Expectations successfully exceeded

Signs following Melbourne has me wound tighter than a two dollar watch #432 - Finding out Geelong is 40 points down and about to throw the Bradbury Plan vault wide open, and immediately thinking "I bet this means we'll lose to Port". That theory was never tested, thanks to the AFL's unflushable nuggets doing their usual back-from-the-dead routine, but it's another example of the unrelenting state panic I live my supporting life in. Then we won by 12 goals anyway, kicking a season high score without having to go anywhere near top gear. I'd like to say I'm finally convinced that we can put up enough of a score to beat anyone, but it's safer to expect the worst and hope to be surprised.

After two years of finding out that "Boring but functional" was no longer valid, Steven King's wish for his side to be "Fun and dangerous" sounded like the sort of admirable goal that would either take years to get to, or be remembered with the scorn of a coach aiming to become the "hardest team to play against", shortly before spending two years providing free target practice. Instead, in a twist nobody saw coming, we've become the most interesting team in the competition. 

I bet the man who once kicked Jeff White's face off has never been compared to slap-happy General George S. Patton before, but apparently they share the philosophy of "Nobody ever defended anything successfully, there is only attack and attack and attack some more". Who knows what happens after everyone's had the chance to set traps for us in the off-season, but I'll worry about 2027 after our mad, unexpected run to this year's finals is over.

Could finally get the Hollywood ending I was fanging for in 2023/24, just with a different cast of characters. Probably not, but just being able to think about it is a luxury after back-to-back Septembers where the most interesting storylines featured players attempting escape in every direction. I have great love for Petracca and Oliver, but compared to what we've done since, their departures have been Shawshank Redemption, with more tunnelling through shit and no redemption. Months ago, I'd have taken the random combination of McVee, Sizzle Jr, and the surviving Wagnii winning a flag, but for now all ex-players who'll be playing beyond next week are the enemy.

I've got so little time for watching other teams that my entire exposure to Port Adelaide this season was the last two minutes of their loss to West Coast in March. Since then, the best you can say for them is that they're clearly the best of the bottom four. There, for the grace of the football gods, go us. I was within the margin of error in predicting they'd finish 14th - but am pleased to have radically underestimated the team expected to be one spot higher.

After keeping things respectable for most of the year, Port finally folded their tent last week and lost by 97 points. It meant that on paper, something truly awful had to happen if we were going to lose, but I haven't believed in a guaranteed win since Sydney '93, so prefer to wait until evidence is presented in our favour. This came in the form of the best possible first quarter, where a big lead was set up by swashbuckling end-to-end play rather than just stepping over the corpses of opposition who'd lost the will to live. A lot of Port players I'd never heard of, and have already forgotten, were well up for it. I'd say "so they should be" in the last home game of the season, but we've had enough CBF games at the end of dud campaigns to know that doesn't always apply.

I don't know if a 'settler' was required for any reason other than calming my nervous condition, but it came through van Rooyen getting such a soft free that he started to take off towards goal, not realising he'd been the one held in the contest. This is the kind of Wheel of Umpiring win you get when kicking to decent contests inside 50. Can't get questionable decisions in your favour when the ball is deposited directly with a defender under no pressure. Even with our scoring (relatively) through the roof this year, I feel like there's more to be gained from creating contests 0-20 metres from goal. As tactical advice, this is as helpful as saying players should just kick straight, but there are multiple good outcomes - mark, crumb, free potential, and not letting the ball rebound quickly - so the fewer intercept marks near goal the better. Yes, I'm aware that a raft of full-time coaches spend their lives thinking about this sort of stuff, but if people weren't allowed to make ill-informed comments about things they only partly understand, the internet would be back to 1991 traffic levels.

We haven't played many consequential games against Port over the years (Balme getting the sack, the 2009 one that made us 'forget' how to win, the COVID one in front of 300 people that made Glenn Bartlett rightfully crack the shits), but they did provide the template for dealing with Gawn in Round 1, 2019 by brutally mugging him for four quarters. Since then, the rest of the league has protected the spirit of the game while Max has had to buy a new wardrobe to fit his collection of All Australian blazers. One of them was lucky not to go several notches better on the violence scale with a bump on Windsor that was 100% legal, but just needed the bumpee to be in a slightly different spot for mayhem to break out. 

