And I thought the Big Footy forums were the internet's home of MFC related illiteracy, ignorance and all around stupidity. But thanks to reader Kazunary, who sent this link in I think we've just found a new champion.
A short summary of the discussion.
"GoDons!" - did allen jakovich die? ??/?
"Deesrule" - What the fark?
"iluvsteviearmstrong" - not that I know of
"godees3434" - go in to google and type his name and u will get the answer, sort off.
"demondude" - hu's allen jackovich is he related to jackovich from the eagles????
TAKE THE WORD DEMON OUT OF YOUR NAME! YOU'RE A DISGRACE! YOU MUST BE AT LEAST 10 YEARS OLD TO UTTER THE GREAT MAN'S NAME ON THE INTERNET. Even if you have no idea who he is.
Disgraceful that the new generation have no idea about the feats of this great man.
Tuesday, 30 August 2005
Monday, 29 August 2005
Apply Some Pressure
So that's another season over. Roll on the trade period, draft, pre-season and 2006! What? Hold on. You're saying we actually made the finals? We lost seven games in a row, beat Geelong by a point after they had the chance to win it after the siren, did the Bulldogs via a contentious free kick after being a million points down with ten minutes to go and fell over the line against the worst Essendon side in two decades and we're still the 7th best team in the country? This league is rooted!
We've done everything possible in our power to avoid it, but we've fallen into the 8. Let's be entirely frank and open and here and say we don't deserve it - we've spent the last two months losing to the best teams in the competition, and falling over the line against some duds. The good news is that anything can happen now - and should we, by some amazing stroke of luck, win the thing I will walk away and pretend this post never happened. The good (!?) news for now is that we've become Richmond and are going ape over falling into the finals despite being nowhere near a premiership quality side.
Yesterday was painful. There were 50000 people there, and it sounded as if a quarter of them were supporting us. Unless there were a lot of Melbourne fans sitting there in complete respectful silence (which is our usual tactic) I'm sure that we were completely outnumbered. And why? Because apparently every single Essendon fan had shown up just because they wanted to see us get beaten and miss the 8. All day people are standing there in full Bombers kit yelling "go Doggies!" and marking out every time they kicked a goal. Why? I'm not entirely sure. I could almost understand us doing it in the same situation, because we've suffered 40 years of failure and misery. We're incredibly joyless people. But they've seen twenty years of success, premierships and being at the pinnacle of the game and suddenly they're reduced to showing up and cheering on another team to beat us. I thought it was just Big Footy that had a Melbourne Complex but it appears that now entire clubs are suffering it. Idiots. I knew there was a reason that I've started to hate their club in the last couple of years.
The game itself. Well, that's nothing to write home about. Most of our side looked completely disinterested in the first quarter, and after kicking the first goal from a free-kick (and there was more of that to come) we copped the next four and tensions started to rise. Come half time, despite kicking six goals to three in the second quarter, we were looking at one of the most shambolic pre-finals exits in history. Thankfully the defence were saving our asses on most occasions - with Carroll and Wheatley (especially) and Nicholson (having his best game for years against anyone other than Matthew Richardson) marking everything that came their way and spoiling wildly. Lucky thing too, because the forward line was doing nothing with the delivery from the midfield. The "kick it towards Robertson" ploy reminded me a lot of our old "kick everything to Neitz" tactic that always lead to him kicking a goal in the first five minutes and then nothing getting another touch for a half. Luckily everyone else was lively, especially Aaron Davey who couldn't kick straight to save himself but was all over the ball and chasing like a madman. Most of our goals came from free kicks, which pleased the local Essendon yokels no end. They were claiming conspiracy so stridently that you'd think that they were playing for their own finals spot, not to put Footscray in as part of some bizarre North/West Melbourne alliance.
By three-quarter time we were three goals up and if it wasn't looking over it was certainly going that way. It looked as if we'd finally shaken Essendon off, and even their mutant fans in the pissed bogan standing section under the giant Steven Kernahan poster in the bottom of the Southern Stand, had finally started to calm down and realise that they follow a side that is, for the moment, complete rubbish. We kicked the first of the last quarter and against any team it would be party time - but for those of us who remember being 42pts up against them in 1991, kicking the first of the last quarter and still losing by a point we will never settle for such a lead. It was quite a traumatic experience that has scarred me ever since. Next thing you knew Daniel Bell had broken his ankle, we were five points in front and some guy called Angus Monfries who I'd quite legitimately never heard of before was kicking for his third goal. He missed and we were holding on, clearly having run out of legs. Adem Yze was clearly not interested, he couldn't even be bothered chasing. If he's injured and is only playing to try and crack the consecutive games record then everyone involved in that idea should be lined up at the MCG and shot.
And then, just as I had to consult some guy standing in front of me to make sure that a draw put us in the 8, Robbo picked up the ball and hoofed it at goal. "FUCKING GO FOR A POINT" I screamed, for no apparent reason, as it looked as if the thing was going to sail out of bounds and leave us clinging to a lead like a shipwreck survivor on a raft, when suddenly it took the greatest bounce in VFL/AFL history and turned into a goal instead. Exciting times. Until the siren went and I realised that truly all we had "achieved" this season was to finish lower than last year, and fall into the finals where we will presumably be crushed like Chinese dissidents.
We finished the day withSuicide Celebration Sunday, as the elite of MFC support came together to debate the afternoon, watch the replay, and use our toaster to bake bread rather than drop it in the bathtub. Lovely.
But we won. And that's all that matters I suppose. First consecutive finals since 1990/91. To be entirely honest I was more excited at seeing Carroll and Nicholson killing it in the backline than any suggestion that we're going to take the finals by storm. Bring on '06 and let's get it RIGHT next time.
