What do you do for an encore?

Fremantle's next visit to the MCG may be to collect their first flag, but until then they'll have to console themselves with playing victim in one of the great modern-era Melbourne home and away wins. I haven't felt this close to dropping dead during a game since the great mystery blood nose at half time of the Grand Final. 

Gawn after the siren was the most important kick of my lifetime, but like Melksham sinking Brisbane, a glorious comeback was only possible due to a period of rock bottom slop earlier in the game. The closest recent equivalent of playing four quarters against quality of opposition, with serious finals implications was that blessed 2018 win over the Eagles that wound up the #fistedforever era. And what that offered in joyous discarding of shackles, it lacked a delirious home crowd going off their collective tits.

The only downside is that the bullshit Wildcard Round removed the mayhem of confirming a proper finals berth by beating the minor Premier, and meant we're still playing the last two weeks to win a week off. Who's to say this would've been played in the same context if the consolation round didn't exist, but after going through the emotional torment of this game I'm offended that we might still be required to win five games for the flag - just so the AFL and associated media stooges can flog themselves over Collingwood and Carlton sneaking into finals via the discreet side entrance.

Other than that, everything was A1, ++++, top shelf, hook it to my veins stuff. A record home and away crowd between the sides, an all-time never-say-die performance, and further confirmation that this has been a great season. On paper, we should keep winning and avoid the insulting path to September, but I reserve the right to be insulted by having to play a knockout game against one of the Lucky Losers.

Nothing I write will do the off its face insanity of this game justice. It was the footy equivalent of the seemingly unkillable T-1000 coming back from the dead, and the biggest surprise of all is that it ended with several goalless minutes rather than some last-second outrage (well, there was a bit of that for Freo fans, but in two months they can dry their eyes on a flag, or will have much bigger things to be disappointed about). The obvious thing to do, in a season where the AFL have botched everything else so what's one more stupid decision - would be to cancel the final two rounds and finals, and proceed directly to a Melbourne/Freo Grand Final.

Last time around, the Dockers blew us away in a savage first quarter before anyone realised they were good. I thought it was proof that you couldn't play St Kilda every week, and settled in for a season-long quest for signs that the future was going to be ok. Things have turned out alright for both teams since, but for everything good we've done since Round 2, my first order of business here was not to get blown out by quarter time. Their vast array of tall forwards justified the pre-match concern, only to be matched by us kicking a wide-variety of mad, unlikely, probably unrepeatable goals in return. If you fed this game into a simulator and re-ran it, there's no way we'd win. But we did, and thank god for that because once "it's the hope that kills you" mode began, I may have expired if we'd blown it in tragic circumstances.

The story of this game was told via the first two goals - Freo found a forward in space and kicked the set shot, then we brute-forced through the reply from the next bounce. Cue total madness. But at first, cue Freo looking like they were going to put us away quickly. There were vigorous appeals by our defenders that their next goal was either touched or hit the post, and we'll assume the reviewer had a better angle than the one shown on the TV replay, which couldn't zoom out enough to see Bowey's hands, let alone whether they'd made contact with the ball. 

This turned into another goal straight away, despite Fitzgerald getting away with unconvincing acting while pretending he didn't know who a free from the middle was supposed to go to. Enter goals galore, including Laurie rolling a snap through from an obscure angle. Then, in a meeting of the Maligned AFL Players Association (the MAFLPA), was given another one on a silver plate via defensive calamity by Mason Cox. Surely the only reason they picked him was because two of his three best games were against us at the MCG, but sadly neither of them involved a wonky kick across goal, sitting up perfectly for interception. If there's anything to argue about, Laurie could've stopped and kicked the set shot instead of rushing to poke it through along the ground from 30 metres out but all's well that ends in six points.

Pickett rorted a high contact free in the last minute, but did another one of his infamous 'flatter than a plateful of piss' snaps that didn't make the distance. He was fined for staging for a free kick, which is fair enough because there was a fair bit of 'emphasis' added to the contact, but somehow the certain Freo player who toppled over in even more comical, slapstick fashion when the game was on the line in the last quarter got away with it. Consider it a winner's tax. Otherwise you'll have to question whether the player only gets fined if the umpire falls for it.

If you got a quarter like this in a final, even the AFL couldn't find a way to mess it up, but we've been involved in other opening terms this year which resembled the 1989 Grand Final before failing to sustain it for a full game. So, no point getting overly excited just yet. Especially when the opening minutes of Q2 were wall-to-wall Freo - suggesting we didn't have the capability to go with them in a shootout. The third consecutive goal came via a ball carrying the pack so surprisingly that even the TV camera couldn't work out where it was going.

So, not for the first time in this game I thought we'd run out of answers and were going to be beaten comfortably. But that's because I am - and always will be - a coward who expects the worst to happen. Enter Petty, who didn't have anything to prove after the inter-personal unpleasantness of his last meeting with Freo, but got us going again with a great set shot from distance and angle. I was more interested in the goal than the self-referential head patting after, but appreciate him keeping up the old storylines. And as much as I think villains are necessary for keeping footy interesting, the thought of Patrick Voss being moved to tears after buggering up the Grand Final is PISS FUNNY, and depending on the alternative premiers I'll be into it.

This goal was not only important for Bald Pride, but for kicking off another dramatic comeback. On either side of Fritsch kicking a perfectly reasonable set shot, you had Sharp kicking a ridiculous long distance bomb, and Bowey venturing forth to join the fun as well. The good times ended with Amiss kicking his third. A fine forward, but I've never seen a human with such perfectly Lego Man-shaped hair. But we responded to this by Laurie snapping his third after Petty volleyballed it to him. Which was nice, right until it went straight out of the middle for another of Freo's terrifying triple towers of talls to wipe it out. 

We nearly responded to their response when the ball found Petty from the next bounce, but he hit the post and caused a short break in the madness. It's a shame that we turned an attack in the last 30 seconds into a free goal, featuring our old friend Voss pelting down the ground and thumping one through on the run. Still, what a first half. Usually I don't give a toss about the feelings of neutrals, but anyone who didn't enjoy this has a ridiculously high bar for entertainment. I still couldn't see us winning, considering how the scoring was basically all 'ridiculous goals from every conceivable angle' vs 'bog ordinary set shots'. Pleased to have been proven wrong.

The manic scoring slowed down in the second half, which arguably was a better result for us because even as a yellow-streaked cynic I don't think we could've kept up with more 10 goal quarters. Sharp ran onto a Windsor through ball to make the margin 10, but to nobody's surprise Freo got it back 30 seconds later. Then another one right out of the middle, leaving us in the unusual position where it may have been better (at the time - end result perfectly fine thanks) if the ball had run away from Sharp and gone through for a point.

After our two early goals, the game was back on Freo's terms, as the entertainment value went back to Justin Longmuir-approved levels of them kicking it between unmarked players and waiting for a gap to appear.  One of the few remaining highlights of the quarter was Pickett doing a cracking tackle in the back pocket, with an assist from Jiath hanging onto the opponent's arm for dear life, before kicking it straight to a forward 25 metres out directly in front. He was then pictured with his shorts so far down that he nearly became the first AFL player to have his dick shown on live TV since Ricky Henderson. For unknown reasons, they missed the easiest set shot of all. 

Sadly, the Lego Man wasn't as polite and converted his chance not long after. Meanwhile, we were still relying on the extraordinary rather than the obvious - as Laurie and Fritsch both missed set shots to bring the margin back under a goal before three quarter time. Langford did pull down a potential Mark of the Year, but I cannot tell a lie - as it didn't lead to a goal, I preferred the one he took in the square to seal last week's game.

As the most recent ex-Melburnian to appear with Freo, McVee (remember him?) was getting booed every time he went near it. Meanwhile, Jackson was engaging in a heavyweight struggle with Gawn - featuring them trading momentum throughout the day. With respect to Max Heath, who let the record show I'm still keen on, Jackson should rejoin us if Freo wins a flag, then spend the rest of his career swapping back and forth between the teams every time he plays in another premiership. This may be slightly optimistic considering the sides only have one combined in almost 100 seasons of play.

After the free-scoring madness of the first half, you couldn't help but notice we hadn't kicked a goal for about 30 minutes. Then after working our arse off to get one that cut the margin to eight, Petty gave away an unnecessary 50 for a post mark bump and we were back to square one. There wasn't much in the contact, but it didn't need to happen in the first place. It was only a minor disappointment in what was otherwise a great performance. With JVR and Jefferson missing, Petty was a towering presence inside 50 and I formally renounce any claims that he should play in defence. He was soon back, marking in the square after an attempted Gawn megabomb fell short. This one survived the next centre bounce, before going the other way via a free.

Midway through the quarter, 14 points down, and in 'Score Or Die' territory, our golden run of crazy goals continued when Sharp instinctively soccered one through a crowd that I was convinced was going to be declined on review on some technicality like it bouncing off a defender's shoelaces. Then Fritsch put us in front, my blood pressure reached Hot Springs of Rotorua levels of bubbling, and suddenly our job was to hold on for several minutes against a side capable of plucking down marks inside 50 at any moment. 

Petty missed a gettable one that would've extended the margin to nine, before the ball went the other way for his mate to have a shot. After torching multiple teammates standing on their own in better positions, he missed, and last laughs were had by everyone of a non-anchor wearing persuasion. At some point, Cox went over like one of those inflatable clowns when fairly bumped by Lever in the square, the umpire wasn't fooled, and apparently that means it didn't constitute a dive. 

Freo's last chance at a heartbreaking rebound fell apart when one of them dropped an easy mark, and thank the good lord, the matter was settled when Fritsch marked in the dying seconds, allowing him the chance to run the clock down before having a stress-free ping.