Later incidents involving people being whacked in the head were tame compared to what might have happened here, and I'm not trying to lay an unconvincing "Yeah but what about..." argument because Windsor was straight back on his feet and unharmed, but do you really want players risking Tribunal wipeout in the second last game of the season by going through an opponent like a freight train? I didn't expect Port to stand aside and let us do as we liked (wouldn't have argued), but it didn't seem worth it on the risk/reward scale. In conjunction with imminent tribunal action, it just goes to show how much luck contributes to suspensions.

JVR's Spoiling Slaughterhouse II was still ahead of us at this point, but the good news if you've got a Port fan in your life (another year and I've still never met one in real life) carrying on like a concussed player was the difference in this game, we were already well ahead when the rogue arm fatefully connected. The second goal came via Sparrow, and as I correctly chose to believe the rumours that he was about to turn down Port's megabucks and re-sign for still substantial money with us. I was hoping he'd celebrate by kicking a goal, producing the new contract from his undercrackers, and lean on the fence to sign it while being flecked with spittle by howling Port Adeladians.

Unlike me, Tom Sparrow is a top athlete, not somebody who watched too much wrestling in the 90s, so no such shenanigans followed. There was no need to deploy Tony Greig's Scrotometer to ensure the paper wasn't damaged by excess plum sweat, but we'd have liked to see the international hand gesture for pen usage. Meanwhile, after the SA/TAS/WA Allies commentary box defamed Fritsch for not handballing an earlier chance, his pass to set up this goal went unrecognised. The cliches about him being selfish are wedged into the 'not really' ladder between Melbourne fans eating bulk cheese, and Gawn never kicking set shots. How do you get all the goals he snaps out of his arse if he's got to stop and consider the landscape ahead? Teammates will occasionally be burnt, and chances will be wasted, but that's the price of doing business. And - unlike previous years - if you don't get a goal on the spot, another one will be along soon after.

After Sparrow's early intervention, 'People who have said recently no thanks to Port' tribute day (name needs workshopping - editor), Pickett launched an escape from defence that ended with Chandler waltzing into an open goal. The next came via Bailey Laurie, who I'm going to bet Port Adelaide has never tried to sign. For most of this season there were questions about why we'd signed him, but after years of hanging around on the fringe, he's been having the time of his life recently. A rising tide lifts all boats etc... but credit where it's due, he's not only been kicking goals but helping set them up. I detect no clamour for the return of Pickett (L), who brings the razzle-dazzle but otherwise has comparable stats - except for a +35 bounce advantage - to Laurie. Pickett has plenty of time to develop, but for now I have more trust in the workmanlike, tested by adversity form of the previously - and maybe soon to be again - maligned Laurie to deliver when the bombs are dropping in September.

His goal lasted until we helped get Port on the board from a 50 paid against any of three players who were running away from the mark but were adjudged to have not stood at the umpire's command. Which one was actually guilty? God only knows, but the joy of them missing a sitter didn't last long, as it soon turned into the always popular seven point play. Perhaps this would spur Port on to one last big effort to end the season on a high? Well, no. But for a team that was all but dismantled by quarter time, they weren't playing that badly. It's just that we were unstoppable when the ball got into the open. They weren't good enough/didn't have the remaining life force to keep it away, kept providing turnover opportunities, and were generally doing what you'd expect from the 15th place team at this point of the season. 

If you believed the commentary hype, Fritsch might have thought about strangling Windsor after missing out on a goal via post-free play on, but his self-restraint paid off by getting one straight after. Or maybe they're all just happy for each other, no matter who gets the goal? There's an inordinate amount of attention paid to teammates throwing hands up in the air when not kicked to, as if it's not a perfectly natural reaction in the moment. Footy commentators trying to psychologically analyse players is like me pretending I know what's going on with zones and presses. 