Demonblog.com Player of the Year votes
5 - Travis Johnstone
4 - Nathan Carroll
3 - Shannon Motlop
2 - Nathan Brown
1 - Paul Wheatley
Minus votes to the AFL for scheduling our first final on Saturday afternoon so I can't go. Feel free to write a review. I would chuck a sickie if I hadn't completely lost interest in this season last week. This is, I'm aware, almost sacrilegious but bad luck - I've have enough. If we win this, and I'm sure Geelong will be out to wreck us after what happened a couple of weeks back, we're going to get hammered anyway.
Player of the Year Leaderboard
Travis takes a near unassailable lead into the (potential) final round. Farcical scenario as I think Robertson has been our key player this season, and I'd give him the award in a minute. Thankfully for Travis the world's most undemocratic award is heading his way despite being second best.
38 - Travis Johnstone
33 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
12 - Jeff White
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
8 - Nathan Brown
7 - Nathan Carroll
6 - Clint Bizzell, Shannon Motlop
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Paul Wheatley
2 - Matthew Whelan, Guy Rigoni
1 - Ben Holland
We've done everything possible in our power to avoid it, but we've fallen into the 8. Let's be entirely frank and open and here and say we don't deserve it - we've spent the last two months losing to the best teams in the competition, and falling over the line against some duds. The good news is that anything can happen now - and should we, by some amazing stroke of luck, win the thing I will walk away and pretend this post never happened. The good (!?) news for now is that we've become Richmond and are going ape over falling into the finals despite being nowhere near a premiership quality side.
Yesterday was painful. There were 50000 people there, and it sounded as if a quarter of them were supporting us. Unless there were a lot of Melbourne fans sitting there in complete respectful silence (which is our usual tactic) I'm sure that we were completely outnumbered. And why? Because apparently every single Essendon fan had shown up just because they wanted to see us get beaten and miss the 8. All day people are standing there in full Bombers kit yelling "go Doggies!" and marking out every time they kicked a goal. Why? I'm not entirely sure. I could almost understand us doing it in the same situation, because we've suffered 40 years of failure and misery. We're incredibly joyless people. But they've seen twenty years of success, premierships and being at the pinnacle of the game and suddenly they're reduced to showing up and cheering on another team to beat us. I thought it was just Big Footy that had a Melbourne Complex but it appears that now entire clubs are suffering it. Idiots. I knew there was a reason that I've started to hate their club in the last couple of years.
The game itself. Well, that's nothing to write home about. Most of our side looked completely disinterested in the first quarter, and after kicking the first goal from a free-kick (and there was more of that to come) we copped the next four and tensions started to rise. Come half time, despite kicking six goals to three in the second quarter, we were looking at one of the most shambolic pre-finals exits in history. Thankfully the defence were saving our asses on most occasions - with Carroll and Wheatley (especially) and Nicholson (having his best game for years against anyone other than Matthew Richardson) marking everything that came their way and spoiling wildly. Lucky thing too, because the forward line was doing nothing with the delivery from the midfield. The "kick it towards Robertson" ploy reminded me a lot of our old "kick everything to Neitz" tactic that always lead to him kicking a goal in the first five minutes and then nothing getting another touch for a half. Luckily everyone else was lively, especially Aaron Davey who couldn't kick straight to save himself but was all over the ball and chasing like a madman. Most of our goals came from free kicks, which pleased the local Essendon yokels no end. They were claiming conspiracy so stridently that you'd think that they were playing for their own finals spot, not to put Footscray in as part of some bizarre North/West Melbourne alliance.
By three-quarter time we were three goals up and if it wasn't looking over it was certainly going that way. It looked as if we'd finally shaken Essendon off, and even their mutant fans in the pissed bogan standing section under the giant Steven Kernahan poster in the bottom of the Southern Stand, had finally started to calm down and realise that they follow a side that is, for the moment, complete rubbish. We kicked the first of the last quarter and against any team it would be party time - but for those of us who remember being 42pts up against them in 1991, kicking the first of the last quarter and still losing by a point we will never settle for such a lead. It was quite a traumatic experience that has scarred me ever since. Next thing you knew Daniel Bell had broken his ankle, we were five points in front and some guy called Angus Monfries who I'd quite legitimately never heard of before was kicking for his third goal. He missed and we were holding on, clearly having run out of legs. Adem Yze was clearly not interested, he couldn't even be bothered chasing. If he's injured and is only playing to try and crack the consecutive games record then everyone involved in that idea should be lined up at the MCG and shot.
And then, just as I had to consult some guy standing in front of me to make sure that a draw put us in the 8, Robbo picked up the ball and hoofed it at goal. "FUCKING GO FOR A POINT" I screamed, for no apparent reason, as it looked as if the thing was going to sail out of bounds and leave us clinging to a lead like a shipwreck survivor on a raft, when suddenly it took the greatest bounce in VFL/AFL history and turned into a goal instead. Exciting times. Until the siren went and I realised that truly all we had "achieved" this season was to finish lower than last year, and fall into the finals where we will presumably be crushed like Chinese dissidents.
We finished the day with
But we won. And that's all that matters I suppose. First consecutive finals since 1990/91. To be entirely honest I was more excited at seeing Carroll and Nicholson killing it in the backline than any suggestion that we're going to take the finals by storm. Bring on '06 and let's get it RIGHT next time.
Demonblog.com Player of the Year votes
5 - Travis Johnstone
4 - Nathan Carroll
3 - Shannon Motlop
2 - Nathan Brown
1 - Paul Wheatley
Minus votes to the AFL for scheduling our first final on Saturday afternoon so I can't go. Feel free to write a review. I would chuck a sickie if I hadn't completely lost interest in this season last week. This is, I'm aware, almost sacrilegious but bad luck - I've have enough. If we win this, and I'm sure Geelong will be out to wreck us after what happened a couple of weeks back, we're going to get hammered anyway.