Now, the ball may have very well been over the line when he marked it, and there's every possible chance Freo would've turned a free kick in defence with 30 seconds left into an opportunity to win the game. But they didn't, so stiff shit. And how come the video review can decide whose foot the ball came off midway through the second quarter, but can't have a look at this? Easy to say because we won, but may we never get to the point where the reviewers are trying to determine whether or not the entire ball crossed the boundary line, based on the EGA graphics they're currently trying to make decisions on.

Other than the obvious joy of overcoming the odds multiple times to win, my highlight was the wild celebrations between Petty and Turner which showed just how much this result meant to them. In the post-match afterglow, Petty claimed he hadn't enjoyed a game more since the Grand Final - and I can't blame him. It was bloody ace, and I look forward to referencing it in obscure, weird, unexpected ways for years to come. 

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Harrison Petty
4 - Kysaiah Pickett
3 - Harry Sharp
2 - Max Gawn
1 - Koltyn Tholstrup

Apologies to 3/4 of the team, but more specifically - Bowey, Fritsch, Langford, Laurie and Sparrow.

Leaderboard
Pickett gains enough ground to keep the main race alive, but Gawn is into about a 99.9% chance of winning. If the lead doesn't reduce significantly next week, I'm calling it. No alterations in the other awards, with the Turner vs Bowey vs Lever triple threat match for the Seecamp unresolved.

55 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
40 - Kysaiah Pickett
--- Needs at least four finals ---
29 - Tom Sparrow
27 - Jack Steele
--- Needs utter stupidity to occur in a weird run to the Grand Final via a Wildcard Wankfest ---
20 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
--- Cannot win, we love them anyway ---
19 - Jacob van Rooyen
18 - Jake Bowey
16 - Jake Lever
13 - Ed Langdon
12 - Harvey Langford, Harrison Petty
10 - Bayley Fritsch, Koltyn Tholstrup
9 - Kade Chandler
6 - Caleb Windsor
5 - Harry Sharp
4 - Brody Mihocek
2 - Blake Howes, Matthew Jefferson, Jake Melksham
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
In a ridiculous collection of goals plucked from arse, elbow, and elsewhere, it's apologies to options including Laurie's first, Bowey, Petty from the boundary line, Sharp's second quarter nudges out his soccer spectacular. Off-balance, well outside 50, and he kicked the cover off it with such force that the ball crossed the line in mid-air. It would've looked good bouncing through, but clearing the hapless defenders was an added bonus. 

SHARPY FROM LONG RANGE 🎯#DemonSpirit | #AFLDeesFreo pic.twitter.com/RnvI0wiF9S

— Melbourne Demons (@melbournefc) August 8, 2026

This sits just behind Cross on King's Birthday due to context, but if you told me in February that they'd have our best two goals of the season I'd have a) wondered if the rest of the side was wiped out by an injury crisis, and b) asked who Paddy Cross was. 

Next week
After a season of losing without being disgraced, Port introduced cue to rack and only narrowly avoided losing to Sydney by a 100. Surely to god we take care of them in a relatively normal and businesslike fashion, and don't do anything stupid. Despite Jefferson's recent struggles, I refuse to dump him on the scrapheap just yet UNLESS they're prepared to give McSizzle the retirement present of playing forward in the last few weeks and seeing if he can cause some unexpected damage before/after finals. Otherwise, stick with the same lineup and let's just do what we're meant to with minimal fuss.

IN: Nil
OUT: Nil
LUCKY: Jefferson 
UNLUCKY: Anyone at Casey who missed out on pressing their claims because of another bullshit VFL bye in a competition with an equal number of teams.

The All-New Bradbury Plan
We could realistically finish anywhere between 4th and 8th, so there's all sorts of permutations in play. Just make it up as you go. 

The possible
Collingwood d. Hawthorn for a top four plan. Hawthorn d. Collingwood if you want to try and get rid of them entirely out of spite.
Fremantle d. Adelaide

The unlikely
Gold Coast d. Brisbane
North Melbourne d. Geelong
Carlton d. Footscray in the hope that they'll be encouraged to rest half their side in the last game in an FU to the AFL.

Final thoughts
There's still so many directions this season can go in that I've got NFI what to think about anything. I'm thrilled and terrified at the same time. Never saw any of this coming but happy to embrace it.

Dubious achievement unlocked

Anyone of a Melbourne persuasion would have been alert and alarmed about dealing the season's most disappointing team their 10th defeat in a row. Then, halfway through the first quarter, with the game nowhere near decided, commentators suggested the smelling of blood, hinted the Suns were about to have a collective nervous breakdown, and made even the least superstitious say "can you just not, thanks". And with good reason, because a tropical banana skin in our Real Finals campaign was only avoided by climbing out of a big old ditch late in the third quarter.

I accuse Gold Coast of ripping off our 2019 season. They've followed a breakthrough finals campaign by sinking to the bottom of the ladder and losing a lot without being completely humiliated. That bodes well for a repeat of 2020, as the camera cuts to AFL executives force-feeding pigeons bird flu in an excuse to introduce shorter games. The bit they've missed is unlocking Christian Petracca's full power by nearly drowning him in a pool. And this with both Wet n' Wild and Sea World in the neighbourhood.

In one of the wildest turnarounds imaginable, my early season demand for a Gold Coast/GWS Grand Final featuring Petracca vs Oliver under the "If we're not involved, annoy the piss out of purists" rule is no longer valid. One has swirled down the toilet, the other is barely clinging on to the misplaced hope of finishing 10th, and Melbourne - of all teams - has come through the middle to finish higher than either protected species. All three are probably just as likely to win the flag, but only one holds a confirmed ticket in the lottery.

That's right, thanks to mid-table mediocrity being officially endorsed by the AFL, we are unable to be dislodged from the 'finals' race. Remember when you had to finish in the top half of the competition for that to happen? I still haven't gotten over 2017, even if the disappointment of no bastard laying a tackle for about 20 minutes eventually led to the joy of 2018, and ultimately a flag. Hooray for keeping the interest up for teams like Carlton, St Kilda, GWS, but there was a point during the third quarter of our game when I looked at the ladder, and realised that if we couldn't finish in the top six, it wouldn't make a difference to be anywhere between 7th and 10th. 

The home wildcard (*spit*) teams will be Victorian, so it would end in a Victorian 'final' one way or the other. Best avoided with a win, but where's the crushing sense of dread that makes the finals race? Imagine the impact on your vital organs knowing losing here would've left us teetering inside the eight by the end of next week, with two games left - including a potential in/out CORKER against Footscray in the last round? Now there's safety nets for teams who don't deserve them, and I'm not usually one to go on about "every child gets a prize" like your racist uncle on Facebook but let's not pretend there's any dignity in finishing 9th or 10th. 

It's not the fault of the 7th and 8th teams that they're dragged into this nonsense - which I have to say, because thanks to Geelong holding a whopping percentage, it's where we'll probably end up. You never know with this team - other than the first 6.5 quarters against Hawthorn, we haven't had many amazing wins since realising that this season might turn out a whole lot better than expected. But despite a swelling injury list, we keep racking up all important premiership points by any means necessary and consolidating our position in the finals race. How much more, except winning at Gather Round, could you have realistically asked for this season? I'm simultaneously overjoyed and miffed that the achievement is diluted by letting teams play if they don't deserve it - including, still, possibly us. 

After conceding 12 scoring shots to one in the first quarter of our last visit to Carrara, the obvious storyline - hammered home relentlessly through the commentary - was what the hell has happened to these teams over the last year? For enthusiasts, the real deal was Melbourne's first meeting with the late, great Christian Petracca. He barely had a touch for 20 minutes, under the watchful eye of 2026 revelation Koltyn Tholstrup, but I thought the booing lacked class. There's no need for a standing ovation, but here's a guy who was BOG on the greatest night of our supporting lives. There was a spot of unpleasantness on the way out, but if there's any departing player who you could just STFU about and get on with your life it's him. 

On a related note, the beat-up about him cracking the shits with a teammate last week was well over the top. As if this hasn't been going on since 1859 and wouldn't have been sorted out the moment they walked off the ground. Get back to me when teammates start throwing punches in the quarter time huddle. But who wasn't holding their breath for Trac and old mate to be the best on ground, leading their side to a breakthrough win, then walking off the field together in fits of laughter at the over the top reaction to a minor tiff. There were moments, but you were free to breathe well before it became potentially fatal.

There should be less offence about what Petracca says, and more about what he's wearing while saying it. For a team trying to crack a difficult market while simultaneously having one good season in every 15, whoever signed off that nondescript, 1970s mining company logo should be sacked. And if they were the same person who decided to blend it into the jumper so they look like counterfeit training tops, there should be a public feeding to the sharks. They used to look like a McDonalds franchise, but this putrid outfit does not represent progress - even if you won a final in it.

Anyway, enough of free consultancy advice to opposition sides. Let's talk about the 13-7 Melbourne Football Club, who have gone from 'detrimental to the reputation of the game' to 'the most entertaining team for neutrals to watch' overnight. Fair to say that a large part of that is that you'll generally see goals flying in at both ends. Can you entertain your way from fringe finalist to September success? I doubt it, but there's only one way to find out. Didn't work trying to bore the opposition into submission in 2022/2023, so may as well have a crack at this method.

After cracking the ton of points conceded on turnover last week, it wasn't a great sign when the locals got their first goal from our inability to clear the ball from defensive 50. On the other hand, may I present Fritsch stuffing the ball down van Rooyen's throat straight from the centre bounce to cancel it out? This is the 2026 Melbourne that I'm still struggling to come to terms with all these weeks later - my first instinct is that goals are rare and should be treated with respect. Turns out that rule and coaching philosophy changes have overcome that issue, and now we've signed up to Shootouts 'R Us. Sure, why not if it's carried us this far through what could easily have been something between a season of consolidation and a red-hot fiasco.