Things were going very well, but we'd already seen one team come back from the dead that afternoon. Obviously Port are not Geelong, and didn't help themselves by missing another gettable shot. It looked like all the work had been done in a good, solid, 'finals team flexing muscles' quarter when world's cheeriest man Kade Chandler did this:

Kade Chandler, that is outstanding in game 100 🤯#AFLPowerDees pic.twitter.com/760cZtp3Sd

— AFL (@AFL) August 15, 2026

Goal of the Week voters had two Harry Sharp contenders to choose from last week and showed wisdom by picking his long distance launch as the better one, now their job is to ensure Melbourne players go back-to-back. Remember when that lady was famous for five minutes after telling people to clean their cupboards, and she had some catchphrase about "sparking joy". Well, Chandler sparks my football joy because he always looks so chuffed to be out there. I'll take angry players who could attack a teammate with piano wire at any moment if they win games, but you need the occasional salt of the earth, happy person in the side for balance.  

We've been gentle in our treatment of the bottom four, so I didn't expect us to savagely go on with it after quarter time - but after 2x Essendon, 2x Richmond, and 1x West Coast games, this was the closest we've come to delivering a four quarter shellacking yet. Like many of those games, the second quarter was a non-shellack one - it's just that in this case the beatings resumed after half time. 

When the TV showed a live ladder that had us fourth, I went into full paranoid, superstition mode, and conceding the first two goals of the quarter didn't help. We responded with two of the worst forward 50 entries in the recent history of the sport, while Port's brief revival was attributed by the commentators to them being ahead 233-159 in the Pressure Rating. Find yourself a life partner who loves you as much as Fox Sports callers love that stat. International viewers accidentally stumbling across an AFL game at 3.20am would think pressure is a stat with importance to the game on the same level as kicks and marks. I'm sure the maths behind it are robust, but in the middle of a game it's just people spouting numbers to try and look intellectual. There are people who are ready to tamper with your brakes for questioning expected score, so if you're a Pressure Rating gunzel (prunzel?) and would like to register a complaint, please state your case in the comments and within five business days our customer feedback team will ignore it.

Once again, it was turnover that got us going - and this is odd to say after our highest score of the season, but I think our September Achilles' Heel will be the forward line. We've shapeshifted to the quality of opposition all year, but you're more likely to get away with punting the ball to non-contests against Port than [insert the literally half of the competition also in the finals]. And now we'll be starting September without one of the key pillars in our attack, so there's still work to be done to make sure the forward line doesn't go up in flames when it matters a'la 2022/2023.

Just as I was starting to get morbid, Jefferson went up the ground, plonked a kick upon Petty's famous noggin, and the margin was back out to six goals. Jefferson hasn't done anything since his career-best game against North, but I'd be comfortable if he played the role of Petty a couple of years ago, more likely to get a touch 70 metres out, but setting up others. The problem then was that we had nada ahead of Petty, now there's a reasonable spread of potential goalkickers. Jefferson did fill his boots with three goals, and is still well ahead of his nearest competitors for a tall forward job but the degree of difficulty is about to go up because...

... two weeks after we reminisced about van Rooyen spoiling a Gold Coast player into oblivion, he did it again. This time it was more of a clothesline than a forearm smash to the noggin. It wasn't malicious, but if they didn't suspend him the internet risked melting down with North fans shoehorning Paul Curtis' name into every conversation. Last year a player who we choose not to name for legal reasons got three weeks for running in the wrong direction, so it wasn't a huge shock when the MRP did the old 'give him three and let the tribunal sort it out' interpretation. At which point we activated, for the 933rd time this calendar year, the lawyers...

At least this time it didn't involve being sued by a former player or staff member. If legal costs counted under the coaching salary cap Steven King would be working for a hot dog and a handshake.

After nearly making it through the season without a suspension for the first time since 2018, this is a confirmed SHITHOUSE time for a key player to go down for clumsiness. Also makes it look like blatant self-interest to say I've got no moral objection to players being rubbed out for accidentally KOing an opponent, but three weeks is ridiculously over the top considering you might only get double that for deliberately landing a right hook on someone. If you just gave him a week and got on with it most people would understand (NB: surely I've said similar at some point when it didn't influence finals selection). 

At the risk of bringing up the classic 'football action or negligence' debate, how do you dish out three week bans as a deterrent against what players do multiple times every game? Punitive bans should be for blatantly illegal things that a player chooses to do - like dropping knees into somebody on the ground, or clutching an opponent's grundle. What's van Rooyen going to do in his break, consult a biomechanist on how to avoid concussing somebody next time, at which point we're not even having this conversation because there's been a free kick, and he may have paid a token fine but there's no huge leap straight to three weeks because the victim has the misfortune of being concussed.

