half time. It's a funny old world. Some say cutting down on the impact of runners has hurt the game. I agree, if they're only allowed out there after a goal how are you supposed to drag everybody who deserves to be dragged? Mind you, we'd have needed an XL bench to remove everyone who needed dragging.

Anyone seen a promising youngster recently? It's almost three years since our last Rising Star nomination, and even Oscar McDonald has watched his career go up in smoke since. With respect to Bayley Fritsch missing eligibility by less than a month we haven't even had anyone hard done by since. There was a one-eyed move to get Charlie Spargo a start last year but like wondering who's going to win the flag that was nothing more than an attempt to stay involved in a competition that has no relevance to us.

I think we managed 15 rotations in one go during the first quarter when there was a malfunction at the junction at our bench, leading to players going on and off at a rapid rate and nobody having any idea what they were supposed to be doing. It was the same level of organisational disarray that saw Gawn arrive late for a centre bounce, fail to escape the square in time and give away a free. Later Harmes took so lining up for a set shot that he was called to play on and flubbed the kick. In some ways this is a professional sporting organisation.

Amongst a handful of players who have provided genuine excitement this year, the high octane insanity of Sam Frost has been memorable. He was in full effect here, doing his usual tribute to extreme sports by marking strongly, dashing off like a gazelle, thumping one of the most powerful handballs I've ever seen to a teammate then later dinking another one directly to the opposition, and falling over in front of goal. Relative to the number of his teammates who were dreadful he was still very good. Long live the lunacy. It will probably cost us as many goals as it saves but at least it's exciting.

The same cannot be said for Oscar McDonald. Who I feel bad for because people have been piling into him like he parks in the disabled spot, but I think after 72 games that it might be time to come to a mutual agreement that the situation isn't going to get any better. He's only 23 so it feels premature folding the cards on a career but if you're going to have zero attacking impact on a game you best be able to defend like a madman and he does not. Our other defenders make mistakes trying to take the game on and set up play, he gets the ball and waits as long as humanely possible before disposing, leaving every option up the field to be blanketed while they wait for him to get rid of it.

With one more year to play on his contract we probably should keep him just in case, but I want to be clear that I'd rather Petty go back into defence first if required. It's a shame Preuss was so bad last week because otherwise May's latest injury would have been a perfect opportunity to send Harrison back to where he's meant to be and park a gigantic bald man at full forward. I've been satisfied with Petty's forward play the last three weeks but surely that's nothing more than an enforced late season move and a potential emergency switch within games, not our long term plan to kick winning scores.

The midfield was located in time for the third quarter, which helped even though we couldn't string more than two kicks together without turning it over. St Kilda kicked 13 goals from intercept possessions, which is an indictment on everyone from our side. We were turning it over forward, back and centre and the Demon Trampoline was in full effect. Whenever we did one of our aimless, panicked kicks forward it would be turned straight over and whoomp there it was, down the other end within seconds.

When we took a relieving mark the next passage of play would either involve a hopeful long kick down the line, usually aimed at Gawn, a boundary throw-in or a shambolic turnover. Frost was the usual potent mix of good and bad, Lever rose above his Docklands PTSD to start well but kick like his ACL was still torn by the end, and Salem had a shocker. It's hard to have a barometer when you're usually rubbish, but if he's giving the ball up regularly you know we're in trouble. The more I think about it I reckon the Saints laid a perfect trap and we walked right into it blindfolded. For all the sour comments about them not being much better than us there is not even the remotest doubt in my mind that they were better prepared, wanted to win more and it would have been robbery if we'd got up.

The quarter was notable for the sudden appearance of Tim Membrey, who kicked three goals. There's a bit of Kingsley talk about him, but I can't with good faith induct somebody who's kicked five goals half a dozen times but only once against us. The good news is that the Kingsleys are open source so you're free to add him to your list.

It was starting to look grim, and maybe I wouldn't have gone off so much if we'd just died on the spot there and lost by six goals. Thanks first to James Harmes for two goals (about the only kicks he had on target), Petracca for intelligently making the most of a ground ball to soccer it through from a pack, and the combination of Jake Carlisle and an umpire - one who lightly touched Harrison Petty around the face during some jostling and the other who got overly excited and gifted us a double goal.

This was the second time Carlisle had been victimised and Saints fans were getting a bit of a persecution complex about the umpiring by this stage. Bad luck. Try playing in the Melbourne backline and discover what disappointment is really about. Of course, after that metaphorical and literal free kick we proceeded to give the goal - and the lead - back instantly. I was still calm and vowing not to get excited no matter where the result landed. That lasted about 15 minutes.

When Oliver kicked the first goal of the last we were back in front, then Harmes added another and it started to look like the big steal was on. But if you steal something worthless is it still theft? We lost and regained the lead once more before giving it away for good. It was all over when we conceded a high tackle to somebody who brought the contact on himself trying to shake himself out of a tackle (to be fair it was hard to complain about the decisions at this stage) and surrender followed shortly after.