I know better than to get sucked in by a good first quarter, but by the time Pickett was bursting through gaps in the opposition defence, and Fitzgerald was getting into the spirit of things with his first career goal, it was looking quite good. But not good enough to justify the wankfest in the commentary box, where they were one step from suggesting the Suns were going to forfeit their AFL licence at half time. It may be a pointless enterprise set up in hope, but you can't stuff a side full of top draft picks, academy prospects, and an increasingly irate premiership coach - even by his standards - and expect them to roll over and die. 

Only one side gets to wave a white flag in these contests (and who'd have thought you'd think back fondly to the jumper the Suns are wearing in that clip in comparison to the piece of shit they've got now?), and wouldn't you know it, back came the locals, who barely had the majority of fans in their own ground. The good news for Gold Coast management is that even though their side has collapsed, almost 2000 people more turned up than when they beat us comfortably en route to finals last season. Either the tide is turning, or the away contingent was swelled by people who thought they might be able to escape cold as buggery Melbourne weather and see a win at the same time. And to escape Jonathan Brown trying to crack wise about how our fans "don't travel at this time of year" in such an awkward, comedy free way that even Dwayne Russell refused to get involved - albeit in Pilko Prentice "I'm not touching that one" style.

Given that ours is out of favour, injured, in and in serious danger of being the first male one gamist since 2002, one thing the Suns have got over us is a successful Jed. This one failed to heed advice from Fox Footy to roll over and die, kicking two goals in the first quarter. These set off minute-long sonic assaults of Call Me Maybe that made the MCG's post-goal 'entertainment' sound like gentle elevator music. The volume was so loud through the TV that it must have sounded like a jumbo jet taking off at the ground. Alright, play the bloody songs if you must, but if ear-splitting volume is ever scientifically proven to be the difference in encouraging people to attend I'll relocate to the Faeroe Islands.

Now we had the prospect of losing to a team in crisis, after a decent start, while hearing pop hits blaring out endlessly if this flange kicked a bag. You'd think the Suns would want to avoid mentions of one hit wonders. None of the other goal songs were nearly as loud, so if it turns out Jed's sister has a hearing condition and they turn it up x500 for her benefit etc... then please weigh up a cancellation on ableist grounds vs the fact that I didn't know because I don't care. The AFL's #1 Carly Rae Jepsen fanatic got his second late, just when we'd bounced back from their early post-commentary write-off flurry via Fritsch skidding one through. Where would The Entertainers be without either scoring or conceding late goals?

So, that took a bit of shine off a first quarter where we were far from dominant but were doing enough to look like winners. After a shaky start where it looked like Ben King was going to celebrate Suns' Member Appreciation Day by running riot one more time before pissing off to another club, McSizzle and Lever managed to keep things under control. There were still shizen turnovers galore, but this week without opposition good enough to take advantage. Thank god for that, considering there were about 30 minutes across the second and third quarters where our handball efficiency was at crisis levels. 

I suppose a few wild handballs is the price you pay for when it comes off and looks brilliant, but it's still high risk because a good team would've slaughtered us. Fortunately, none was available, so no harm done. It'll be different next week, against the spiritual successor to Melbourne 2021 - the dull but successful Dockers. If they're also ripping off our greatest hits (albeit via winning the minor premiership by several clear games, not after the siren of the final round), they'll storm to glory in the second half of a Grand Final played on our ground.

For the second week in a row, I had to go into a media blackout after a promising first quarter. Then, for tedious domestic reasons had to wait another 30 minutes to get back into it, leaving me at the mercy of Kayo doing a magic leap through time and spoiling the result. Has only ever happened once, but that's enough to scar me for life. At one point I was fast-forwarding after a goal, and when the screen jammed up for a second I dived for the volume and deliberately averted my gaze so I could turn the power off as a precaution. May you never have to go through the nonsense I do to follow this team.

By the time I got going with the second quarter, you were probably just boiling up over Wacky Umpiring Decision #9, so I still had that in my future. For now, I was able to enjoy conceding the first goal after Pickett and Fitzgerald had a tricky/workmanlike mismatch in defence. It's not Fitzgerald's job is to be doing last line of defence manoeuvres, so I'm not holding it him. It's impressive how comfortable he's been arriving from obscurity. How much more there is left to see is anyone's guess, but he's achieved the ultimate mid-season draftee situation of doing enough that other clubs would be interested - forcing us to pay extra to re-sign him. Obviously we're not talking about Scully money, but while every week makes it more likely there'll be a Sparrow-sized budget gap next season, he can (relatively) coin in. 

There's no telling whether he looks as good in a pox team, but would he not walk into Essendon or Richmond's side at the moment? Would be a bit rude to say "thanks for the opportunity" and naff off elsewhere, but maybe he'll take an anti-driving-to-Cranbourne stance. I would. [NB: The next day he signed a contract extension, I'm claiming credit]

Like the first quarter, we nearly responded to the early disappointment with an immediate reply but Langdon's optimistic ping missed. Turned out to be a seven point play - if you include the bit where we let them get the ball all the way down the other end before counter-attacking. After kicking at what I deemed 0% efficiency in the first quarter, Windsor walloped a long range set shot to put us back in front. Haven't seen him do that before, but open to more of it. He might have had another, except Steele's attempt to get the ball to him while standing on his own in the square came in the form of a towering punt which sat in the air long enough that Steven May could've travelled back in time, stayed with the Suns, and turned up to punch it through. 

Fritsch got the settler, but our recent inability to win centre clearances nearly came back to haunt again, when it pinged straight down their end, Lever failed to adequately disguise thumping the ball straight over the boundary line. Jed did us, and the hearing community, a solid by missing from the pocket.

The sense of panic that brought us down last week was displayed again when Jefferson marked just outside his range with 20 seconds left, had his rushed attempt at a pass (?) or shot (?) smothered, and watched the ball go the other way for the Suns to have a shot after the siren. For the second week in a row it was certainly not Jefferson's day, but we still shouldn't have let the ball transition so effortlessly down the other end. 

If Jefferson made a four course meal of his chance because he was worried about not being allowed to improve his angle, he'd have been crestfallen watching our alleged future friend Bailey Humphrey (crazy name, crazy guy?) deviate via the carpark during his run-up. Apparently that rule has gone the way of dissent, but compared to some of the NQR served up in the second half, it was practically normal. We had no grounds for complaint about conceding after having the ball under control 100 metres away just seconds earlier, but this was ridiculous. 

I'll give the umpires some leeway for trying to spot infringements in the heat of the moment (keep that in mind for the second half), but this was an open/shut, left/right case of rorting the angles to wind up for a longer kick. On the off chance that Humphrey joins us next year instead of the Judd/Houston/Derksen 'Sure Thing' club, I hope this goal inspires him to do great things. Otherwise, it was just negligent umpiring. Probably from the same person who could barely throw the ball high enough to clear Gawn's head, reducing the advantage in ruck contests from being massive.  

The start of the third quarter was all about us doing a replay of last week and feeding the opposition endless chances with horrible attempts to move the ball forward. Luckily Gold Coast are not Geelong, and after slaughtering multiple chances, it took a free kick right in front after Gawn may very well have handballed to get them on the board. The great man took this extremely poorly, and even though the dissent rule died before running off your line, a 50 wasn't required for them to kick it. It was the second time Max had done his block for the afternoon, following some random ruck free in the first half.

Things were looking a bit suspect, so thanks very much to the dickhead who took it on himself to hang shit on Gawn for this. After what had been a solid captain's game, he turned into Mad Max, sticking the team on his shoulders and getting us over the line. At this time, I'd like to express my fondness for his cameo appearances in defence, taking enormous marks at full extension to get us out of trouble. What a man. There is nothing left to say about how good he is, this far into a career that's had more disappointments than glory. 

Petty cancelled that goal out, before they got another free plucked straight from the anus at the top of the square. Umpires and all that, but any danger of not letting them get the ball down there so much in the first place? Even while watching on delay, I could sense people blaming the frees for a shock loss as a convenient way to ignore a shizen performance. See, for example, any of about 75 missed handballs around this time. 

Just when it looked like the Suns had regained the will to live, we battled back to provide them a much-needed excuse to fold tent for the 10th consecutive week. After goals to Laurie and Sharp, Fitzgerald got his second, recovering from a kick to Steele in the lead-up being declared 'not 15' after travelling about 25 metres. Things were looking up, even if constant commentary references to the live ladder were not helpful. Nor was Jiath leaning into his New Sam Frost role by botching an optimistic kick across defence. NSF then gave away a free for the next goal, but in this case he was arguably unlucky that the Suns player fell into his arm after initially colliding with a teammate. 

Enter van Rooyen, back at the ground where he spoiled that bloke into unconsciousness a few years ago, to keep us within a goal at the last break. For some reason, this prompted Touk Miller to hang shit on Bailey Fritsch's lovely hair. I hadn't even finished thinking about how one-sided a discussion of their great finals performances would be when we got the ball out of the middle to Petty for a kick after the siren. NOW the umpire decided to have a word with him about going off the line, because consistency is at the heart of everything the AFL does. He didn't need it, hammering through his shot from distance, without requiring a scam to improve his chances. 

Stiff shit if you'd backed the Suns to be ahead at three quarter time, or were Damien Hardwick. When Gawn was pinched holding the ball earlier he was shown having his biggest release in Queensland since [That's quite enough - Editor], but the fun was starting to run out now, and his expression returned to "Hello Darkness, my old friend" staring into the distance. I'm assuming he had other people with him in the coaches' box, but you never saw any of them. Maybe they were all giving a wide berth in case he lost the plot and started attacking the fittings Clarko-style. They showed him so many times that you even got to appreciate his choice of slimline black ballpoint pen. Which had nothing on the time it was revealed that Goodwin liked the sort of massive texta that's practically impossible to write legibly with. 