The best part was how none of the nearby Port players could be bothered remonstrating with him, until one lone person decided to fly the flag and flew in from off camera, before realising his teammates weren't going to join in. Even the booing from the locals was half-hearted. I'd have been more upset at the rest of the team for not following the lead of the lone jostler. No point getting suspended in a dead rubber, but a few well-paid stars could've worn $1000 fines just to make a point after a long, ordinary season.

I was pretty sure we weren't going to have a second half collapse, but just to make sure a ball heading towards the forward pocket boundary line reversed course, and wound up with Fritsch's third. While we continued to do as expected, the real excitement was happening in the corner of the screen where Collingwood was about to do us a favour by upsetting Hawthorn, putting the double chance in our own hands next week. Then, disrespectfully to our efforts at a faithful 1998 cover version, the dickheads threw away the lead and I had to take a deep breath and remember that the first priority was avoiding the Wildcard Wankfest - and that we're blessed just to be involved in finals discussion under any circumstances.

We were doing our bit, if the Pies felt like joining in. Jefferson kicked a snap, before Petty did one of the great leads of recent times, and the margin was entering 'thrashing' territory. Port were far from awful, but having paid them zero interest for the first 23 rounds, there are obviously good reasons why they're near the bottom of the ladder. Procession Mode was helped by them losing a defender after JVR's unexpected dollop of wallop, but let the record show they'd already conceded about eight goals before that.

For the second time this week I was forced to watch on delay, so my only indication of the other game was the score ticker on the bottom of the screen, and after looking like they'd be run over, Collingwood retook the lead and may have temporarily shed the dickhead tag. I don't really want to play Freo again over there, but finishing fourth after coming into this season just hoping to avoid humiliation would be a remarkable achievement. Speaking of 1998, this must have been what it was like to follow a game on Teletext - including yelling obscenities at the screen when it showed the Pies losing again. And because I was on delay, there was no option to watch the finish of the other game while we went through the motions of winding up Port's season. 

It didn't feel like a 53 point lead, even when the ball went straight through a Port's player's legs and presented Jefferson with his second, but was achieved with Pickett having arguably his worst game since being freed from permanent forwarding. Then, just as the other game got to a crucial point it was three quarter time, and it was STIFF SHIT for anyone whose only insight into what was happening elsewhere was the on-screen delay. By the time the game restarted it was Hawthorn by a point with two minutes left.

After a dull first 2.5 quarters, Jefferson got his third from a free that was barely there but contributed to the atmosphere of Port fans pretending the umpires had something to do with them being shite. The other game ended in a draw, and as I couldn't consult my chosen live ladder due to still being 12 minutes in delay. The one time a live ladder would've been helpful and it wasn't shown. Surely it's just ticking away in the background, ready for the director to put it on screen at any point - they don't have a statistician constructing it in the studio, then submitting it for approval.

If I'd done my research, I'd have known we were seven percentage points below Hawthorn, and the draw was almost as useless for us as them winning. Try telling that to the commentators, who went on about percentage as if there was any chance of us bridging the gap with them playing West Coast in the last round. You'd say "maybe beat Essendon next time", but that's the long term version of "if they'd kicked straight it'd be 10.1 not 1.10". And no - I will not accept that the season would've played out in exactly the same way if we'd gone on to properly root the Hawks in Launceston rather than disappearing in the second half.

After a year of waiting to finally whip a poxy team, I admit to watching the last quarter thinking it'd be better for everyone if the captains just shook hands and the teams went off. Against the odds, and any sensible pre-season analysis, we've reached the last round with much bigger fish to fry. The big game atmosphere was not furthered by more Pressure Rating chat. Next thing they'll be suggesting a bonus point for any team to go over [Whatever's a good figure].

Hooray for Chandler roosting one from distance and angle because the Port players CBF standing the mark. Based on the earlier fiasco, he should've got a 50 because they all forgot to stand. It meant he got to kick a great goal instead, so good result in the end. For once we removed ourselves from a negative record instead of extending it - upping the 90-something points we gave away on turnover against Geelong, by slicing and dicing Port for a season-best 111. Would be a more risky way to go about things if not for Turner and Lever playing out of their skins in defence.