If he weren't such a jovial man with a firm devotion to the team ethos and hopefully the 2020 captain, Max Gawn would have walked off at this point. He'd worked his guts out all night but found there wasn't 21 fully operating hearts to go around the rest of the side when it mattered. Not since Nathan Jones 2012/13 has somebody carried so many teammates atop his shoulders only to have them piss down his back

Speaking of Jones, I have grave concerns for his future. He's still contributing, but it's like when you're a kid and you realise for the first time that a beloved grandparent has passed the point of no return. One day they still seem full of life, then they slowly begin to lose it, and next thing you know they're being discovered sprawled across the living room floor in a pool of piss.

I still don't understand why we're seemingly locked into playing him behind the ball. First Vince, now Lewis - it's becoming the new MFC retirement lounge. Give the man a chance to kick goals, he's been pretty bloody good at it over the years, and the way we attack nobody will be able to tell the difference if he makes a meal of the job. He'll likely be there next year but I won't be able to stand seeing him with the football equivalent of tubes up his nose and will want to smother him with a pillow to end the suffering. There is legitimate talk that it would be good for him to join Gold Coast and help prop up their stocks for a year. Looking at it dispassionately they may be right, but I could actually cry if it happens.

Meanwhile, after he's spent the best part of a decade being the face of our shortcomings did we really need to send him on the Sunday morning misery circuit? Any other leaders who could be wheeled out to run through the old cliches and give poor Jonesy a break?

Cohesion and continuity are keys for Melbourne to arrest their slide, says Nathan Jones #GameDay pic.twitter.com/ZiXVyHKAhX

— 7AFL (@7AFL) July 28, 2019

After being so keen to burst St Kilda's bubble before the game I was strangely calm when it sat at under a goal the difference midway through the quarter. By this point I was resigned to losing another thriller and realised that it wouldn't bother me. No matter what happened - kicks after the siren, time keeping fiascos, Gawn being pinched for another howling decision in the square with 0.01 left - I wasn't going to leave upset. Then we capitulated like the sad old slappers we are and I was left like this:



We had contributed to such a bottom four game that I wasn't going home with joy in my heart even if we won. It would have been a good night for the players to choose not to sing the song if it came to that. When we were still ahead was pondering if I'd ever seen a worse victory, but would have been satisfied to see us lose while fighting to the death. Instead we just rolled over and died, letting a nothing team barely operating in a forward direction (which is preferable to the way we're going) dominate us for the last five minutes.

Funny the games that set you off. As bad as we were I was quite happy to continue my propaganda campaign about the extended 2020 pre-season, but the last few minutes turned my temperature up to the point where I was ready to blow. And if that's what it takes to get a flag I will.

Usually it's when you get within a kick and lose a close one that a vein in the forehead pops and you make a cockhead of yourself in public but this was the exact opposite, The further we went behind the more I wanted to denounce everyone and throw myself down the stairs. Thank god the crowd was so spread out that the only people within hearing range were also sad, loner middle-aged male Melbourne fans so they didn't care about hearing all the big hitters being wheeled out.

The four points can piss off, it had nothing to do with that, it was seeing safe as houses and fringe players alike lay down their guns. Like Hawthorn and North Melbourne, St Kilda owned our soul for the best part of a decade, now after three wins in two seasons we've gone back to them treating us with contempt while they whirr around lower mid-table for the rest for eternity winning as many flags as us. Which is a number somewhere between -1 and 1.

At the siren the downtrodden Saints fans who'd seen seven wins since Round 1 went bananas like they'd just seen something significant. You're free to celebrate win in any way you like, but I'd have thought this was best handled with a quick fist pump, possibly staying for one round of the song (but not singing it), then going home happy to have seen a win, not blowing your lid like you've beaten anyone good.

So, now that we're a game and percentage behind Carlton with four weeks to play it's definitely a 17th placed finish. Tell me more about the TAC Cup prodigy who's going to instantly rescue us and make everything better. Or what package of riches we're going to get by trading it.

That is if we ever get the pick. You read it here first, but the stars are aligning perfectly for the AFL to give Gold Coast a priority pick at #2. Chances are they're going to lose 18 in a row to end the season, and the team directly above them is coming off a Preliminary Final. So, the argument will be that we've got a strong enough list not to be disadvantaged by going back from #2 to #3. And what are we going to do? Crack the sads with an organisation that could crush us like a bug?

What might save us is Adelaide hitting the roof about the future traded pick they've got coming from Carlton being devalued. We can only hope. Until it turns out that pick 2 is no good and pick 3 wins three Brownlows for the Crows.

In fact, fuck the draft. Let's trade the picks to Dr Phil Nietzschke and end our suffering now. What about retrospectively merging with Hawthorn? They can be called the Hawthorn Hawks, play out of Dingley, wear toilet colours and retain their existing club song. And I can break away from this disastrously addictive 30 year odyssey of waiting for the Melbourne Football Club (1859-2019) to win anything.