I thought we'd probably win from here, but even if anyone else in my house gave a rats about footy I wouldn't have dared say it out loud. Prospects of running over the top weren't helped by Howes breaking his arm while landing from a spoil - which is shithouse timing, having established himself as an automatic selection this year. Also not helpful when our injury list is getting out of control. The good news is Chandler and Turner aren't far away, and there's talk of Shock Jack Viney Finals Comeback II, but the last thing we need is to come this far and get diddled by a wave of misfortune to players who have important roles but are practically anonymous to the general public.

JVR took a huge contested mark and made it count by kicking straight, before the administrative free extravaganza continued with an umpire contact free from the centre bounce. Another farcical decision was cancelled by Windsor hitting a bomb on the run, and you sensed we were the better side but were still vulnerable to something stupid happening. Like, for example, mass injuries. With Howes already finished, Petty went off injured as well, which isn't surprising because you're never far from him having some sort of mystery condition. Last week it was wincing after kicking a goal as if his back was about to fall apart, this time it was some sort of random groin complaint. 

When Petty reemerged to ride the exercise bike I thought it was the type of token effort you get before a player is next seen wearing a tracksuit and looking glum, but him with the highest 'Odd Scenarios to Games Played' ratio in the game came back to pull down another top mark. He still had to kick it, but any question about his dicky groin playing havoc with the set shot routine was made irrelevant via a 50 against our old academy friend Mac Andrew, which left the kick to be taken from a range where he could've put it through even if the groin was torn in two. I'd like to think the 50 was for dissent, after weeks of our players openly going off their nut about decisions, but the way the umps were going in this game it's more likely they thought he'd run across the mark when nowhere near the play. 

There was a brief balance in the raft of wacky decisions when Pickett got a free kick for tripping over his own feet, but the joy of that heist only lasted until Jefferson took a perfectly good, strong contested mark which was taken off him on the basis that the umpire thought his opponent had touched it. Considering how often marks are paid when multiple hands have had a slice of it in the marking contest, this was the sort of decision you know wouldn't get paid in a 'big' game. Poor Jefferson, last week he was thieved out of a run down holding the ball, now this.

By now, I wanted to win for the finals implications AND to prove that you can overcome horrendous decisions if good enough. Not every loss is the fault of Umpiring Roulette; you can still exert superiority over the opposition regardless of them getting six goals to nil from frees. There wouldn't have been many takers for that philosophy if we'd lost. But no need for that, because here's Harvey Langford ghosting towards a contest at the top of the goal square and kicking what turned out to be the sealer.

With the game won, there was still time for the Suns to get another from a free kick. This one was actually there, and with 40 seconds to get two goals I wasn't yet ready to accept we were going to win. But we did, and thank god for that. Even with players dropping like flies and the AFL sooking up about teams resting players in the last round again, our mad campaign rolls on. I still don't see how it can end in ultimate success, but I'm open to having my heart broken while finding out. After taking the 2022/2023 finals exits surprisingly well, I sense that flag anaesthetic has finally worn off and I may die of internal injuries if we're knocked out in a thriller.

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Max Gawn
4 - Jake Bowey
3 - Koltyn Tholstrup
2 - Bayley Fritsch
1 - Jacob van Rooyen

Apologies to Fitzgerald, Langdon, Lever, McDonald, Petty, Rivers, and Sparrow.

Leaderboard
We're effectively done here, and the only reason I'm not declaring Maximum to be YOUR provisional Jakovich winner is to avoid a potential jinx. The real action is in the Seecamp, which has suddenly become a three-corner contest between Turner, Bowey, and Lever. Fitzgerald holds on to the narrowest possible lead in the Jones.

53 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
36 - Kysaiah Pickett
--- Needs at least two finals ---
29 - Tom Sparrow
--- Needs at least three finals ---
27 - Jack Steele
--- Unlikely without some remarkable, unusual turn of events ---
20 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
19 - Jacob van Rooyen
18 - Jake Bowey
16 - Jake Lever
13 - Ed Langdon
--- Cannot win ---
12 - Harvey Langford
10 - Bayley Fritsch
9 - Kade Chandler, Koltyn Tholstrup
7 - Harrison Petty
6 - Caleb Windsor
4 - Brody Mihocek
2 - Blake Howes, Matthew Jefferson, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Sharp kicked a good snap in the first quarter, and Windsor's goal on the run was nice, but it must be the Petty megablast after the three quarter time siren. Set the table for the last quarter, and didn't require the umpire to ignore him diverting via the carpark in the leadup. Cross on King's Birthday still leads.

Next week
Win, lose, or draw, you'll have a better idea of our capability for causing September commotion after playing runaway league leader Freo. They beat us easily at their place early in the season, but plenty of water under the bridge since then. Even at the dear old MCG, I'm not expecting any amazing breakthroughs, so will be treating this as a finals pre-season game right up until the bit where it looks like we might win, at which point it will take on all the importance of a Grand Final. 

Not much for selection fanatics from a VFL game where the lowly Casey lost to an even lowlier Gold Coast after being five goals up. Taylor was good, so best give him another crack against top opposition before the finals. Otherwise, Kentfield kicked five, but even after two down weeks we have to stick with Jefferson. Kent is an option if required, and I dream of last minute Melksham, but now is not the time for radical changes. With any luck, Round 24 will be.    

IN: Taylor + Chandler/Turner if fit
OUT: Howes (inj) - McDonald/Cross if required.
LUCKY: Cross, Jefferson
UNLUCKY: Kentfield, Melksham, L. Pickett

The All-New Bradbury Plan
I'd love to think about the top four, but given that our three nearest opponents are playing Flotsam, Jetsam, and Shitsam next week, let's discuss that again after a shock win over Freo. This week we have three categories:

The possible
Hawthorn d. Brisbane

The unlikely
West Coast d. Collingwood
North Melbourne d. Footscray

The fanciful:
Richmond d. Adelaide
Essendon d. Geelong

+ Sydney to beat up Port Adelaide in a manner that encourages the Power to pull up stumps for the year and let us win without drama the week after. And St Kilda over Carlton to reduce the chances of us getting no benefit from finishing 7th and contributing to the heartwarming Josh Fraser fairytale. And GWS over Gold Coast for draft pick purposes.

Final thoughts
Well, now that we're here, let's just have a massive FO ping at the business end of the season shall we?

There or thereabouts

There endeth the great MCG run of 2026. Nine wins in a row after starting the season thinking we'd be lucky to get that in total. We'll find out later if it's remembered as the start of something big, a historical curiosity, or a big fat false alarm. What's important, if you're all-in on Melbourne doing something spectacular in 2026, is that this was a missed opportunity to entrench ourselves in the Real Finals race. 

It would be wrong to say we failed the test - this was like scoring 60% when you need 75% to pass. Better than average, getting a lot of things right, but not fully rising to the task. It matters nowt because we didn't get the premiership points, but at least our return to a spotlight game unrelated to a public holiday had enough for both us and the broadcasters to take away for the future. Our last start against Geelong on this ground had the advantage of ending in a win - but other than Fritsch kicking one of the great sealers, the quality of play was the biggest disaster for Channel 7 since that balloon art show.  More importantly, it was the last gasp of our premiership era, as the briefly popular (with me anyway) Goodwin style of defending the opposition to death was about to cave in. 

Despite the result, I suspect we've just seen a much better example of what the future holds. Maybe not. You never know when things will randomly go tits up around here, but enough was done right to offer as much confidence as possible that things are heading in the right direction. There are red flags like attempting to play the footy equivalent of speeding on a wet road while pissed to the eyeballs, but if all goes well, the balance between thrilling (first quarter) and frantic (the rest) ball movement will be found, leading to bountiful profit.

After the 96 point peak of the Hawthorn game, we've been good but not great, but I was open to a prime time statement against the AFL's most unflushable nugget. In the opening minutes, that looked like a serious prospect, as our slice and dice kicks picked the opposition apart, and effortlessly moved the ball from one end to the other. Spoiler - unchallenged movement of ball would continue for the rest of the game, just not in the direction you might have hoped. For now, it was big game feeling/big game football. There was even a reminder of the joy of forward Pickett when he briefly said FO to his tagger, and snapped a ripper. The tagger took this personally, and after a few minutes of unrestricted Pickettry, our man barely featured again.

Our second goal had a less decisive finish, with Steele bursting out of the middle and bombing a kick towards the square which held up just enough for Petty to get a [something below the knee] to it at the last second. He reacted with the guilty expression of somebody not wanting to celebrate too much in case it was taken away on review. But it was not, setting up a two goal lead. Which didn't last long, because in a hint of what was to come x15, their reply goals came on the counter after our attacks failed.

Like Sydney and Adelaide, the common thread to a fun, high scoring (for us) quarter was the result, and the general dying in the arse of our scoring after half time. Forget the end result, it was an improvement on letting North Melbourne have 15 minutes to look like the AFL's equivalent to the 1970 Brazil World Cup side. 

The difference between the first quarter and the rest of the game was that we were still finding marks inside 50. They almost always ended in a score of 0-1 points, but it was better than the numerous -6 point plays set up by either punting it directly to their defenders, or allowing the ball to be rocketed off the ground, and in the opposite direction via any of a dozen players forming an orderly queue stringing from our end to the other goalsquare.

A week after being declared the hottest man in football, van Rooyen was the official spokesman for the whole team's performance. He started the night like a house on fire, with a hand in everything early, before sailing into the Bermuda Triangle once Chris Scott decided he wasn't having any more of our footloose, fancy free footy. They can't all be classics, but in case you're thinking about despairing, I'd like to table evidence in the form of his shit hot squaring kick to set up Tholstrup for one of our rare accurate set shots. I'll take goals from any source, but any chance one of the players without a rubbish song could convert instead?