With nothing left to play for except surviving for finals, this week's edition of Harrison Petty Argues With Everybody involved an opponent outmarking him, delivering a spray, then kicking it OOF. This was soon followed by Chandler dropping a sliding mark and having time to regather, stand up, wander through traffic and kick a snap. From the artistic camera angle shown at the next bounce, it seems a lot of Port fans decided not to sit through the rest of it, adhering to the boundary line ad commanding them to GO FULL CHICKEN.

After a Port defender tried to avenge his teammate with a spoil to van Rooyen's head, which you'll never hear about again because nobody got knocked out, Laurie kicked our 20th goal, and it still didn't feel like an 82 point margin. Which it wasn't after they kicked the reply, but it was still our biggest ever win against Port by heaps - having never beaten them by more than 53, on the day my mum nearly punched on with a lippy opposition fan.

Thus endeth a one-sided contest where the score worm had the gradual downward trajectory of a stricken airliner desperately trying to stay in the air before finally stacking it.

I'd like to have enjoyed post-match content, but as I was still eight minutes in the delay hole during the song - Kayo decided I wanted to switch to golf that started an hour earlier. Not that I've ever once watched golf in the time I've subscribed to this cursed service, but based on a similar situation on Thursday night, I suspect the delayed feed gets a signal to finish when the live broadcast does. That's not going to end well. 

And so, off we go towards unexpected finals campaigning that could go in any direction. We still don't know if it'll be wildcard (*spit*), Elimination Final, or double chance. It's baffling that any of these options are even on the table at this stage but I'm so happy they are that the resulting stress may trigger a nervous breakdown in the next few weeks. It took two years of sliding down the ladder, but the Premiership Anesthetic has finally worn off. If we lose a final in tragic circumstances like the Carlton game (especially if it's to Carlton), there will be no wry smiles and driving around the suburbs for hours after, I may close my head in an MCG seat, then park sideways on the Metropolitan Ring Road. It's good to be back.

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Kade Chandler
4 - Max Gawn
3 - Bayley Fritsch
2 - Daniel Turner
1 - Bailey Laurie

Apologies to Jiath, Langdon, Lever, Petty, Steele, and Tholstrup

Leaderboard
Now I'm ready to call this, Gawn can mathematically still be beaten but won't be. After wins in 2019 and 2025, this is his first in a good season, and leaves him behind only 5x and 4x winners Jones and Oliver on the all-time Jakovich leaderboard. He now holds 75% of non-midfielder wins in history (and if we have to consider ruckman midfielders for statistical purposes, why don't they ever win the Brownlow?), alongside minority shareholder 2010 Brad Green. 

59 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
--- Needs at least three finals. Unlikely ---
40 - Kysaiah Pickett
--- Needs five finals. Virtually impossible ---
29 - Tom Sparrow
27 - Jack Steele
--- Cannot reach 59 by any means ---
22 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
19 - Jacob van Rooyen
18 - Jake Bowey
16 - Jake Lever
14 - Kade Chandler
13 - Bayley Fritsch, Ed Langdon
12 - Harvey Langford, Harrison Petty
10 - Koltyn Tholstrup
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), Bailey Laurie

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Obviously Chandler from the angle. Very good, but not better than the big Sharp launch. 

Next week
Twilight action against Footscray, with the potential of finishing anywhere between third and 7th. Say what you like about the wildcard - and I will - but it does mean we arrive with the chance of a double chance, a week off, or having to come back the next week and be considered on par with the 10th best side in an 18 team competition. Two of these outcomes are fair enough, the third is detrimental to the competition. Thank god the league didn't get a Carlton/Collingwood knockout game or this rubbish would be here to stay. As if it's not already.

If we don't pull off a legal scam to free JVR entirely, I'm saying pick Melksham because he needs to be kept warm for finals - but what I really mean is that he can play the 30% Salem role while we enjoy one last round of Forward Sizzle. You never know when we might need a desperation forward late in a final, and yes we know Turner can do it - but what if we need two desperation forwards? Doubtful, but I'm just looking for any excuse to pay tribute to McDonald's wild mid-career run as a forward by putting him down there one last time.