2019 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Max Gawn
--- By a tremendous distance only measurable by NASA telescope ---
4 - Christian Petracca
3 - Clayton Oliver
2 - Sam Frost
--- Major struggle ---
1 - Jayden Hunt

Apologies of sorts to Viney and Petty, neither of who deserved a vote but could have got the last one in a raffle.

Leaderboard
This is where life is unfair. If the voting system was about splitting 15 votes between as many players as deserved them, Max would have got 13 and two others one apiece. Now, his reward for playing a lone hand game is almost entirely negated by Oliver bobbing up in third. What it does is knocks out Viney, all but finish off Salem and clears out a near terminal gap to Harmes, but we're still not much closer to discovering the overall winner.

You may deduce that I think Maximum winning would be a wonderfully romantic result, but I can assure you that the integrity of this award is of the utmost importance and no electoral shenanigans will be entered into. If Oliver legitimately outpolls him by five votes from here then he'll win the award for a third time, but I will not waver from the task of assigning votes almost purely on the vibe.

No alterations in the Hilton standings, though Lockhart's dismissal to Casey was excellent news for Marty Hore, who is just hanging on. A reminder that under the current rules anyone who debuts from next week to the end of the season remains eligible to win the award next year. In 2020/2021 there will be a rule change so anyone who starts the season on four games or less is eligible. I don't think that would have altered any previous winners but I've got a whole off-season to work that out.

44 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
39 - Clayton Oliver
31 - James Harmes
27 - Christian Salem (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
--- Abandon all hope ye below here ---
17 - Jack Viney
14 - Jake Melksham
13 - Angus Brayshaw, Christian Petracca
11 - Marty Hore (LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)
10 - Steven May
9 - Nathan Jones
8 - Jayden Hunt
6 - Sam Frost, Jay Lockhart
5 - Bayley Fritsch
4 - Tom McDonald, Billy Stretch
2 - Michael Hibberd, Harrison Petty, Corey Wagner

Matchday Experience Watch (incorporating Crowd Watch)
From the turn of the century to when they got dicked in that drawn Grand Final I had a tremendous vendetta against St Kilda based entirely on sitting next to their cheersquad in the '98 finals. I say this because I want you to know that I'm over it and hold no more ill-will against them than any of the other 17 clubs BUT the Saints put on the chintziest, cringe-inducing, community theatre level matchday program of any Victorian club bar none. I don't know what the interstate clubs are doing, but I guarantee you it has to be better than this.

I once worked with a guy who came to a brainstorm session for a 3000 person Christmas party and suggested it be held "at the Casino". He then said we should book Spiderman to make an appearance, and when met with a mystified silence asked rhetorically "wouldn't it be great if we could get Chris Judd to come?" I reckon he's gone on to run St Kilda's promotion department.

I'm not here to suggest there's anything highbrow about dickheads in overalls spinning around paint cans then trying to kick a goal, and we all remember the one week Match the Emoji disaster, but this lot are off their face. They're also desperate to relate every piece of imagery back to the suburb of St Kilda despite fleeing the joint in 1964. Ex-Junction Oval tenants Fitzroy and us have a more recent claim to shots of people drinking coffees and waves crashing on beaches. The Saints should be forced to concentrate on iconic visions of the south east suburbs such as IKEA Springvale, dogging along the foreshore and home invasions.

They've given up on piping in a mournful, funeral version of Oh When the Saints Go Marching In and expecting the fans to engage in community singing like they're at a Port Adelaide game. Instead somebody's gone on a junket to an American college football game and has come back with the idea of a marching band. Oh christ.

It could have almost worked if it was done in the spirit of New Orleans, but instead looked like some Community Cup style hipsters playing a brass version of Kool and the Gang's Celebration in front of 7500 disinterested people. They marched about 100 metres around the boundary line, stopped and disappeared. I will never EVER take any shit for having one bloke on a trumpet again.

There was also some dreadfully acted comedy sponsor spot featuring Leigh Montagna and Seb Ross who was HA! HA! lost and trying to HEE! HEE! find his way to the ground. They had to restart it once because somebody hit play too early and it was interrupted by the marching band, meaning we saw Montagna's intro a second time and could appreciate that it was so wooden you could make a table out of it. Surely that was a one off and they don't play the whole package before every home game. If not, no wonder people were angry and the coach had to cop it in the neck.

The Saints cannot be blamed for something called 'Simba Cam', which the stadium used as an excuse to highlight people holding kids who looked far too young to be at a 7.20pm bounce footy match. It was all going cutely until one bloke who was clearly in an upper deck of the stadium was shown lifting his child up and thrusting it forward to the point where one bump and junior would have been doing his Jeremy Howe impersonation on the seats below. Instead of quickly moving on and saving the child's life they lingered for about 10 horrifying seconds. We assume the kid is ok but would like the Department of Human Services to drop in and make sure. They've also subjected a kid to following St Kilda, which is about as negligent and abusive as making them go for Melbourne.

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year

The game's pinnacle came with Petracca's inside out slice kick off a step to go three goals to nil up. It was beautifully hit, and just the sort of goal out of nowhere that we don't see often enough. For the weekly prize he wins the trade to Port Adelaide - the new Richmond for trying in vain to find happiness with our exes - which we're going to do in three years anyway.