After missing gettable kicks, we got lucky when Geelong were denied a mark in near-unmissable position due to a hold that was there, but would be missed by umpires most of the time. There was another one right at the end of the quarter where the ball carried the pack, went through, but was called back in similar circumstances. Fans of a club so well looked after that they got a free home ground on the taxpayer coin, and who have basically been a finals fixture for 30 years, carried on like they were the victims of a massive conspiracy, before going on to do what they've done for the majority of that time and beat us comfortably.

In addition to playing victim for both goal-saving free kicks, Lever was the best thing about the first quarter other than the goals. In the absence of Turner, the returning Cooke was learning that you can't play Essendon every week, but Lever was a tremendous presence. Unlike the people who were trying to trade him to North at the end of 2025, I didn't think he was finished after an injury-riddled season, but didn't expect him to be back to his best this year. Can't have many years left, but all hail the MFC's Director of Bomb Disposal in the meantime. May he stay around long enough for us to remember how not to feed rebound attacks to the opposition on a silver platter.  

The first off-the-ball free eventually led to Fritsch marking at the top of the square, courtesy of Harry Sharp taking multiple bounces from the wing and cutting back into the middle of the ground in a fashion that makes you want to punch on about him spending half last year as a sub. One of the most pointless, rambling articles of the year tried to bring up - out of nowhere - how badly treated Goodwin allegedly was last year. My counter-argument to this nonsense would be to hold a lifesize cardboard cutout of Sharp in one hand, and vigorously point at it with the other. I'm not faking outrage by pretending the previous administration cost Sharp the 2025 Brownlow, but it does seem odd to recruit a guy with elite endurance running, then sit him on the bench for 3/4 of every game while the team was screaming for some excitement and dash.

Speaking of dash, what about Pickett (L) flying down the ground, towards an empty forward 50 and having about five bounces when he'd have gotten away with one? End result - no question about being pinged for running too far, but the pressure invited by slowing down to bounce it every few metres meant the kick on the run missed. Usually I'm all about not coaching the instinct out of players, but here's a case where serious anti-instinct coaching is required. No need to turn him into a generic footballing robot, but just dial it back a bit from 'do what you feel' if possible.  

And so, we led by two goals. Which was welcome. But not by the opposition coach, who said "We won't be having any more of that, thanks" and sent his team out to harass the bejesus out of us. The pressure level went through the roof, and we didn't react well, either getting stuck trying to escape the defensive 50 via panic kicks, or finally broke through, only for the attack to die because our key forwards were a non-factor. The second usually led back to the first, and it wasn't just the usual suspects stitching us up. They had two people called Oliver, one who looked like a discount Daicos brother, and the other the lead singer of an early 2000s emo band. And a second game forward who the commentators had such a mighty horn for that they must have bought a share of his future career earnings.     

After practically everybody else on our list missed a set shot in the first quarter, the second finally featured the long-awaited first attempt on goal by a player called Lucas Cook(e). Despite attempts to talk up his previous history as a forward, he shanked buggery out of it and briefly went back to being jumped all over by the bloke who looks like Kryten. Eventually, the mismatch became too much, and he was benched in favour of McSizzle - who had obviously been picked to jointly play the Max Heath 25% of time on ground role AND provide cover for the Turner-less backline. The first option would've meant him playing forward at some point, which was important to any chance I've got of being proven right in claiming that he should've played last year. 

Sadly, the prospect of an intergalactic space robot kicking 14 proved too risky, and it was back to defence for a big night of arguing with umpires. He did save us a goal with a robust appeal that the ball had deflected off his arm, which was proven by the old "they review everything" review. Stupid rule change suggestion corner - incidental contact shouldn't cancel goals. Fair enough if it comes off a hand or a foot, but I'd rather just give the goal like it would've been awarded for 110 years rather than going to VAR levels of holding your joy waiting to see if the ball skidded off the skin of a player's arm. But in this case it saved us, so very good, carry on.

I'm still not convinced we should be so willing to participate in shootouts, so didn't think much of giving goals to Laurie and Petty back cheaply. And then things really started to go downhill, as we stopped scoring, and Geelong were only restrained from doing serious damage by some shithouse goalkicking. After McDonald saved us with his enthusiastic charades earlier, he gave away a free for Neale's fourth by hanging off his arm like he was attempting a kidnapping. Given how dominant he was in the first half, I have no idea how Neale didn't go on to kick 10. So that's something - no matter how minor - to be happy about.

We're capable of piling on a run of surprise goals, but the style of game had turned so far against us that my best hope of getting back into it was injury concerns to Stewart (clutching at shoulder) and Dangerfield (clutching at dick). Then, a last ditch chance to keep the margin down at half time died when another Pickett (L) pissbolt tried to pass to JVR, who wasn't expecting it, and the ball didn't reach him anyway. Not our finest moment, but made worse by Geelong then going the other way under no pressure, and finding a player standing on his own with one second left. This was the key example of difference between the sides - we were in this game, but couldn't keep the ball down our end long enough to stifle and annoy Geelong. I wouldn't rule out winning if we played them again this year, which is no help now as we try to avoid being dragged into a Wildcard Wankfest.

There was no calming down at half time, as we continued to play rattled under pressure. Almost every option taken was the wrong one, and it was only the generosity of the other side that stopped the margin from blowing out. Finally, Fritsch plucked a spoil out of mid-air and snapped to keep it interesting. We got first hands on the following centre bounce and still nearly gave up the reply. Around this time, Shannon Byrnes was shown on the Geelong bench - and if anyone knows about a Melbourne side adrift and unable to make an impact on the opposition... Well, him and about 300 other ex-players, several who are now assistant coaches.

The JVR and Jeffo hot streaks both ended at the same time, but they could only do so much with the blood-dripping butchery of the ball movement coming their way - if it even got past the middle to start with. We were within range of a burst comeback, and were somehow winning the quarter against the tide, but even as the margin remained sanitary, you sensed that Geelong wasn't going to suddenly lose their mind like we had in the second quarter. Our lack of poise was best demonstrated by Pickett (K) fresh-airing the ball while trying to dribble it through an opposition player's legs from an obscure angle while Jefferson stood in the square waiting for the freebie. In another game, the nutmeg works and is on every highlight reel until the end of time. Here, the failure just contributed to the air of panicked retreat.

Pickett's whiff did lead, in a roundabout way, to Langford kicking a delightful set shot from distance/angle, which gave us the only two goals of the quarter. Then another mad turnover wasted the second, and all our backs-to-the-wall effort for the quarter went close to being wiped out in an instant from the centre bounce. To the credit of our lot, they didn't go away, and after a few more wasted chances Fritsch was gifted a goal after two defenders ran into each other. The renewed good times lasted until Langford was knobbed by one of the most administrative 50s ever seen, running too close to a player who had NO IDEA he was there. It was the ultimate in correct application of shit rule.

We had a chance to go into the final quarter with some momentum, but a Gawn megabomb misfired and failed to score, leading to Petty demanding a last touch free kick when the ball was still inside the 50. Mock him for allegedly not knowing the rules, but one day an umpire will lose their mind and pay one.

Considering our shit finishes in recent weeks, I wasn't confident of romping over the top with a big finish. There were a few moments of hope. Pickett (K) latched on to the first bounce of the final term, hammered forward, and despite flubbing the bounce, it ended in a Langdon set shot/goal. Sharp missed the next one, but 11 points with most of the quarter left was suddenly a manageable gap. They had injuries, we had something to prove etc... etc... 

But no, that was as good as it got. Geelong fumbled the ball from one end to the other for a goal and the door was slammed shut with force. The only remaining interest was whether we'd get some sort of lucrative undies sponsorship - original Pickett deliberately plays with his shorts down so you can see his undercrackers, then Chandler's strides were pulled down to reveal a lovely floral number. None of this was to blame for the endless string of shit kicks to nobody's benefit, while the opposition usually had half their side roaming free without anyone in the vicinity. 

Fans of judging players on body language alone will have loved the look on Jefferson's face when he finally got another shot care of a downfield free kick. It went about as well as he expected it to, but on a down night he can at least be happy with a monster chasedown tackle later in the quarter... which went unrewarded when the umpire deemed the Geelong player to have gotten a handball away despite him lobbing it in the air like a slapstick character slipping on a banana peel. Refer previous posts about being sympathetic to umpires but there's got to be some minimum standards of what they see. For god's sake get these ones right or the mad bastards in charge of the game will cut matches to 40 minutes so there's time to video review everything.

Soon enough we were dead, before it was our turn to ruin somebody else's percentage gains by banging on a few cheap and cheerful junk time goals. Petty nearly got five for the night, if not for a review that showed light bumping of ball into post, and it would be rude to focus on the ones that came when the game was over, because he was our only shining light forward all night. I concede that the science has settled on which end he should play at.

After shouldering a mighty load all season, Gawn was clearly not enjoying himself in the dying minutes. A loose handball led to a goal, then he looked like he was about to dismember somebody after giving away his second 'crossing the line' free of the evening at the next bounce, and once the game was confirmed dead, the great man stood still and let an opponent run around him without even putting a token arm out. And if anyone has earned the right to pull out in the dreg minutes of a game, it's the greatest of all time. May the energy he conserved at this time be channelled into carrying us towards a glorious conclusion to the season. 

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Jake Lever
4 - Bayley Fritsch
3 - Jack Steele
2 - Koltyn Tholstrup
1 - Harrison Petty

Apologies to Gawn, Sharp, and Sparrow. 

Leaderboard
Four confirmed games left + a maximum of five finals if we're going down the 'making a mockery of the competition' wildcard route. Every week Gawn's lead is unchallenged, the chances of unseating him shrink further. The big news is in the Seecamp, where Lever is roaring towards Turner and setting up a grandstand finish.