Player of the Year Leaderboard
Travis takes a near unassailable lead into the (potential) final round. Farcical scenario as I think Robertson has been our key player this season, and I'd give him the award in a minute. Thankfully for Travis the world's most undemocratic award is heading his way despite being second best.
38 - Travis Johnstone
33 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
12 - Jeff White
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
8 - Nathan Brown
7 - Nathan Carroll
6 - Clint Bizzell, Shannon Motlop
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Paul Wheatley
2 - Matthew Whelan, Guy Rigoni
1 - Ben Holland
Friday, 26 August 2005
Sunday Scoreboard
So.. this is it. We play Essendon on Sunday and by that point will know for sure that nothing other than a win will put us in the top 8. Now, it's not as important for us to make it as it is to Richmond fans who have seen two finals series in twenty years, but it would be nice to get amongst the 8 and hope that a round of ritual animal sacrifice can see us pull a wild fluke and win the flag.
Now.. Demonblog.com Suicide Sunday was almost called off due to our outrageous last fortnight of thrilling wins but due to huge public support it's BACK ON - and will be renamed Celebration Sunday if we make the 8, and the toaster will be used for making food instead of topping ourselves.
The details?
When: Sunday, August 28th from 5pm onwards
Where: The Joint - upstairs at the corner of Elizabeth Street and Flinders Lane, Melbourne
The agenda: Wild celebration or anti-Essendon paranoia.
RSVP: Pff.. You act as if we're organised
Look out for this guy (pictured amongst post Geelong scenes of jubiliation),
He's my.. erm.. twin brother.
See you there - win, lose or arrest.
Now.. Demonblog.com Suicide Sunday was almost called off due to our outrageous last fortnight of thrilling wins but due to huge public support it's BACK ON - and will be renamed Celebration Sunday if we make the 8, and the toaster will be used for making food instead of topping ourselves.
The details?
When: Sunday, August 28th from 5pm onwards
Where: The Joint - upstairs at the corner of Elizabeth Street and Flinders Lane, Melbourne
The agenda: Wild celebration or anti-Essendon paranoia.
RSVP: Pff.. You act as if we're organised
Look out for this guy (pictured amongst post Geelong scenes of jubiliation),
He's my.. erm.. twin brother.
See you there - win, lose or arrest.
Monday, 22 August 2005
Son, I'm afraid we're going to have put your puppy down
No recap? Not true, there's a special guest one coming soon.
And Jesus H. Christ what a finish. Like a complete clown I wasn't at the game because I'd already ditched work to go to Geelong and couldn't afford a repeat performance the next week, so I walk in the door at the start of the fourth quarter and start listening to it on the radio. We're getting done over, I'm preparing my obituaries and just how I'm going to top myself when odd things begin to happen. The comeback is on AGAIN. Suddenly we're within a goal and I'm jumping around my bedroom like an absolute knob. The pacing around takes me into my bathroom just as Jeff White gets the free kick and I end up on the floor curled up in a foetal position as the kick is taken. When it goes in I just yelled a huge "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH" that caused my flatmate to enquire as to whether I was alright or not.
Thus followed wild singing of the song on my own. Sad but true.
And heresssssssssssssss a match report - thanks to Peter of Glutbusters,
After a match like this one, the importance of what actually happened
pales into insignificance when placed beside the emotional journey us
fans were taken on. By now, you've read match reviews, you know what
happened. If you don't, you're not going to get it here. Try
RealFooty or the club's site. Because I don't have the strength.
Let me instead take you through the last quarter.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Me
My Dad - longer-suffering than I. He held my hand while I stood in
the mud as the Dees beat Footscray at the Western Oval in Round 22 of
1987 to make their first finals series in 23 years. Bought me
"Robbie", by Robert Flower (with Ron Reed). The first time I saw him
cry was when Gary Buckenara crushed our hearts three weeks later. I
barrack for Melbourne because he threatened me with familial
excommunication if I didn't. Tough love.
The Redhead - doesn't know a lot about football, but is learning. Is
appropriately loyal to her team (Brisbane) for appropriate reasons
(she was born there and lived in Fitzroy). Understands my irrational
emotional involvement.
My Mum - Doesn't really "get" football. Used to barrack for Carlton.
Now tolerates Melbourne for our sake. Talks loudly throughout game
because of headphones. She does, however, bring tea and cake.
So we're a couple of goals down at three-quarter time and, frankly,
that's flattering cause, apart from a few brief periods here and
there, they're playing all over us. I think they snagged the first of
the last. Not looking good. Dark glances exchanged with my father.
Mother thinks Aaron Davey having a shocker. Peter's response: "he's
playing a blinder, Mum". Subtext: Please, shut up.
Brad Johnson, who I will reluctantly concede can play, then curls one
back for the Dogs to go, I don't know, 21 points up? Thereabouts,
anyway. We're looking at four goals. Cooney flies out of the centre
and misses. Darker glances exchanged with Dad. This could get ugly.
Maybe Giansiracusa missed one now? Maybe that was later... Who knows?
Who cares? It's time-on. We need four goals. Suicide Sunday comes a
week early, and the Redhead's looking at a beating.
The next twenty minutes is a blur. I'll probably get the order wrong.
Who cares? The Mot (sadly having given up the short-lived number 53
and back to the more traditional number 44 - you can buy the 53 on
eBay) finds Jeff White. Three goals. Yze miraculously sharks a kick-
in. Two goals. TJ hits Philthy Phil on the tit sixty out from a
kickout, Philthy hits Nathan Brown (best game for the year), Dog
pumps it long and HMAS Holland takes, believe it or not, a pack mark.
Any pleasure I was deriving from this game had long since ceased.