I also enjoyed his toe poke goal in the third quarter, another win for creating a goal out of nothing. Please do not take this as an endorsement of playing him as a deep 50 forward again. He's best suited to a half-forward flank making lightning raids on the midfield and apparently kicking set shots from 50 that he'd spray from 15.

Marty Hore still leads overall. To rest of the season is so meaningless - and we probably won't kick any goals next week - you'd have to dob one over your head from full back to get past him now.

A rare tactical misstep by the Demon Army, leaving the motivational message on the non-run through side and instead displaying some flat reference to superheroes at Marvel.

The door was open for only the second away win in the history of this competition, and though the Saints efforts are too slick and seemingly industrially produced their message nearly scanned right, and they had a nice font. Then the players gently slipped through a concealed curtain like they were exiting the shower, leaving the top 80% of the banner unaffected so it could just be velcroed back and new letters applied ready for next week. With an extra curtain penalty for dishonesty it just gets us over the line. Dees 18-1-0 for the season.

Next Week
I thought West Coast would hump us unmercifully, but we clung on long enough to make the game interesting. Richmond, on the other hand, will touch us in a very uncomfortable place without any concern for our consent. This is going to get ugly, and the 250,000 replays of Sydney Stack killing Jack Viney will have nothing on the brutality they'll have on tape afterwards.

Last time against the Tiges we put in a memorable first quarter then went "that'll do", scored 6.6.42 and slowly ebbed away to a 37 point loss. If we got to 42 points again I'd be staggered. It's going to be a massive rooting and I'm glad I can only watch on TV rather than carting my arse to the stadium and being at the mercy of jubilant Richmond fans.

I know we're not going to make bulk changes because we never do but I'm proposing them anyway. Feels rude to chuck Baker and McDonald after one game but they were both terrible, Neal-Bullen has done chuff all this season, there's no point playing Lewis in this bullshit forward role if he's not going to be there next year so pack him away until our Friday night game in Round 22, treat that as a farewell, then save him having to go to Hobart for the last game.

Yes, that's right, in what looked like a much better idea before Round 1 we've got a prime time game coming up against Sydney. It may rival Melbourne vs Freo 1999 for the lowest ratings in Friday Night Footy history. There's still time for the AFL to reschedule us out of that as part of the Round 23 fixture reveal. I'd play it on Norfolk Island at 10am on a Wednesday.

Brayshaw needs to be this week's ritual sacrifice. Some of his disposal would get you kicked out of a country league where teams win by 500 points. I don't give a rat's that he finished third in the Brownlow, we abuse umpires for every other decision they make so it's ok to admit they were wrong here too. He was pretty good last year, and for patches of this season, but that bronze medal morally belongs to Oliver or Gawn. If his woes this year are from being played out of position either play him in position or stop trying to force round peg into the square hole and do something about it.

The ins don't fill me with confidence but it's about making statements now. Of the five inclusions May is the only one that brings me any joy, and I could in fact do without Dunkley, JFK or Lockhart but I'm buggered if I know who else there is available. Would have loved to finally give Maynard a third game but he's injured, missing his last chance and heading towards an imminent delisting.

I originally had Weideman in, then he was concussed 30 seconds into the VFL game. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world. At first I didn't want to rush Melksham back but he got through the Casey game so why not. What's the worst that could happen to a foot? (Mitch Clark, Jack Viney...)

In reality I'll bet you the changes are May for Oscar and we just merrily go to our graves thinking there's some way that 21/22 of the players who just served up a steaming plate of vom might retain their dignity against a side winding up for a crack at the flag. Richmond by a shitload.

IN: Melksham, Kennedy-Harris, May, Lockhart, Dunkley
OUT: Baker, Brayshaw, Lewis, McDonald, Neal-Bullen (omit)
LUCKY: The Wagnii
UNLUCKY: Hore, Maynard, Dunkley, Preuss (sob)

Meanwhile, I've been watching the Casey game while finishing this post and can somebody explain the rationale between playing Preuss as the centre bounce ruckman in a dead rubber, against opposition a foot shorter than him? We know he can tap ruck, we have no problems with him tap rucking, it's that we want forward 50 marks and goals. It's a long time since Casey recruited Fev against our wishes, it is in almost every sense now our reserves side so why are they not instructed to join in the 2020 pre-season spirit? Give Bradtke his chance to be #1 ruck against diminished opposition, put four quarters of forward development into Preuss and if we lose who gives a rats?

Was it worth it?
No, no, no, and a thousand times no.

Final thoughts
The last word belongs to this lady, whose deadpan protest isn't really directed towards Nick Hind, but at the last nine months of supporting Melbourne. And so say all of us...