48 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
36 - Kysaiah Pickett
29 - Tom Sparrow
--- Needs at least one final ---
27 - Jack Steele
--- Needs at least two finals ---
20 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
18 - Jacob van Rooyen
16 - Jake Lever
--- Needs at least three finals ---
14 - Jake Bowey
13 - Ed Langdon
--- Needs at least three finals ---
12 - Harvey Langford
9 - Kade Chandler
--- Needs at least four finals ---
8 - Bayley Fritsch
--- Come on now ---
7 - Harrison Petty
6 - Koltyn Tholstrup, Caleb Windsor
4 - Brody Mihocek
--- Cannot win under any circumstances ---
2 - Blake Howes, Matthew Jefferson, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
In a demonstration of the state of shambles this page has been in all season, I've only just realised that this feature has been placed after the preview of the following game, which makes no sense. Anyway, apologies to the Langford set shot, but let's give it to Petty for his third sky high snap of the season. Added degree of difficulty points from him suffering a mystery injury while doing it. Cross vs Collingwood remains in front. 

Next week
It's full disarray Gold Coast, coming off a string of results that would've got a coach not indirectly employed by the AFL sacked. For a game that neutrals will not give two shits about, there's plenty of storylines to consider. The belated reunion with Petracca, the value of first round we've got coming to us increasing every time they lose, and the various real/fake finals implications for both sides. Hardwick obviously hates the wildcard as much as any sensible person, declaring the Suns' season over a couple of weeks ago when they're still a chance of sneaking in via the no dignity door. And if we lose, that door might be looming in our future.

Watching the various struggles of Cooke and McDonald, I just assumed Turner was coming back next week. Having obviously missed the midweek injury reports, it turns out he's done for 1-3 more weeks. Which is dreadful news considering the form he was in, and the obvious gaping hole he left behind on Friday night.

I know Melksham's career energy bar is blinking red, but we need his experience + the mastery of dark arts demonstrated by him shoving a North defender out of the way for somebody to mark last week. After his VFL warm-up, Salem also comes back with the hope of providing veteran calm. And as much as I'm sad about a post-Sizzle future, I'd rather 25% Heath off the bench and we back in Cooke to defend no matter what. Bit risky without Turner or (probably?) Jiath, but it will help if we stop the ball getting inside 50 at the warpiest of speeds.

It's a long time since the anti-football Petracca vs Oliver GC/GWS Grand Final was a realistic option, so how about we do the morally correct thing and rid the competition of this turbulent franchise for another year? 

IN: Heath, Melksham, Salem
OUT: L. Pickett (inj), Laurie, McDonald (omit)
LUCKY: Nil?
UNLUCKY: Nil

The All-New Bradbury Plan
It's been too difficult to do this while top four/top six/top 10 calculations were all in play. Now, I've settled on us aiming to finish at least sixth, so we'll wish ill of other teams on that basis.

Geelong d. Collingwood
Fremantle d. Footscray
North d. Hawthorn
Essendon d. Adelaide

And Port d. GWS/Sydney d. St Kilda as bonus picks for top 10 players. Carlton/Brisbane mostly irrelevant to top 6 plans, so probably better if the Lions win.

Final thoughts
There's still life in this long, weird, but enjoyable season yet. Whether it's enough to sustain us through August - let alone September - is another matter.

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K(ing)

Nothing says 'unexpectedly good season' like sitting comfortably inside the finals race, winning twice as often as losing, but also being a little bit disappointed with conceding meaningless junk time goals. This completed the rare hat-trick of allowing a top team, middle team, and bottom team to all take something from a game they should've gone home miserable about. Enjoy the dignity, we'll console ourselves with 12 premiership points.

Halfway through the first quarter, we were bleeding goals at such a rapid rate that allowing humanitarian scoring late in the last quarter seemed highly unlikely. Our biggest vulnerability in this otherwise blessed season has been allowing quick movement inside 50, there was plenty of that on offer. Lever and Turner made heroic attempts to hold back the tide, but fell victim to the overall 'standing around, staring blankly' role of Hawthorn in Launceston. Our recovery was less explosive, but by virtue of not getting 96 points down in the first place, it achieved the right result without undue stress or worry.

Now that we've won, the obvious highlight of the first quarter was Charlie Spargo doing exactly what you'd expect and having the time of his Arden Street life against us. Charleston has lifetime Premiership player legend status, but I'm reliably informed he's not done much for lots of money at North. Then, 18 games into the year it looked like he'd been holding back for this occasion. Two goals - admittedly one from a free, and another after a belated going-away present shizen turnover - and was in everything. My theory that he's a cherry on top player when your side's going well received a boost when he proceeded to do bugger all for the rest of the game as North were slowly overhauled, and gently put away with the footy equivalent of a perfumed silk pillow held over the face.

Now that you know what happened, it's a source of pride (?) that we corrected course and kept them quiet until the result was sealed, but at the time, they looked on for an enormous score. Once we stemmed the bleeding, things didn't look so bad, but it was hot knife meeting butter for a few minutes. Apparently Jack Darling is still playing, and has been going so long that we've had time to draft another Lucas Cook(e). I choose to treat it as a valuable learning experience now, and even while they were on pace to kick about 48 goals, I was struggling to get outraged due to the expectation that we'll always do something muppetish when starting as favourites.

It wasn't all one way traffic, and there were Pickett family goals amongst the carnage, but nothing to even feign excitement about, because it was otherwise one-way traffic to the left of screen. After the second, Dwayne blew his stack and declared Latrelle "Fists the air!" 'Punches' the air will do fine next time, thanks. Later, Russell rushed to clarify his description of JVR as the "hottest player in the league" by making sure we knew he was talking about footy, just in case you thought he was keen on a spot of Jacob van Rooting.

Last week, we were negligent in not mentioning the spaghetti-armed boundary umpire who couldn't throw the ball in far enough. Either he, or somebody else with malfunctioning upper limbs was back for this game. Your mate Dwayne offered much-needed support for the beleaguered umpiring fraternity by trying to blame the ruckmen for standing too far back, even though every viewer with eyesight could see that the ball had practically been thrown straight up in the air. Could I piff a footy over my head into the exact right spot every time and/or commentate an AFL game? No, and not if I have to call opposition players.

Just when things were looking grim, enter Jefferson, who officially crossed over from 'emerging' to 'promising' in two minutes. We've established that he takes marks, but so far the set shots have been generously described as "a touch dodgy". From the resulting centre bounce, there was a ruck free where neither side had any idea who it was going to, and even Jack Steele nearly stopped mid play-on, waiting for confirmation. Somehow, this ended in another perfect kick for Jefferson, who went back-to-back and left Melbourne fans everywhere collectively saying: "Yes please, I'll have some more of that". 

As we've seen from the up/down career arc of the league's hottest player, just take the signs of promise and don't expect he's going to do this every week. But now we've confirmed he is capable, and he's got every reason to believe in himself, then *rubs hands together in anticipation*.

Those goals got us out of jail, cutting the margin back to what still felt like an undeserved 12 points. Still, now I was open to the prospect of gradually wearing them down across the next three quarters and winning. The phrase TITS UP re-entered the atmosphere after conceding the first. In his 'can't play Richmond' every week comedown game, Fitzgerald saw Pickett (K) dancing around the boundary line and spelunking through tight spaces, thought "I'll give that a go", was caught HTB, and contributed in a roundabout way to us conceding.

If you were worried that goal was going to inspire North to run riot again (hello), I'm pleased to announce it was a false alarm. They only got one more before the game was shot, and that's with Turner going off after a knee to the ribs. In other injury news, we had Pickett going off wiping blood from his mouth, but still stopping for a neighbourly slap of hands with Tom Sparrow on the way off. Bad luck Tom, it means you're now linked by blood as well as flag, and are legally required to sign a contract extension. 

After one of the best games of his career, I'm coming to terms with him definitely leaving at the end of the year. Which is all sorts of shit just as Jack Viney falls apart in multiple ways, and while Steele only has a few years left. Maybe if we'd played him at more than 6.6% of centre bounces last year, they'd have sorted the contract out before the rest of the competition discovered who he was. Maybe it'll end up with Langford going bananas in the middle? 

The tide was on the verge of turning, but not before we were egregiously jibbed out of a 50 when three separate offences were detected. First the North player yelled at the umpire, then he wouldn't give the ball back to Bowey, then finally delivered it as a petulant piff that whistled straight into the fence. I'm sympathetic to umpires not being able to determine whether a kick went 14.9 metres, but would've thought the ball getting lobbed into the fence was a blatant enough misdeed to warrant a ceremonial 50 from the back pocket.

No need to go full "We were rorted" conspiracy though, because the unintentional square-up was what looked a lot like a red-hot holding the ball in front of goal being paid a dangerous tackle. Things turned back in our direction after van Rooyen pulled off the Holy Trinity of a great lead, and a strong contested mark, and an accurate set shot. Like Jefferson in the opening quarter, JVR got another chance straight away. Arguably, the whack around the bonce disguised as an alleged 'spoil' should've ended in a 50 but no. He missed this one, but somehow we were only two goals behind despite having spent the first half holding on for dear life.

Against all good sense and logic, we made half time just four points behind courtesy of Original Recipe Pickett setting up Latrelle's second through midfield rompage. His kick carried the pack and landed in (L)'s arms with back to goal, before he played on with excessive haste, spinning around, and adding the extra degree of difficulty by kicking it on the 'wrong' side for a shot from that distance/angle. For a second, I thought it hit the post and was about to throw the biggest tantrum in recent history. Turns out it just bounced back off the fence, thank god.

Once Sharp put us in front early in the third term, the disappointments of the first half were forgotten. We even got a genuine seven point play when a kick-in was punted straight to Jefferson, who curled home a snap for his third of a career best four. We nearly gave it straight back, saved by a pox North set shot.