I watched Casey but paid scant attention while Box Hill did the VFL version of what we did to Port, calmly dismantling inferior opposition. The big story was the return of Jack Viney, for the first time this season. Got plenty of the ball, kicked a goal, and will know exactly what to do if picked, but I don't see any reason to rush him into the senior side. Plenty of water under the bridge since his shock post-injury return to the 2018 finals, and while we could do with some more oomph at the stoppages I'm not inclined to mess with what's been working so well with popular crimefighting duo Sparrow and Steele. Handy to have in reserve though, even if he'll be forced to press his claims in half-baked scratch matches now that Casey finished 19th. But Heath does come back, just to give us the chance to rest Gawn once we get a better idea of our finishing position.

I've been complaining about VFL fixturing for years before Steven King, but will partially defend them against complaints about not having games for finals teams to play. Yes, the last round of the VFL should match the AFL season, but otherwise the solution to your problem is to make the finals. It's been 27 years since there was a proper Reserves competition (!?!), but same deal back then if your Seconds didn't make it. Let's complain about really offensive things like a 18 game, 22 team competition where you still play some teams twice, byes galore, and pulling up the competition for state games that nobody gives a half rat's arse about. It just looks like self-interest now - get mad in April.

Regardless of what happened last time against the Dogs, we should win but Luke Beveridge will probably drop half the team on Thursday night just to provoke the AFL, then bring them all back in as late changes, so god only knows what'll happen.

IN: Heath, Melksham
OUT: Salem (omit), van Rooyen (susp)
LUCKY: Jefferson
UNLUCKY: Lindsay, Viney

The All-New Bradbury Plan
It's a simultaneous top four/top six plan for the last round. First consideration is beating the Bulldogs, who suddenly have a reason to avoid finishing 10th and potentially travelling to Adelaide. I note they rested Bontempelli this week to confuse the AFL Selection Police. 

Might happen
Collingwood d. Brisbane
GWS d. Adelaide

Highly unlikely
West Coast d. Hawthorn

More chance of peace in the Middle East
Richmond d. Geelong (If the nuggets need percentage this could turn into Revenge of 186)

Alternative viewing + Midlife Crisis Corner + Administrative updates
Not that you'd know it unless you're already interested, but AFLW is back. Let's see how far I can get through that season before melting down under the weight of having written about 100,000 words of nonsense about footy since March. Considering the absurd length of some posts over the years, readers may appreciate that the transfer from brain to keyboard is operating at dial-up internet speed but it's giving me the shits. Regardless, you write MELBOURNE FC on something, and I'll go out of my way to watch/make uninformed comment on it.

And, for want of anywhere else to mention it - demonblog.com has been crocked for the last couple of weeks. Obviously you've found the alternative way to get here, but hopefully the famous shortcut URL will be back by the time you read this. Feel free to get it tattooed across your neck if we win the flag.

Final thoughts
So far, I still prefer 1998 and 2018 because I was there for more of them in person, and 2021 because of the obvious - but this season has potential for finishing at the very top of the 1989-present list. Or it could be a replay of 2005. There's only one way to find out.

The more Mia the merrier

When the league made this a standalone Thursday night game, I bet they didn't expect one of the teams to have spent two weeks on the phone to Rent-A-Player. Mind you, with the year the AFL has had, they probably meant for this to be played 9am Sunday morning at Glenferrie Oval. Best not to try and make sense of their decisions, you'll end up a gibbering wreck.

The good news is that despite the usual Black Death-style injury crisis, and our first game under a new coach since literally the opening round of the competition's history, we did as required. Not without some drama, with Preliminary Final PTSD-inducing torching of an early lead at Princes Park mysteriously turning into a thumping last quarter and comfortable win.

If you watched on Fox rather than Channel 7 (and now that you're not guaranteed the Tayla Harris giant eye jumper after every goal, why would you sit through the ads?), the pre-match highlights were a) the claim that we've only missed finals once due to finishing every other season in the top eight - as if the current finals system has been in place from season one, and b) an exasperated Daniel Harford saying "What have you done?" on a hot mic. Otherwise, not sure Fox got much benefit from opening the studio for three people to watch the game on TV. Keep that in mind when the price of Kayo goes up to $99.99 a month to pay for their NRL commitments.