#aflsaintsdees @marvelstadiumau @stkildafc 2019 has been a long year few #demons fans Nick Hind & a #dees fan after he kicked the winning goal 4th term @theagesport @agerealfooty pic.twitter.com/4CddrRAtr6

— Wayne Ludbey (@WLudbey) July 27, 2019

17 and Counting

Ultimately there is next to nothing between finishing 16th and 17th this year. In a few years nobody will remember precisely what spot this death spiral of a year ended in, just that (hopefully) it led to bigger and better things. On the unusual event of winning a flag there will be a long list of things to go back and laugh about and this year would have to get a mention somewhere near the bottom.

The only issue now is whether we pick second or third in the draft. I think you've watched Melbourne long enough to know that whoever we overlook will become a star and our selection will be have a middling career that never lives up to its early promise. Our salvation lies in finding multiple players who have an immunity to the naturally occurring evil forces surrounding this club.

Plunging to second last shouldn't bother me. It's not like the explosive decompression of 2007 where everyone (except me, who clung to hope until the second quarter of Round 1, 2008) knew we had a long, hard few years ahead of us. If nothing else we can go into 2020 hopeful that this year was an aberration. But while I'm as happy as you can be for Carlton fans that they've torn off the Cloak of Distress hurled it back over us I've still got a feeling of deep shame about being in the bottom two again. It's like getting out of rehab, staying clean for a year then falling back into hopeless self-destructive behaviour.

Like 2012 and 2013 we are, once again, the worst team in the competition that has existed for more than a decade. But somebody has to finish 17th, and if you can engineer a soft landing to that lowly position it shouldn't matter in the long run. Pride is temporarily dented, people try to justify sacking the coach, the same tipsters who'd said we were going to win the flag turn hard on us, a few players and assistants see their careers go up in smoke, and in the end we're sitting on the same couch as the 9th placed team watching better sides play finals. Then on October 1 everybody's theoretically equal again.

I'm just glad that if we had to achieve one of the greatest plummets in the competition's history that we went down swinging against a premiership contender. Last week we looked so dull in losing - by an admittedly small margin - to mid-table mediocrity that I started to lose faith in next year. This reintroduced a bit of hope which will no doubt be chewed up and spat back in my face when the Saints clean our clock next week. Then I'll lose the plot and start trying to sack everybody.

It's only misguided hope for next year that's keeping me from whacking a fork in the toaster. From about Round 5 when it became clear this season was rooted my model for a revival has been 2016/2017 Richmond, but even they won eight games in their crisis year and we'd be flat out to get seven. Turns out I should have been looking at West Coast 2010/2011, who went from four wins and last to 17, a prelim overnight, and several years later a flag.

In a long line of recent disappointments this was just another loss but there was a different feeling about it. Some of that was pride at annoying the elite, some was annoyance at going down by under three goals for the fifth time this year, the other 96% was joy at ticking off another week towards the end of this bullshit season.

For many people the highlight of the first quarter was a 9-0 free kick count, offering the convenient excuse of umpiring for our plight rather than being no good. Couldn't see many of them that weren't there given that we were hanging onto opponents at every opportunity, and it makes perfect sense that we'd take to the task of beating the defending premiers by scragging them at every opportunity. You'd think we'd have snagged a free somewhere in that run but it doesn't mean a grand conspiracy is afoot. Like tossing a coin, chances are you're not going to get heads nine times in a row but it can happen. Having said that, there was one corker of a decision in the last quarter that demands a mention but we'll get to that later.

The wheel of umpiring finally turned in our favour when accidental forward sensation Harrison Petty won a free during a marking contest late in the quarter. Sadly he discovered that kicking outdoor is a lot different to under a roof and missed from barely any angle. This was much to the delight of professional television buffoon Brian Taylor, who was convinced that all our goalkicking woes in the first quarter came from not allowing for the wind. Even when they showed a flag sitting perfectly still he just paused for a second and carried on with his prepared remarks.

At the start of the third quarter he claimed the breeze had changed direction but the flags weren't showing it. Had somebody tied them down like the Windy Hill windsock? Is this man doing an elaborate performance art routine? Sometimes I think about how much he gets paid to do this and think about removing myself from society.

The Petty experiment half worked again, he missed two gettable set shots (and who didn't?) but took some cracking contested marks on the way and is worth persisting with for the rest of the year. Equally worthy but with a much shorter shelf life was the Jordan Lewis defensive forward project. Last week he was a tagger, now this, and appropriately they were two of his best games for the year. Let's not get any crazy ideas about going on in 2020 but I'm satisfied for him to play out the year unless we find a kid at Casey smashing the door down for a run. Let's spend the last five weeks playing in a new completely random role every time.

Lewis' presence nullified the always dangerous George McGovern and he even took a couple of handy forward 50 marks. Couldn’t kick straight if his life depended on it but that’s the price you pay for doing something unusual. Petty and Lewis were not alone in missing. Viney and Fritsch also did it by quarter time, leaving us on 1.5.11. The goal came first via Corey Wagner walking into an open goal, after that it was peg leg central. Whoever our next forward coach is they should be working on a masterplan for more empty square goals, they're the secret herbs and spices behind a successful teams.