As Turner's ribcage exploded again, you won't be surprised to discover that we failed to put the foot down. The end-to-end transition was better, but what chance just cartwheeling away from a side in these circumstances? I was ready to forgive Jefferson for missing a chance at his fourth, even before he pulled down a mark at the back of the pack in the square (assisted by Melksham shoving a North player with vigorous force) and dinked it through from the line. There was nearly a Reverse DemonTime fiasco when they missed a shot with one second left, but overall very nice stuff. If you had any faith in our ability to hold a lead, things were looking up.

When Sparrow got one 20 seconds into the last quarter, there was some absurdly early (but, to be fair, correct) "they can smell victory" presumption from the commentary box. The cynical would say it was just to set up the gag involving Sparrow having a blood nose blocked up. Meanwhile, something in Jiath's leg burst, leaving us two defenders down and with Gawn forced into a cameo defender role. After the siren, he proved his versatility by mediating an argument between Max Heath and Tristan Xerri. Despite spending about 75% of the game on the bench, the death blow was struck by Heath, after plummeting to the ground when pushed semi-forcefully in the back.

After dominating the second half, we gave away a couple of consolations at the end to make the margin less impressive. Considering the injuries, I'm happy just to overcome a difficult start and win comfortably. Like many of our victories this year, it was workmanlike, professional, and won't be remembered next year. Perhaps the most notable incident was this most baffling post-match photo:

Old mates. 🥹 You're forever a '21 premiership player, Spargs. #DemonSpirit pic.twitter.com/VDTRbf1T8F

— Melbourne Demons (@melbournefc) July 18, 2026

Copies are available at the Demon Shop, signed by Jacob van Rooyen, Tom Sparrow, Jake Melksham, Bayley Fritsch, and Ricky Nixon. 

I don't see anything wrong with this - especially because we won - but it doesn't make it any less odd. We've played against Jordon, Jackson, Oliver, and ANB without pausing for a happy memories snap, then all of a sudden, here's a sheepish Spargo roped into posing with a collection of random teammates, half fellow flag winners, one guy who didn't play in the final, and another who wasn't on the list for the greatest day in human civilisation. 

If the tables were reversed, we'd have fans blowing up about it, so it's reassuring to see North fans in their 'Veil of Negativity' era, where it feels like things are going ok but should be better, do their block over something that means stuff all in the grand scheme of things. Tell you what matters - finishing in the top six, and we're well on the way towards that. Seventh to 10th? I'll take it if that's all you're offering.  

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Tom Sparrow
4 - Kysaiah Pickett
3 - Jake Lever
2 - Matthew Jefferson
1 - Jack Steele

Apologies to Bowey, Fritsch, Gawn, Rivers, Tholstrup, and van Rooyen.

Leaderboard
25 home and away votes left, but we're now better than a 99% chance of playing at least one more game, which is nice. There's a heartbeat in the Jako race, with Pickett slashing the gap to two and a half BOGs. You'd still want to be on Maximum to win overall. On that note, there's no point pretending he's provisionally won the Stynes, let's upgrade that to a not-remotely-surprising confirmed victory. Turner remains +1 BOG ahead in the Seecamp, and surprise leader Fitzgerald remains atop the otherwise empty Rising Star field.

48 - Max Gawn (WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
36 - Kysaiah Pickett
29 - Tom Sparrow
24 - Jack Steele
--- Needs at least one final ---
20 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
18 - Jacob van Rooyen
--- Needs at least two finals ---
14 - Jake Bowey
13 - Ed Langdon
--- Needs at least three finals ---
12 - Harvey Langford
11 - Jake Lever
9 - Kade Chandler
--- Needs something ridiculous to happen ---
6 - Harrison Petty, Caleb Windsor
4 - Bayley Fritsch, Brody Mihocek, Koltyn Tholstrup
2 - Blake Howes, Matthew Jefferson, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award)

Next week
As the Richmond game only gets a top timeslot because of the occasion, Geelong on Friday night is our on merit return to prime time. They made a hundred changes this week and won comfortably anyway, which is no surprise because you couldn't shift these bastards from finals contention with an atomic bomb.

This week, Casey went to Arden Street, the only ground where the timekeeping offering includes milliseconds. In the bits I watched when the AFL website wasn't crashing, there were plenty of decent performances in a win, but nothing outstanding. I was thrilled to see the return of Forward Sizzle. This was either tactical or insurance against Petty's hamstring dissolving. You decide.

Jiath is confirmed cactus for several weeks, and I'm assuming Turner will be rested. I'm all for giving Cooke another go, and Salem didn't do a massive amount but played a full game, so get him back in.

You may instead choose to take the views of somebody who watched the game properly, instead of through a live stream that missed the first four minutes of the last quarter because somebody had either knocked the cord out or just forgot to turn it back on.

I confess to having NFI about the Geelong result. Feels like it'll be the 'loss we had to have', but at the same time, there's a great argument for winning. Which is just the sort of in-depth analysis I know you come here for. 

IN: Cooke, Salem
OUT: Jiath (inj), Turner (inj)
LUCKY: Melksham, Windsor
UNLUCKY: Cross, McDonald

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
The Sharp one? Or Latrelle's turnaround as payback for thinking he'd missed. Either way, Cross vs Collingwood leads.

Final thoughts
More wins, give me all the wins, let me swim through wins like Scrooge McDuck in his vault of money.

Water way to have a good time

Now that the AFL season is one long quest for clickbait, it's harder than ever to find a glamour match. Despite our status as the league's #1 surprise packet, and a sudden ability to score 100 points while not looking overly impressive, this was never going to have neutrals queuing around the block for a ticket. And that's before it pissed down for 75% of the afternoon. 

Even Richmond fans couldn't be bothered, making up a pittance of the alleged 32,000 in attendance. Can't blame them. If you offered three flags in exchange for several years of putrid football afterwards I'd sign before reading the contract, but it would be hard to feign excitement for the long, tedious process of losing to everyone while rebuilding. It was one thing suffering through the depths of the #fistedforever years when there was a half chance of the club carking it before returning to finals, I can't imagine what it's like to go from Dustin Martin et al to an injury-ravaged side that's 25% premiership heroes on their lap of honour, and 75% raw kids with stuff all in the middle.

The good news for newly long-suffering Tigers fans is that if there's any finals contender they could rely on not to heap further misery on their 2-14, worst percentage in the competition season, it was us. At the start of the season I thought we'd wreck a team eventually, but it's been a year of letting the underprivileged down gently. We're now finished with our games against the league's undisputed worst sides and have beaten Richmond x2, West Coast x1 and Essendon x1 without ever going too far over the top. 

Other than the massive Sydney '93 style anomaly of letting one of them win their only game for the year, there's no serious grounds for complaint. In another universe we'd struggle to win four times all season, so I'm grateful/somewhat astonished to be in the frame to make the real finals. Still plenty of action before we know that for sure, but a foothold has been established, and I'm extremely grateful to coaches and players alike for that.

Doesn't mean you'd ever watch the replay of this again. It was a professional win, where we put down brief early resistance to do as expected without over-extension, injuries or suspension. Obviously, I'd love to have piled on 10 goals to nil in the last quarter and cracked the ton but until we get tipped out of some important ladder position by the barest of percentage margins, then a good old fashioned four points will do me nicely.

No matter how far the ledger is tipped in our favour, I've always got a "this could go horribly wrong" feeling. This wasn't helped by first losing Fritsch, then Petty to mystery injuries. Just as the former got back into goalkicking form, and the latter returned to play an important part in our forward line. We shouldn't have needed them against the reigning worst defence in the competition - and didn't - but the panic button part of my brain wanted to believe danger was afoot. That we'd somehow combine reduced forward power and wet weather to lose 58-52 in a reverse of Essendon 2012. It never went close, but you know the only saying about following Melbourne - best to think the worst and be pleasantly surprised.

During the week I annoyed a Richmond fan by accidentally saying Melbourne "Just need to beat the shit teams", and was subject to a lecture about how they're "not shit" but [insert list of excuses]. Sorry but you've won nine games in three seasons, it's best to accept your place in life. Doesn't mean it will be that way forever, but carrying on about promising young players and injuries doesn't detract from the fact that right now your senior coach has a worse win/loss record than Mark Neeld.

I'm not here to solve Richmond's problems, because other than Adem Yze's feelings I don't care, but they're really lacking the Bernie Vince/Daniel Cross/Jordan Lewis style experienced ring-ins from other sides. Yay for having several multiple-time premiership players in the side, but surely they're all depressed by now. They need players with a couple of years left and something to prove to bridge the gap between promising kids and fading veterans. Good luck with that, feel free to keep losing to us twice a year for another few seasons. 

The only thing Outraged Richmond Man got right was saying "van Rooyen will kick goals against us". Though the logic that "he always does" was a bit faulty. By this point I was desperate to escape the conversation so I didn't argue it at the time, even though Petty was the only person I remember kicking anything close to a bag against the Tiges in their declining years. Turned out it was cobblers, unless you stop the clock at 2023, when JVR got seven of his eight previous career goals against Richmond. But he got plenty here, and that's all that mattered.

When van Rooyen beat his opponent all-ends-up for the first mark and goal it looked like he might double his career tally against Richmond in the first half alone. For the first five minutes all the play was at our end, and there was the definite hint of floodgate opening. Before, in a none-more-Melbourne twist, we found ourselves trailing, courtesy of failure to press home advantage. This came via the scrappiest lead-up play to a goal you'll ever see, then a first gamer called 'Peucker' doing his own goal assist by botching a bounce that propelled the ball forward enough to allow him to keep running, regather and kick it. 

We remain vulnerable to quick transition, but I can't take teams succeeding by propelling the ball forward by any means necessary. The positive is that good teams don't play like this, so as long as we make finals it won't be fatal. They should've kept doing this, it was more successful than trying to kick goals properly - at which point Lever/Turner went into Lever/May overdrive and stopped everything. And when ball hit ground off went Bowey in the opposite direction at 100km/h, without an opponent in the vicinity. This was all very nice, but it was telling how much less dangerous we looked whenever Gawn went off. 