Now, the knot in my stomach threatens to erupt. Is there anyone you
would less like lining up? Simon Godfrey? Jamie Duursma? Christopher
Reeve? Somehow he kicks it. It's three points or something. 29
minutes gone.
Me and Dad are head in hands. Can't watch. Redhead is discreetly
silent. Mother heard to comment: "isn't this exciting?" Supreme
effort of will required to avoid ugly scene. I have no idea how it
got down there. Travis, probably. Or Moloney. Someone missed. Or it
was rushed. Cooney marked the kickout. Neitz ran away. Cooney looked
more alone than I've ever seen anyone on a footy field. Had no idea.
Davey teleported to beside him as he went to kick. Smother. Throw in.
Free kick to Jeff White that was IN NO WAY DUBIOUS. Rode it through
from directly behind him. Wild scenes followed by two more minutes of
near-vomitous tension. Siren.
Now the interesting bit: tears. Last week at Geelong, I sang loudly,
hugged complete strangers, made remarks pertaining to inbreeding to
Geelong locals, perhaps even mentioned Alicia Horan (admittedly a
lowpoint). Saturday, the relief of it all just got the better of me
and I wept, not uncontrollably, but with less decorum than I expected
of myself. Kids in front of me were nudging their mates and saying
"dude, check out that guy crying". My mother gave me a clean
handkerchief and all was forgiven. The Redhead gave me a hug. Dad and
I just shared a look in which was contained my deepest thanks for
putting me through the pain that leads to moments like this. The song
was sung, but I couldn't make the words. My hands shook for an hour.
If our season ends there, it was worth it. Top 5 ever. Equal with
Geelong last week. Almost better than Carlton in the Qualifying Final
2000, rivalling Footscray '87.
Votes? What the hell do I know? I couldn't even watch it. These are
cribbed shamelessly from newspaper reports:
5 - Travis Johnstone - he hits tit, he hit it all night, he hit it
when it counted. Untouchable.
4 - Russell Robertson - you kick 6, you get votes.
3 - Jeff White - rucked all night, kicked a couple. Bless.
2 - Nathan Brown - apparently got a lot of kicks. Ran very, very hard.
1 - Daniel Bell - a little controversial, but he stepped up an
blanketed Robert Murphy in the last when it counted. The kid can play.
Honourable mentions:
Adem Yze - running off the back flank, it was the Yze of old. And
snagged a couple in the last. Welcome back.
Guy Rigoni - you never left.
Aaron Davey - if we're not there, we have the GF sprint stitched up.
Nathan Carroll - getting handier every week, and poleaxed Nathan
Eagleton with a ripper bump.
Neale Daniher - for a post match display of fist-pumping glee that
rivals Malcolm Blight's run onto the ground.
And the rest. You're all winners.
----
Adam here again. For the votes I've stuck Peter's together with MadDemon and Marns in the comments to come up with the following,
5 - Jeff White
4 - Russell Robertson
3 - Nathan Brown
2 - Travis Johnstone
1 - Guy Rigoni
Leaderboard is as follows - remember that if we make the finals votes in those games COUNT. Is this a democratic award? Not in the slightest.
33 - Travis Johnstone
33 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
12 - Jeff White
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell, Nathan Brown
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan, Guy Rigoni
1 - Ben Holland
We have a thrilling tie going into the (potential) last round as I realise that I had Robertson in the mix twice and had to merge the two. Who will take the most prestigious prize in sports? Your guess is as good as mine.
And Jesus H. Christ what a finish. Like a complete clown I wasn't at the game because I'd already ditched work to go to Geelong and couldn't afford a repeat performance the next week, so I walk in the door at the start of the fourth quarter and start listening to it on the radio. We're getting done over, I'm preparing my obituaries and just how I'm going to top myself when odd things begin to happen. The comeback is on AGAIN. Suddenly we're within a goal and I'm jumping around my bedroom like an absolute knob. The pacing around takes me into my bathroom just as Jeff White gets the free kick and I end up on the floor curled up in a foetal position as the kick is taken. When it goes in I just yelled a huge "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH" that caused my flatmate to enquire as to whether I was alright or not.
Thus followed wild singing of the song on my own. Sad but true.
And heresssssssssssssss a match report - thanks to Peter of Glutbusters,
After a match like this one, the importance of what actually happened
pales into insignificance when placed beside the emotional journey us
fans were taken on. By now, you've read match reviews, you know what
happened. If you don't, you're not going to get it here. Try
RealFooty or the club's site. Because I don't have the strength.
Let me instead take you through the last quarter.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Me
My Dad - longer-suffering than I. He held my hand while I stood in
the mud as the Dees beat Footscray at the Western Oval in Round 22 of
1987 to make their first finals series in 23 years. Bought me
"Robbie", by Robert Flower (with Ron Reed). The first time I saw him
cry was when Gary Buckenara crushed our hearts three weeks later. I
barrack for Melbourne because he threatened me with familial
excommunication if I didn't. Tough love.
The Redhead - doesn't know a lot about football, but is learning. Is
appropriately loyal to her team (Brisbane) for appropriate reasons
(she was born there and lived in Fitzroy). Understands my irrational
emotional involvement.
My Mum - Doesn't really "get" football. Used to barrack for Carlton.
Now tolerates Melbourne for our sake. Talks loudly throughout game
because of headphones. She does, however, bring tea and cake.
So we're a couple of goals down at three-quarter time and, frankly,
that's flattering cause, apart from a few brief periods here and
there, they're playing all over us. I think they snagged the first of
the last. Not looking good. Dark glances exchanged with my father.
Mother thinks Aaron Davey having a shocker. Peter's response: "he's
playing a blinder, Mum". Subtext: Please, shut up.