We recovered to 'only' one goal less than behinds, but it leaves us a shameful -7 for the season. Remember the Essendon game where nobody could miss? What a false dawn that was. Naturally, when they’re kicking against us teams are +62, second only to St Kilda for accuracy against – which suggests you should bet big on a high total score next week. Geelong, on the other hand, are top of the ladder and teams are -29 against them. Can't help being lucky.

Since 1990 we've kicked more behinds than goals in 1997, 2012 and 2014. The common thread is that we were shite in all those years. One spoon, one moral spoon, and one where we had so few goals that every missed shot was worth about double what it is today. Bad kicking is bad football rings true, since 2010 the record of teams making finals with more behinds than goals is 2/72. So you’re a 2.7% chance of finishing in the eight if you score at under 50%. Of course a lot of teams are going above 50% and missing out as well so it's more complicated than that but not wasting chances by the dozen would help. One day a coach will chuck sports science, put on extra goalkicking practice and thrive. Then everyone will follow.

I went in thinking we were no good and the first quarter did nothing to change my mind. There were signs of life from forwards who won't be playing the same role in Round 1 next year, but also in defence where they will. The backline wasn't perfect (except Michael Hibberd, who disposed at 100%) but having May, Lever and Jetta together is a big win. Now get to work on stopping it rocketing towards them as if shot from a cannon.

If that unit gets to Round 1 2020 intact it will be a fair start to recapturing our dignity. The midfield was also doing well, even with Gawn suffering flashbacks to when nobody defended him against West Coast the first time and playing an ordinary game by his standards. Oliver did Oliver things, Harmes did Harmes things, and while Brayshaw ended the first quarter on world record pace for conceding free kicks, he did such a good job of tagging Elliot Yeo that the Eagles man was later moved to do the old Jakovich style 'up yours' after kicking a goal.

If wobbling to quarter time 20 points down furthered my belief that we were no chance, the first three minutes after the break seemingly confirmed it. Two more easy goals, a 32 point lead, and the prospect of a supercalifragisltic demolition job was on the cards. Which would have gone down well with the largely pro-Eagles crowd.

The usual disclaimers about NT games apply, but any danger of going back to playing Gold Coast there so we can keep up the pretence of a home game? Even GWS. Problem being Channel 7 has latched onto the game (possibly due to a large sum being deposited in their bank account too), so they're not going to let us play unfashionable opposition as the lead-in to the Sunday news. They haven't had their hooks into Darwin yet, so let's go for 1/2 NT matches against sides with no fans next year.

From those disappointing origins, cue one of the most low key comebacks of all time, leaving us just a point behind at the half via a couple of short, sharp, bursts of goals and the opposition hitting the brick wall of our shiny new backline. We certainly didn't have any trouble marking inside 50, it was just the putting of ball through the tallest set of posts that proved an issue. Fritsch had no such problems with three in a quarter that should see him never allowed in the defensive 50 again. Lewis also got two, one from a free that saved him after hitting the post from point blank range, and Viney another. The post-tall forward philosophy of finding goals from alternative sources was alive and well.

It was the ultimate Reverse DemonTime, with three goals in the dying minutes, and the last to Fritsch after the siren activated reverse Stranglewank mode. Still didn't think we'd win but it was nice to have renewed hope of something positive happening. Draft picks be fully buggered, I still want to win. Another at the start of the third quarter put us ahead and really made me pay attention. I could almost have believed in keeping their score down but held zero confidence in us kicking a big enough score to win.

A dip in the middle of the quarter let the Eagles back in, and because I was looking for any opportunity to stop believing that was good enough for me to concede. I'd be shithouse in a war. It got worse when Viney was confirmed finished for the day with concussion and May was seen going for treatment on his hamstring. That would be right, it's been a while since we've been bulldozed by the Media Curse, so what better time than just as he emerges from the darkness to receive a glowing tribute in the paper. Fortunately he treated the curse like a Brisbane player, kicked it in the grundle and made a triumphant recovery. I haven't felt this way about a #1 since Jamie Shanahan.

There were the usual blunders, but we also had moments of clarity where the ball movement was top eight standard. Revival 2.0 started with a piece of A+ play from Fritsch and Hunt to set up Wagner's second, followed by Oliver capping off a sensational quarter of wrenching the hard ball (CLICHE) from wherever it fell by kicking a sweet goal from the pocket. We were up by six and this was either going to be a magnificent victory or a replay of Adelaide.

It was the latter, with Jack Darling invoking the name of Lucas Cook by kicking two, and a string of misses on our side that condemned us to defeat. One came from a new contender for the ugliest kick of all time, with Gawn plucking the ball out of mid-air while lying on his back and being pinged for "dragging it in". Somebody will probably tell me it was a technically correct decision etc... etc... but talk about going against the spirit of the contest.

After the Ruck Craft incident he was terrifically restrained in not telling the umpire to blow it out her arse, possibly with thought to the earlier goal where Jake Lever responded to a free kick by yelling words to the effect of "that's fucking bullshit!" and copping a 50 for "abuse". Congratulations to whichever of Lever's teammates tried to rope the umpire into repeating his words with a live microphone on, and boo to the umpire who wouldn't join in.