Late second ruck entrant Johnson had a crack, as you'd expect from somebody who looks like Nathan Jones' evil twin, but our reliance on Max - even when playing a good but not great game - is... interesting? It's not a bad thing for the 85% of the 100% of games when he's on the ground, but it won't be an earthshaking surprise when eventually our season dies because we concede three goals in three minutes while he's having a rest. You could get away with it here, but there are vastly bigger tests to come.

Meanwhile, the even later late change Jake Melksham is now into the top 10 of oldest players to ever take the field for Melbourne, and after looking half-shot in his previous two appearances, he spent the first quarter launching a bid for the best ever performance by somebody not originally named in the side. He set up van Rooyen's first, kicked two of his own, and was in full 'winding back of clock' mode before not doing a lot more than missing a couple of set shots but it was still very enjoyable. The Hollywood ending of him and May tearfully reuniting on the dais post-flag is finished, but even if he's best relied on as one of the moving parts rather than a single-handed match winner, he could still contribute to surprise finals action.

Otherwise, the first quarter was about as casual as we're ever going to be in opening a game with five goals. It was simply good, solid stuff, quietly shutting the door on a side who deserved to have it slammed in their face. The only real let down was when, after van Rooyen's second, we stormed out of the middle for Jefferson to mark 40 metres out, directly in front for what should've been a double. He missed this, and his next two set shots as well, but I'll take somebody who knows how to get the ball but can't kick straight over a key forward who is accurate but needs to be ball delivered on a first-class silver platter every time. 

The straight kicking will either come with experience and confidence, and until then he's convincing enough in the air that it forces the opposition to pay him attention, instead of all swarming towards JVR whenever the ball goes inside 50. In a Mihocek-less end to the season, playing decoy for the main event and chipping in with goals here could make him an important player at the spicy end of the season. A van Rooyen/Jefferson/Petty tall forward group is the dictionary definition of 'unconventional', but I can see it working - if we can tighten up the crumb when they don't mark it. 

After barging into the 'best player in the universe' conversation, Pickett (K) has been off for a few weeks, and we really need to reintroduce his terrifying, existential threat to defences whenever he has the ball within 60 metres. Otherwise, the small forwards and forward-adjacent players are a bit meh at the moment. Laurie and Pickett (L) aren't making enough chances, Chandler is doing a lot of good work further up the ground, Sharp has slowed down in the last few weeks etc.. etc.. It's not bad that we've got things to improve on at this stage of the year, better than unexpectedly sitting sixth on the ladder after 18 rounds courtesy of absolutely everything going right, with no room for error.

Richmond came out full of excitement for the second quarter, but got stuff all reward for it before the momentum ground to a halt, and Gawn nudged the famous door a little bit closer to shut with the first goal of the term. We missed a few chances to start clobbering their brains out, before Bowey turned up for one of his rare but always appreciated Howitzer blasts from outside 50, then JVR added two at the end. The sense that the Tigers had done their bit and were satisfied to escape without getting thrashed was helped by us immediately cancelling out their only goal of the quarter. Nothing about this was vintage, but it was good enough for where we're at. What about we keep winning in solid but unspectacular fashion, then launch another surprise outburst of bulk scoring in September?

The weather clearly had a sense of humour, because after pissing down at random during the first half, the rain stopped during the half-time break until exactly the point when the players came back after half time. These were not conditions conducive for launching a landslide win, but nor was a hapless opposition likely to wind back a five goal deficit after not kicking that in total during the first half. But even with an opposition 20,000 leagues under the sea compared to last week, the fear of another second half collapse was still active in the darkest corners of my mind. This made no sense, but I can't help who I am.

There was another brief start of quarter rally by the opposition, which came to nothing because they couldn't kick goals for shit. We've all been there, and while I'm sure their players were just happy to not be conceding in bulk at the other end, it's depressing to watch as a fan. Better anyone than us. We ultimately got four goals - and I've seen us kick less in a full game - but the motions were certainly being gone through. I'm glad Jefferson converted his set shot, because he appears to be a 100% confidence player and kicking 0.3 with one OOF may have set him back a year.

In an accurate preview of how the game was going to end, the kid chosen to run for Lego at three quarter time realised there was no way he could lose and walked to victory without breaking a sweat. When JVR kicked his fifth in the opening minute, there was briefly the sense that we might be about to make up for last week by unloading a full (Jacob van) rooting on them, before it turned into us keeping our powder dry for the important stuff, and Richmond attempting to avoid being dragged into a 'sad music' montage on AFL360.

We let them get four consolation goals, which wasn't ideal but hardly anything to keep you awake at night thinking about. The star of the last quarter was Joel Fitzgerald, the man who the word 'coalface' was invented for, who kept racking up possessions left, right and centre. Unless the ex-Williamstownian is miserable about having to drive to Cranbourne all the time, I dare say it won't be long until he'll be getting an extension beyond the standard mid-season draftee contract - especially as Sparrow inches closer to the end of the year, and a lucrative date with free agency, with no sign of a deal.

After becoming the first Melbourne player with back-to-back five goal haul since Jesse Hogan (remember him?) in 2018, the best bit about the final term was van Rooyen equalling his personal best with a sixth. If you prefer your analysis in the format of 'actual', rather than me going entirely off the vibe, here's an explanation of his performance beyond just "look at that guy thrashing some hapless defenders". Featuring a presenter with a very large television, continuously being interrupted by Kayo while trying to make a point. He's stuffed when they start making you watch ads after every unpause, so enjoy it while you can.

Developing as a key forward is all about what strings can you add to the bow.

As a junior, usually the key forwards are levels above their opponent that it doesn’t really matter what sort of ball comes into them, they’ll make it work.

That doesn’t work in the AFL, so… pic.twitter.com/5xkmI8N7LC

— Davisjarra (@davisjarrafooty) July 12, 2026

And, err, that was it. We won the last quarter because Sharp kicked a goal after the siren, and if anyone was disappointed that they had to listen to the Grand Old Flag instead of Sweet Caroline, I challenge you to a fight outside Gate 4.

I don't want to sound blase about a win, because I appreciate them all more than you'll ever know, but this was just another banana skin to be avoided while we wait for the important stuff to begin. I still don't believe our form is sustainable against top sides, but at this point everything is a bonus so all aboard the wild ride and let's hope for something truly silly to happen at the end of the year.

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Jake Bowey
4 - Jacob van Rooyen
3 - Jake Lever
2 - Daniel Turner
1 - Joel Fitzgerald

Massive apologies to Chandler and Sparrow. Lesser apologies to Gawn, Howes, Jiath, Langdon, Melksham and Steele

Leaderboard
No votes for the top four, but the big news is that we finally have a leader in what can now be revealed - as if it hadn't been given away in a pre-season post nobody read - as the Nathan Jones Rising Star Award. The unprecedented scenario of a mid-season draftee potentially winning has thrown the pre-season betting markets into disarray, but what we know right now is that the dreaded 'NO ELIGIBLE PLAYER' result is off the table. 

The only other interest is in the Seecamp, where Turner both gets votes, and loses ground to the fast finishing Bowey. Otherwise, there's 30 votes left in the Home and Away season + god only knows what to follow. It means the line of doom is snaking up the leaderboard, but also that every week Pickett doesn't gain ground on Gawn, the chances of Max romping to a big win increase. Watch this space.

48 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
32 - Kysaiah Pickett
24 - Tom Sparrow
23 - Jack Steele
20 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
18 - Jacob van Rooyen
--- Needs at least one final ---
14 - Jake Bowey
13 - Ed Langdon
--- Needs at least two finals ---
12 - Harvey Langford
9 - Kade Chandler
8 - Jake Lever
--- Needs at least three finals ---
6 - Harrison Petty, Caleb Windsor
4 - Bayley Fritsch, Brody Mihocek, Koltyn Tholstrup
--- Come on, let's not get silly about this now ---
2 - Blake Howes, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award)

Next week
After (eventually) accounting for a contender and an also-ran in consecutive weeks, the task is now to conquer the sort of mid-table mediocrities I thought we'd be this year. It's North Melbourne at Docklands, in a rematch of the Round 2, 2025 game that all but blew the doors off the Simon Goodwin era. At that point you'd have thought they were going to hurtle away from us, but it turned out to be a Gather Round style false alarm. But they are getting better, and even with the odd 20 goal loss randomly thrown in, we'd still want to be better than this week to guard against another surprise.

Didn't see a cracker of the Casey game, where they lost to the locally based VFL club called the Lions care of having their side ransacked to cover our late withdrawals, emergencies, and requirements to play a returning Salem for half a game. No comment on any additions from that game then, I'll just assume Fritsch and Petty were late withdrawals out of caution/quality of opposition, so they can come straight back. Surely they're not going to pick Salem off half a game in the suburbs when he hasn't played since Round 5.

The question of "does Max Heath still play here?" is that he'd got a shoulder injury, so he's not an option for the second ruck, but I'd rather Petty do it 15% of the time and provide a decent threat forward than uninspiring Johnson cameos just because he's got a larger frame. Otherwise, I'm losing confidence in Windsor, but for lack of obvious replacements may as well give him a few more weeks.

We should win, but when has that ever meant anything?

IN: Fritsch, Petty
OUT: Johnson, Laurie (omit)
LUCKY: L. Pickett, Windsor
UNLUCKY: Cross, Henderson

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Not a huge number of top contenders this week, but I like the Melksham one from the boundary that got the party started. Cross retains the lead.

Final thoughts
We're on the verge of being involved in something baffling and crazy this year. I don't think there's enough quality at the bottom end of the team to think about it ending in premiership contention, but anything's better than the sinking feeling of 12 months ago. I'm not yet at the stage of having enough hope that it'll kill me when we lose a final by 1 point, but the lid is starting to bubble.