Brad Johnson, who I will reluctantly concede can play, then curls one
back for the Dogs to go, I don't know, 21 points up? Thereabouts,
anyway. We're looking at four goals. Cooney flies out of the centre
and misses. Darker glances exchanged with Dad. This could get ugly.
Maybe Giansiracusa missed one now? Maybe that was later... Who knows?
Who cares? It's time-on. We need four goals. Suicide Sunday comes a
week early, and the Redhead's looking at a beating.
The next twenty minutes is a blur. I'll probably get the order wrong.
Who cares? The Mot (sadly having given up the short-lived number 53
and back to the more traditional number 44 - you can buy the 53 on
eBay) finds Jeff White. Three goals. Yze miraculously sharks a kick-
in. Two goals. TJ hits Philthy Phil on the tit sixty out from a
kickout, Philthy hits Nathan Brown (best game for the year), Dog
pumps it long and HMAS Holland takes, believe it or not, a pack mark.
Any pleasure I was deriving from this game had long since ceased.
Now, the knot in my stomach threatens to erupt. Is there anyone you
would less like lining up? Simon Godfrey? Jamie Duursma? Christopher
Reeve? Somehow he kicks it. It's three points or something. 29
minutes gone.
Me and Dad are head in hands. Can't watch. Redhead is discreetly
silent. Mother heard to comment: "isn't this exciting?" Supreme
effort of will required to avoid ugly scene. I have no idea how it
got down there. Travis, probably. Or Moloney. Someone missed. Or it
was rushed. Cooney marked the kickout. Neitz ran away. Cooney looked
more alone than I've ever seen anyone on a footy field. Had no idea.
Davey teleported to beside him as he went to kick. Smother. Throw in.
Free kick to Jeff White that was IN NO WAY DUBIOUS. Rode it through
from directly behind him. Wild scenes followed by two more minutes of
near-vomitous tension. Siren.
Now the interesting bit: tears. Last week at Geelong, I sang loudly,
hugged complete strangers, made remarks pertaining to inbreeding to
Geelong locals, perhaps even mentioned Alicia Horan (admittedly a
lowpoint). Saturday, the relief of it all just got the better of me
and I wept, not uncontrollably, but with less decorum than I expected
of myself. Kids in front of me were nudging their mates and saying
"dude, check out that guy crying". My mother gave me a clean
handkerchief and all was forgiven. The Redhead gave me a hug. Dad and
I just shared a look in which was contained my deepest thanks for
putting me through the pain that leads to moments like this. The song
was sung, but I couldn't make the words. My hands shook for an hour.
If our season ends there, it was worth it. Top 5 ever. Equal with
Geelong last week. Almost better than Carlton in the Qualifying Final
2000, rivalling Footscray '87.
Votes? What the hell do I know? I couldn't even watch it. These are
cribbed shamelessly from newspaper reports:
5 - Travis Johnstone - he hits tit, he hit it all night, he hit it
when it counted. Untouchable.
4 - Russell Robertson - you kick 6, you get votes.
3 - Jeff White - rucked all night, kicked a couple. Bless.
2 - Nathan Brown - apparently got a lot of kicks. Ran very, very hard.
1 - Daniel Bell - a little controversial, but he stepped up an
blanketed Robert Murphy in the last when it counted. The kid can play.
Honourable mentions:
Adem Yze - running off the back flank, it was the Yze of old. And
snagged a couple in the last. Welcome back.
Guy Rigoni - you never left.
Aaron Davey - if we're not there, we have the GF sprint stitched up.
Nathan Carroll - getting handier every week, and poleaxed Nathan
Eagleton with a ripper bump.
Neale Daniher - for a post match display of fist-pumping glee that
rivals Malcolm Blight's run onto the ground.
And the rest. You're all winners.
----
Adam here again. For the votes I've stuck Peter's together with MadDemon and Marns in the comments to come up with the following,
5 - Jeff White
4 - Russell Robertson
3 - Nathan Brown
2 - Travis Johnstone
1 - Guy Rigoni
Leaderboard is as follows - remember that if we make the finals votes in those games COUNT. Is this a democratic award? Not in the slightest.
33 - Travis Johnstone
33 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
12 - Jeff White
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell, Nathan Brown
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan, Guy Rigoni
1 - Ben Holland
We have a thrilling tie going into the (potential) last round as I realise that I had Robertson in the mix twice and had to merge the two. Who will take the most prestigious prize in sports? Your guess is as good as mine.
Saturday, 20 August 2005
Greatest game ever hangover
I still haven't recovered from last week. If we get done over this week I'll choose to think that the season ended at 4.52pm last Saturday afternoon.
Any idea why Ferguson was dropped so we could have Carroll and Nicholson in the same forward line? I'm flummoxed. No surprises that Bizzell has been given the arse though, given that he's done nothing for weeks.
I won't even be at the game. I think we'll get done. First person to comment with votes gets to have them counted towards the Player of the Year votes.
Demonblog sez: Footscray by 16
UPDATE - It's not by personal choice that I won't be there, I've already ditched work once last week to go and another would be pushing it. Sadly BigFooty don't pay me enough (or anything for that matter) to write full time for them.
Any idea why Ferguson was dropped so we could have Carroll and Nicholson in the same forward line? I'm flummoxed. No surprises that Bizzell has been given the arse though, given that he's done nothing for weeks.
I won't even be at the game. I think we'll get done. First person to comment with votes gets to have them counted towards the Player of the Year votes.
Demonblog sez: Footscray by 16
UPDATE - It's not by personal choice that I won't be there, I've already ditched work once last week to go and another would be pushing it. Sadly BigFooty don't pay me enough (or anything for that matter) to write full time for them.
Saturday, 13 August 2005
You're 1 point down, you come from a shit town
What a day. What a game. What a moment. I can't say I've ever been at a game decided in that fashion before, but it's fair to say that it now ranks in my top 10 matches of all time.