For much of the first quarter, it looked like the AFLW showcase would be replaced with 'Melbourne pummels hapless opposition'. Enthusiasts have seen it all before, but it would've been new to somebody. Not that it was a walkover from the first bounce, Hawthorn had more than enough inside 50s in the opening minutes. As the discerning fan knows, an inside 50 on its own is worth SOD ALL. They were either booted straight to a defender, or into open space where the ball could easily be cleared. 

You don't want the ball to get down there in the first place, but it was arriving in the least threatening possible manner. Then, after all their hard/panic work was wasted, we successfully counter-attacked. Mahony roved a contest, regathered after the ball bounced off her foot, and converted - making it a rare Double Crumb. Then former Princes Park inhabitant and ex-Carltonian Mia Austin kicked off the most successful debut in club history, after a mark that initially bounced off her shoulder. She's not going to get four goals every week, and at some point this season I will get misty-eyed and nostalgic about Eden Zanker. But going off early based on one performance, it seems like we've got a decent replacement.

You won't be surprised to discover that Kate Hore was at the heart of everything we did in the first quarter. She missed a set shot after marking between three defenders, but with the Hawthorn backline in full 'Fall of Saigon' disarray, the captain set up Mahony - whose first quarter total was 2/3 of her entire goal output from last season. Just when you might have thought a landslide was on the cards, we did our bit for the good of the game by giving the Hawks their first via unnecessary post-kick contact. 

Not for the last time, Channel 7 missed something crucial while showing a full-screen replay, not expecting a quick play on. I'm not suggesting directing live TV is easy (see: for example, this classic clip). From the next bounce there was a prime example of "some people have no luck", with Jacinta Hose not even lasting one quarter into a debut delayed by three seasons before winding up on the ground looking absolutely crocked. Turned out she had, according to the commentary, simply copped one "in the guts". At the time of writing I've got no idea if that was true or not, but after years of injury drama she was able to return... only to do an ankle in the second quarter.   

Speaking of players with four letter surnames including Ho*e, Kate was on hand for a free and our fourth goal. I can't imagine the hate-watching types were undergoing sudden conversion to the women's game, but I was certainly entertained. Our new BFF Austin's second put it on the verge of a landslide, before we gave them a sniff with the usual DemonTime goal, marked with five seconds left by a player standing unaccompanied in the square.

Other than their all-at-sea defence, Hawthorn had been better value than the score suggested so I'm not surprised they got back in the game, but is a nice quiet evening too much to ask for? Instead, we let the game get uncomfortably tight in the middle quarters. All's well that ends in Melbourne receiving 4x premiership points, but it looked extremely dodgy for a bit. The proper fightback came after a few minutes replaying the bit of the first quarter, where Hawthorn had plenty of chances but couldn't find a way to convert chances - but sadly not the bit with the other team booting goals out the wazoo.

It took Hore hitting the post to inspire them to go the other way, find multiple players standing on their own and... miss again. Thanks for that. But our commitment to keeping things interesting meant gifting them a goal not long after via the least-administrative protected zone 50 ever. Harris ran so close to the player about to kick that she could've patted her on the head. They got another one straight after, which set off John Cena's theme song as post goal music. Does this mean you pick any song that's ever existed (adjusted for content suitability)? I thought the players were handed a big book of approved tunes and had to select from something the league/club/ground had the rights to. If any players are reading, let me sing your goal song. I have no musical talent and once made the Singstar score graph flatline by singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, but it'll get people talking.

If anyone should have a classic WWF goal song, it's Austin, and she calmed things down by outrunning an opponent and soccering home a third. We've had forwards who haven't kicked three goals in a season, so this was all very exciting. But still, the hot start had ended in a stalemate by half time. If Coach Wilson was rubbing his hands together in glee at the start watching Hore, Hanks, and Purcell running riot, now he had to reset and make sure we didn't get run over.