After three Melbournesque misses by the Eagles we had a last gasp at creating a thrilling finish when Petty converted at his third attempt. It came the hard way, with Preuss first ruining an otherwise delightful lead by dropping an absolute sitter like a ball of fire had hit his hands and caused him to recoil in pain.

When you're all in on something you’ll either be right or very wrong, and I'm here to tell that you that as it stands Preuss forward is wrong. Not writing him off forever, and he has got about three more years on his contract to get it right, but yesterday was one of the great disasters of our time. As a tap ruckman he’s good, but unless Gawn burns his hand off in an industrial accident that's not what we need. I'm prepared to go into bat for late-era Spencil, but this was like his first few games when he had absolutely no idea.

In the last two weeks old moustache lips has dropped about 10 marks under minimal pressure and I can't have it. Also, he cost us a goal by getting halfway through a tackle and instead of dumping the guy to the turf like Dylan Grimes in Shepparton let go halfway through. We've been spoiled by the rare scenario of having the best player in the competition in his position but this was not good. I'd feel like a dickhead for advocating so strongly for him but all I (we?) asked was to give him a chance to prove himself as a forward. That he has not, and based on yesterday it would be better to play Weideman or Smith and just wear the reduction in quality taps. It's not a permanent write off, I still have high hopes for him in the future but this week he's got to be a human sacrifice.

Petty mopping up the mess left us needing two goals to win with plenty of time to get them. It could have happened, see for instance the end of the second quarter, except we had to do it with a makeshift forward arrangement. I had a fantasy about Preuss doing something insane and coming out triumphant. Instead, like the '87 Prelim and forgetting how much time there was left at Docklands, we found a none-more-Melbourne way to lose.

One goal would have made it anyone's game, so when we stormed out of defence and landed the ball with Fritsch on the wing, him setting up the goal that kept us in it would have been a cherry on the cake of his finest day. Instead he tried to kick back into the middle of the ground, missed all the Melbourne players by a mile and turned the ball over for the winning goal. There was added insult to injury when the shot did the opposite of Hannan's kick supergluing itself to the line against Carlton, bobbling around hopefully for a few seconds before going through.

Given the very low stakes we were playing for I hadn't let myself get physically excited but saved my one outburst for this. We probably wouldn't have won anyway, and he could very well have just roosted it inside 50 to a defender and left us in the same situation, but it felt like a cruel way to go down after battling hard, and especially after Fritsch playing so well. All I know is that he should not leave the forward line for the rest of the year.

Between Fritsch and Hunt we had some pace in the half-forward/wing area for the first time in ages. This is a good sign for the future, what are the odds we can get Weid/McSizzle/Other on the end of their good work next year? I'm not even convinced we can do it again next week.

So, we gave a good side a shake. What does it get us? Nothing. Let's just end this outstandingly poor decade in the best possible way and move onto my fifth decade of trying to see this bloody useless organisation win a flag.

2019 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Bayley Fritsch
4 - Clayton Oliver
3 - James Harmes
2 - Steven May
1 - Michael Hibberd

Massive apologies to Lever and Salem, who were very unlucky to miss out. Lesser apologies to Brayshaw, Hunt, Lewis, Petracca and the Wagnii.

Leaderboard
Poor old Max is going to overrun isn't he? It would be sad, but stiff shit that's the way footy awards go. Consider it a warm-up to being hosed on Brownlow night. Harmes is now also within range, but picking up eight votes on Gawn and Oliver in five rounds is probably too big a task. Unlike Melbourne he remains a mathematical chance. As is everyone down to Viney.

No movement in the minors, Salem has still got the Seecamp sewn up, and Hore remains a full BOG in front of Lockhart in the Hilton race. Jay is beginning to flag so Marty should be alright, even if he's unlikely to get a game now that our real backline has been reunited.

39 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
36 - Clayton Oliver
31 - James Harmes
27 - Christian Salem (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year),
17 - Jack Viney
--- Abandon all hope ye below here ---
14 - Jake Melksham
13 - Angus Brayshaw
11 - Marty Hore (LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)
10 - Steven May
9 - Nathan Jones, Christian Petracca
7 - Jayden Hunt
6 - Jay Lockhart
5 - Bayley Fritsch
4 - Sam Frost, Tom McDonald, Billy Stretch
2 - Michael Hibberd, Harrison Petty, Corey Wagner

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year

With nothing too flashy on offer I'm going to opt for context. Oliver's finish from the boundary line late in the third quarter gave us the lead and hope. Neither lasted but it was an appropriately clutch finish that I hope he can eventually recreate in a game that counts. For the weekly prize he wins a 40 gallon drum of sunscreen for his next visit to the northern states.

Marty Hore still holds the overall lead, and anyone who thinks they're going to challenge will need to do something remarkable.