Standing on the concrete steps, in the bogan section with special Wide World of Blog guests 1 and 2 we stared down a seven game losing streak, a seventeen year record of failure in Geelong and a stadium full of toothless clowns and came out with the points.
The first news on arrival - other than a celebrity stalking moment when I walked past Paul Gardiner at the gate - was that Brad Green's new robotic claw hadn't come up fit, and our man PHILTHY PHIL was back in action. Godfrey and Read in the same team? Farce. The big news from the other camp was than Nathan Ablett was in, and didn't the Geelong mutants go absolutely ape (or more ape) when they heard that. No need to put too much pressure on the kid or anything - he actually started at full-forward as well.
But do we care about them? Not in the slightest. The fact of the matter is we came out playing like complete slop and by the 10m mark of the second quarter we were five goals down and even N. Ablett was getting amongst it - much to the joy of the clowns in attendance.. At some point in the first quarter Nicholson got ripped off by the worst throwing-the-ball decision ever, when he executed a perfect handball and was pinged. The Geelong player in question was good enough to realise the injustice and miss the kick. At halftime we were 30 pts down and it was a question of how early the first train back to Melbourne left so we could escape rural Victoria.
Special mention at this point to the rejects standing behind us doing the traditional "yell out 'hillarious' things in front of your mates to look butch" manouevre, but was dragging out some of the worst efforts in the history of that noble game. "LOOK! IT'S VAL KILMER!" he screamed out as some guy walked past. Who the fuck has heard of Val Kilmer in the last decade? Hillariously bad, and no pop from ANYONE for it - not even the sort of stooges that will laugh at anything their mate says.
Then, just as we were looking as healthy as Joe Korp, a moment. An epiphany if you will. Somebody kicked a goal, buggered if I can remember who to be honest, and then Cameron "Padded Cell" Mooney lost the plot in back-play to give Godfrey a shot from 30y out a few seconds later. The man who shouldn't be in the team, despite what Kevin Bartlett thinks, kicked the goal anyway and we were SOME chance. Not much though, let's be honest, and then when a shonky 50m penalty/evener up gifted them a goal it appeared to have shut the door again. Then something wild happened, we stepped up to a level not seen for two weeks, the Cats shit themselves something shocking and we stormed back not only into contention but into the lead. Russell Robertson was running riot, in the abscence of Neitz who had been shuffled from forward, to back, to the bench after his sticky tape knee finally gave up on him and Steve Armstrong, the most persecuted man since Chris Lamb, kicked another to see us take the lead into 3/4 time.
It should also be noted that at some point Shannon Motlop, who played another decent game, got belted and was pissing blood everywhere. When he re-emerged he was wearing #53. Why did we just have a #53 jumper sitting around? If was a 54 a'la Brent Heaver I would have fallen apart. As it was "The Mot" did more than enough chasing and groundwork to justify keeping his spot next week - especially in the abscence of any real standouts in the 2's.
Now I'd seen this before. Last year to be accurate, and if history taught us anything it was that we would fold like a house and cards and be belted by six goals after they'd given us hope of a drought busting victory. Looked bad as well, after we copped a couple of goals early in the last and were 15pts down at the 13 minute mark with Matthew Whelan knocked goofy. I had a unbridled passion moment when they goaled and a thing of indeterminate sex stood up in front of us and started clapping wildly in the air. My response to this is unpublishable just in case this person actually was a shemale and my stream of abuse contravened the Victorian Equal Opportunity Act of 1995. Was probably over the top but in the circumstances I'm not prepared to apologise.
Then suddenly the Robertson show took off as he added his 6th and record breaking 7th and we hit the front.
The next five minutes was officially the most tense thing I have ever been involved in during my life as we guarded a three point lead with our lives in the face of constant pressure. Even 90's References Man had shut the fuck up due to the tension. Somebody took a shot roll towards goal and saw it nutmeg Alistair "traffic cone" Nicholson and smash into the goalpost. If it were the Wizard Cup it would have stayed in play and been gleefully smashed home for the winning goal - but it's not so it wasn't. Bad luck.
We were now a point up with the time approaching 29m on the clock. Any minute now. People are running around going "how long is left?" as we desperately defended. Then suddenly out of nowhere the ball is kicked out of a pack and lands in the hands of my new favourite Geelong player Matthew Egan. I said "he's going to kick this after the siren" just as the fucking thing went and the whole place stopped. All I remember is turning around and slapping the concrete step behind me. He runs up and belts it, from our angle it looks as if it's flying through the middle and the Cat Bogans around us begin to celebrate. Then it becomes clear that it's shanked to the left and we've won by a point.
Oh. My. God. That was the scenario that the term "wild scenes" was invented for. I've never seen anything like it, people were jumping around hugging each other, complete strangers were exchanging high fives in celebration and god knows what else. I'd like to write a description of the picture I can see clearly in my mind but alas to commit that to words you'd need to be Shakespeare. You had to be there. I moderately lost the plot at anything and everything around me - I can't even remember hearing the theme song but I was yelling it out, doing crotch chops at random passing bogans and screaming something about people living in cardboard boxes. It was madness. At least if I'd been drinking there would have been an excuse. It was undoubtedly the biggest UBP session I'd ever been involved in. I can imagine that's the kind of scenario that would follow a Grand Final victory.
DEMONBLOG.COM Player of the Year Votes
5 - Russell Robertson (didn't see that coming did you? The man has ascended to godlike status)
4 - Brent Moloney (STICK Brad Ottens. We've got the class act)
3 - Travis Johnstone (Strengthening his grip on the title - even if I would give it to Robbo if I could)
2 - Jeff White (One of the few occasions all year when he's dominated out of the centre)
1 - Guy Rigoni (Probably his last top line performance)
Apologies to Davey, McLean and Holland.