Maybe there was a mystery gale force wind to the right of screen? Apparently not. There were just as many Hawthorn inside 50s as the opening quarter, but this time not straight to defenders for peak rebounding opportunities. Now we were the ones panic kicking forward for lack of spare players, and Hawthorn finally hit the front via a mark that was missed while showing a replay - then nearly got another one straight after and this was confirmed not as much fun as the first quarter. 

We got a chance to calm things down thanks to our old friend Sheriff spinning out of one tackle without realising another one was coming, but Wotherspoon missed. Fair enough, but the speed it departed the defensive 50 at from the kick in was a bit *nervous adjustment of collar*. What looked effortless in the first quarter was now replaced by hanging on for dear life, and even when Harris flew out of nowhere for a team lifting tackle on somebody who'd stolen Steve Urkel's glasses, nothing came of it. Further obscure '90s sitcom references to come, fact fans.

The (false) sense that we may not kick another goal was furthered by Bannan's attempts to run onto a loose ball in the dying seconds, with the bounce getting away from her and ruining the surprise value. It was not our finest quarter, and while the game was still very much winnable I'd gone into my usual 'mentally thinking about terms of surrender' misery. Then it all flipped around again and we pissed it in. Which was nice.

For the first, and probably last, time allow me to paraphrase outdated/likely cancelled comedy character Reg Reagan and say that last week I had no idea who Mia Austin was, now she's my favourite player. Her set shot tipped half a game's momentum on its head, McNamara added another one soon after, and all of sudden we were back in action.

There was even something for those of you playing the niche sport of Matthew Richardson special comments bingo. Unlike most Channel 7 callers, I have no issue at all with him but you can be 100% sure that if there's a 6-6-6 violation he'll go off on one about why there's still a warning. Rare credit to the AFL on not listening to him, realising fans want to see players contesting the ball at a centre bounce, not teams gifted a free forward entry because someone stood in the wrong spot.

Further farce broke out when Hore was penalised for the ball hitting her foot as it went over the line, before the umpires conferred with Mr/Mrs. X for about 30 seconds before somehow coming to the conclusion that it had actually come off the Hawthorn player's shin on the way. Harris felt so strongly about this miscarriage of justice that she gave away a free kick off the ball and left us in the same place we'd started in. Harris and unnecessary free kicks are like Pickett (K) and the occasional haywire attempt at doing something crazy - you can't have the good stuff without the bad. Still, with the margin at an even 12, and Hore likely to kick a handy point at the very least, there would've been questions if we didn't win. [NB: The official stats don't have her giving away any frees, so if somebody else did the crime then blame Channel 7].

The prospect of a Royal Commission into off camera violations was ended by Heath engaging The Matrix to dash through a pack and kick the sealer. Hore could've added a Super Sealer, but did a weird chippy kick from 20 metres out practically directly in front that went wide. It didn't detract from (spoiler) her best on ground status, and made the margin 19 points with three minutes left, so the handy point was delayed but it came eventually.

Obviously, Hawthorn wasn't going to come back from this - much to the disappointment of commentators who tried to pretend the game was still alive as if somebody was holding them at gunpoint - and it was a winning start for the most famous Wilson since the bloke who used to live next door in Home Improvement. It wasn't perfect, but the day I say no to a Round 1 win you can wrap me in a carpet and throw me in Port Phillip Bay.

2026 Daisy Pearce Medal
Welcome to another year of the only footy award named after somebody else's incumbent coach.

5 - Kate Hore
4 - Mia Austin
3 - Olivia Purcell
2 - Tayla Harris
1 - Tyla Hanks

Apologies to Allen, Campbell, Gillard, Heath, Lampard, Mahony and O'Hehir.

Goal of the Week
With apologies to Mahony's opening crumb, you'd be bonkers to look past Heath going hot knife vs butter through Hawthorn's defence.

Next week
Nice to get a win on the board, but it'll need backing up against the Giants on our return to Mt. Variable Weather. Our historical advantage over GWS is so strong that even the one time in seven they beat us was due to some of the most putrid goalkicking in the history of Australian Rules football. Which is no reason to take this challenge lightly, because they've got to get it right eventually. How do you only play a team for the 7th time in a home and away game across 11 seasons? Answers on a postcard marked "We know you don't really care about this competition" to AFL House, Docklands.

Final thoughts
11+ times more of the same please. Preferably without the mid-match comeback scare.

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.