Given that West Coast has their players spewed across the ground from the mouth of an inflatable Eagle I didn't think they bothered to do banners for away games. They did and it was very pretty, with bonus points for local language translation. But ours flowed beautifully and had a neat little exclamation mark so I'm going for that in a thriller. Dees 17-1-0 for the season.



Not hard when you're next to a bloke who talks complete jibberish all day but Hamish McLachlan is better than he used to be. He's no Jason Bennett or Anthony Hudson, but compared to some of the lunatics they have calling games I can handle him. Goes for the occasion howler of a gag but he feels more genuine than somebody reading off a list of pre-prepared interesting facts or rehearsed 'funny' lines.

He did have one moment of high farce while in conversation with Gilbert McAdam. He accidentally said three-quarter time instead of half time and did a pretty good job to cover it by throwing a question to Gilbert only for it to be greeted with dead silence because the Gil it's ok to like had ducked off for a hot dog.

On the topic of Gilbert, he's a refreshing personality but any danger we could find out Viney had been off the ground for 16 minutes within 16 minutes? TV boundary riders always seem to be miles behind the news with injured players, whereas their radio equivalent are practically leaping into the third row of the bench to get the scoops on the most minor issue. If you're going to subject us to hysterically screaming commentators get the basics right.

Finance Corner
We go through the selling of home games thing every time, but what I will not accept is a lazy "if that was at the MCG we'd have won it", as if we play well there. Maybe if we turned it into a home game at Docklands and ended up paying a fortune just to turn up, but we are decidedly ordinary on our own turf. Which is a bit of a problem. Had we won either of the close NT games we'd have picked up as many points interstate as in Victoria. May as well sell more. Now that Brisbane's good again they might pay us to play home games at the Gabba again.

Coincidentally I re-read Ian Ridley's Urge to Merge during the week, and as much as I'd rather set myself on fire outside the MCG than shack up with any other club it's frightening how right he was about the club's position. There was money in the bank in 1996 but part of the reason for trying to swallow Hawthorn whole was projections that we'd be rooted in a few years. And we were, Gutnick's money was pissed up the wall, we rattled the tins at the start of the Stynes administration and were bailed out by the AFL less than five years later.

I can't see a situation where they get a taste for executing clubs again, and even in that case I think there's at least two that would be in the gun before us, but there is no divine right to survival just because we're called Melbourne. Last year we put $7 million in the bank by selling the Leighoak Club (not quite the $11 million suggested here), which provides a buffer but leaves us with one less asset, and a Bentleigh Club that we're going to run without pokies from 2022. There's nothing in the financial results that suggests whether Bentleigh turns a profit anyway, but they're going to have to make the joint work without gaming or it'll be a weight around our ankles.

The point is we're not Collingwood and you can't act like it. We all love taking over Casey and having an AFLW team but that costs money. Increased investment in football department spending is not compatible with playing all our games in Victoria, dumping pokies, and if you listen to some nervy people paying out the coach well before his contract expires. This is our lot and will be for years to come. If the NT money goes we're in more trouble than the early settlers so best make the most of it, because if they pull the plug we'll be left throwing money into a blanket carried around the boundary line at three quarter time.

Next Week
Because we're a tragic enterprise doomed to eternal failure we develop our seconds players at a ground with a wind (and as it turns out a surface) that turns the game into a deathly struggle. This leads to games with scores of 39-48 defeat, doesn't do a thing for kids who will play on real grounds in the seniors, and tells us nothing about form for next week.

For that reason I'm going to be extremely conservative on changes. Let the group that did well in Alice prove themselves by backing it up. Sadly I'm tapping out on the Preuss experiment. Sometimes there's an argument for playing people just for development's sake but I can't go for it in this case.

The Weid hasn't played for a couple of weeks so it's a bit NQR to put him straight back in, but here we are. I think we're safe from a Tankquiry so if he's fit play him. Otherwise send Petty (injured ankle and all) to ruck school during the week and hope that the midfield does the business. I once saw James Harmes win a centre bounce ruck tap, play him in there if you must. I don't want to run Gawn into the ground but you just can't turn a blind eye when somebody drops about six uncontested marks.

If you're fanging for a top two pick the good news is that St Kilda's done the time honoured sack coach/win next game move. It usually fizzes out quickly, but this year North and Carlton have both done so well since pushing the boss out a window that teams will probably start replacing coaches after winning a Prelim.

Back at Fortress Shithole for the last time this year I'd like to think we'll win but you never know what you're going to get with this lot. I'm going to allow myself to be sucked in with Linda Lovelace force and tip us to win. Which is really just a set up to go right off if we don't.

IN: Weideman (if fit) or Kennedy-Harris
OUT: Preuss (omit)
LUCKY: Neal-Bullen
UNLUCKY: Kennedy-Harris (if Weid fit)

Final thoughts
Turns out we match up pretty well against the Eagles as long as there's not a Grand Final berth at stake. This has given me some hope for the future, but I need for that to be validated over the next five weeks by a series of strong performances. Either way it's going to be a very long summer waiting to find out whether 2018 or 2019 was the fluke.