Negatives to the two complete bogans who engaged us in conversation whilst trying to dodge the conductor on the V/Line train on the way back. They got away with it by fleeing at Werribee AND the clowns standing behind us doing jokes that The Comedy Company would have rejected as pissweak. Some minus points, again, to myself for the anti-ladyboy spray during the 3rd quarter and the completely random indecent and offensive gestures to passers by after the siren.
LEADERBOARD
31 - Travis Johnstone
26 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
7 - Jeff White
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
1 - Ben Holland, Guy Rigoni
Next week: Footscray on Saturday night at Telstra Dome. We couldn't could we? Not twice in a row? Can we still make the 8? Gah I don't know. We'll only find out next week.
Epilogue: I can never hope to describe what happened at the end of that game, but there are pictures of me going off my nut that should indicate some of the scenes. They will be posted soon - unless I decide I'm looking fat and frumpy and ban them.
Standing on the concrete steps, in the bogan section with special Wide World of Blog guests 1 and 2 we stared down a seven game losing streak, a seventeen year record of failure in Geelong and a stadium full of toothless clowns and came out with the points.
The first news on arrival - other than a celebrity stalking moment when I walked past Paul Gardiner at the gate - was that Brad Green's new robotic claw hadn't come up fit, and our man PHILTHY PHIL was back in action. Godfrey and Read in the same team? Farce. The big news from the other camp was than Nathan Ablett was in, and didn't the Geelong mutants go absolutely ape (or more ape) when they heard that. No need to put too much pressure on the kid or anything - he actually started at full-forward as well.
But do we care about them? Not in the slightest. The fact of the matter is we came out playing like complete slop and by the 10m mark of the second quarter we were five goals down and even N. Ablett was getting amongst it - much to the joy of the clowns in attendance.. At some point in the first quarter Nicholson got ripped off by the worst throwing-the-ball decision ever, when he executed a perfect handball and was pinged. The Geelong player in question was good enough to realise the injustice and miss the kick. At halftime we were 30 pts down and it was a question of how early the first train back to Melbourne left so we could escape rural Victoria.
Special mention at this point to the rejects standing behind us doing the traditional "yell out 'hillarious' things in front of your mates to look butch" manouevre, but was dragging out some of the worst efforts in the history of that noble game. "LOOK! IT'S VAL KILMER!" he screamed out as some guy walked past. Who the fuck has heard of Val Kilmer in the last decade? Hillariously bad, and no pop from ANYONE for it - not even the sort of stooges that will laugh at anything their mate says.
Then, just as we were looking as healthy as Joe Korp, a moment. An epiphany if you will. Somebody kicked a goal, buggered if I can remember who to be honest, and then Cameron "Padded Cell" Mooney lost the plot in back-play to give Godfrey a shot from 30y out a few seconds later. The man who shouldn't be in the team, despite what Kevin Bartlett thinks, kicked the goal anyway and we were SOME chance. Not much though, let's be honest, and then when a shonky 50m penalty/evener up gifted them a goal it appeared to have shut the door again. Then something wild happened, we stepped up to a level not seen for two weeks, the Cats shit themselves something shocking and we stormed back not only into contention but into the lead. Russell Robertson was running riot, in the abscence of Neitz who had been shuffled from forward, to back, to the bench after his sticky tape knee finally gave up on him and Steve Armstrong, the most persecuted man since Chris Lamb, kicked another to see us take the lead into 3/4 time.
It should also be noted that at some point Shannon Motlop, who played another decent game, got belted and was pissing blood everywhere. When he re-emerged he was wearing #53. Why did we just have a #53 jumper sitting around? If was a 54 a'la Brent Heaver I would have fallen apart. As it was "The Mot" did more than enough chasing and groundwork to justify keeping his spot next week - especially in the abscence of any real standouts in the 2's.
Now I'd seen this before. Last year to be accurate, and if history taught us anything it was that we would fold like a house and cards and be belted by six goals after they'd given us hope of a drought busting victory. Looked bad as well, after we copped a couple of goals early in the last and were 15pts down at the 13 minute mark with Matthew Whelan knocked goofy. I had a unbridled passion moment when they goaled and a thing of indeterminate sex stood up in front of us and started clapping wildly in the air. My response to this is unpublishable just in case this person actually was a shemale and my stream of abuse contravened the Victorian Equal Opportunity Act of 1995. Was probably over the top but in the circumstances I'm not prepared to apologise.
Then suddenly the Robertson show took off as he added his 6th and record breaking 7th and we hit the front.
The next five minutes was officially the most tense thing I have ever been involved in during my life as we guarded a three point lead with our lives in the face of constant pressure. Even 90's References Man had shut the fuck up due to the tension. Somebody took a shot roll towards goal and saw it nutmeg Alistair "traffic cone" Nicholson and smash into the goalpost. If it were the Wizard Cup it would have stayed in play and been gleefully smashed home for the winning goal - but it's not so it wasn't. Bad luck.
We were now a point up with the time approaching 29m on the clock. Any minute now. People are running around going "how long is left?" as we desperately defended. Then suddenly out of nowhere the ball is kicked out of a pack and lands in the hands of my new favourite Geelong player Matthew Egan. I said "he's going to kick this after the siren" just as the fucking thing went and the whole place stopped. All I remember is turning around and slapping the concrete step behind me. He runs up and belts it, from our angle it looks as if it's flying through the middle and the Cat Bogans around us begin to celebrate. Then it becomes clear that it's shanked to the left and we've won by a point.
Oh. My. God. That was the scenario that the term "wild scenes" was invented for. I've never seen anything like it, people were jumping around hugging each other, complete strangers were exchanging high fives in celebration and god knows what else. I'd like to write a description of the picture I can see clearly in my mind but alas to commit that to words you'd need to be Shakespeare. You had to be there. I moderately lost the plot at anything and everything around me - I can't even remember hearing the theme song but I was yelling it out, doing crotch chops at random passing bogans and screaming something about people living in cardboard boxes. It was madness. At least if I'd been drinking there would have been an excuse. It was undoubtedly the biggest UBP session I'd ever been involved in. I can imagine that's the kind of scenario that would follow a Grand Final victory.
DEMONBLOG.COM Player of the Year Votes
5 - Russell Robertson (didn't see that coming did you? The man has ascended to godlike status)
4 - Brent Moloney (STICK Brad Ottens. We've got the class act)
3 - Travis Johnstone (Strengthening his grip on the title - even if I would give it to Robbo if I could)
2 - Jeff White (One of the few occasions all year when he's dominated out of the centre)
1 - Guy Rigoni (Probably his last top line performance)
Apologies to Davey, McLean and Holland.
Negatives to the two complete bogans who engaged us in conversation whilst trying to dodge the conductor on the V/Line train on the way back. They got away with it by fleeing at Werribee AND the clowns standing behind us doing jokes that The Comedy Company would have rejected as pissweak. Some minus points, again, to myself for the anti-ladyboy spray during the 3rd quarter and the completely random indecent and offensive gestures to passers by after the siren.
LEADERBOARD
31 - Travis Johnstone
26 - Russell Robertson
23 - Brad Green
21 - Brent Moloney
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
7 - Jeff White
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
1 - Ben Holland, Guy Rigoni
Next week: Footscray on Saturday night at Telstra Dome. We couldn't could we? Not twice in a row? Can we still make the 8? Gah I don't know. We'll only find out next week.
Epilogue: I can never hope to describe what happened at the end of that game, but there are pictures of me going off my nut that should indicate some of the scenes. They will be posted soon - unless I decide I'm looking fat and frumpy and ban them.
Thursday, 11 August 2005
Urgent Announcement
At 8pm, on Thursday August 11th, 2005 Demonblog.com and the Supermercado Project officially withdrew it's support for Neale Daniher and the Melbourne Football Club match committee. The news was prompted by the following change in the side for the crucial match against Geelong,
IN: Neitz, Green, Johnstone, Whelan
OUT: Ward, P.Johnson, C.Johnson, Read
As leaders and major sponsors of the Phil Read Phaction, will not stand for our man being persecuted in favour of the likes of Simon Godfrey and Steven Armstrong whose futures at the club are shaky at best.
We now call on Daniher and his coaching staff to resign immediately and make way for somebody who can appreciate the raw animal power of Philthy Phil.
IN: Neitz, Green, Johnstone, Whelan
OUT: Ward, P.Johnson, C.Johnson, Read
As leaders and major sponsors of the Phil Read Phaction, will not stand for our man being persecuted in favour of the likes of Simon Godfrey and Steven Armstrong whose futures at the club are shaky at best.
We now call on Daniher and his coaching staff to resign immediately and make way for somebody who can appreciate the raw animal power of Philthy Phil.
The early train leaves at 2.30
To paraphrase Morrissey (as opposed to just ripping him off wholesale, as for this blog's title), "Oh Geelong, so much to answer for".
What's worse than six losses in a row? Losing seven players at once for the next one! And what's worse than losing that as well? Having to travel the next week to somewhere the team hasn't won since 1988 with your last shreds of finals hope resting on it. How depressing.
Now you're all familiar with our record in Geelong, but I defy you to actually explain it. "Sleepy Hollow" - as clowns will often refer to it - is a small town, just an hours drive from Melbourne via the Westgate Bridge. Since 1988 we have won in Sydney, Brisbane, Adelaide, Perth, Canberra and Wellington but for reasons unknown we can't take a trip down the highway, tonk some country bogans on and off the field and come back with the four points.
Luckily I missed a few years of this travelling slop carnival. When we last won there, on July 2nd 1988, I was still about three months away from actually deciding I liked football. By the time we travelled there again, in 1990, I was right on board with the sport but flatly refused to go to any game that wasn't played at the MCG - I was an odd child. When we were tonked there in 1992 the ban had been somewhat lifted to allow trips to Waverley but all other venues were still out. See also 1994. '95-'96, as you may remember, were a complete wipeout after Allen Jakovich got delisted and I refused to watch football in protest and we didn't play there in '97 or '98 so the first time I had the pleasure of visting was Round 3, 1999.
Ahh I remember it like it was yesterday - which is odd because there's very little else from 1999-2002 that I can recall. It was a week after I swore off drinking for life at AFL events after narrowly avoiding a group mashing at the hands of some white trash St. Kilda fans after making the most inappropriate comment EVER to one of them. Bearing this in mind I made my first appearance at Kardinia Park (or whatever gimmick name it had at the time) wondering not if, but when, the first fists would be thrown. Personally I'm a peace loving hippy but you make one comment about somebody's mum and wild scenes just seem to eventuate.
I caught the train there, which was a must because not only could I drive but I legitimately didn't know where Geelong was. I'd never been there once so it was all a bit of a mystery. I got to the ground so early I watched the full 4 quarters of the reserves game for the first time ever. Much bonding was had with our fellow supporters, and things were looking lovely. Then the game started - and to be honest I don't remember any of it except that Glenn Lovett was making his much awaited comeback that ended up lasting about two seconds. A look at the game stats shows that despite having such AFL legends as Luke Ottens, Troy Longmuir and Scott Chisholm (already shit) in our side we still shockingly failed to record a victory. I'm as shocked as you are. Inaccuracy murdered us in the 12.19.91 to 14.13.97 loss - with Neitz (0.4) and Robertson (1.3) the major offenders. Matthew Febey ran riot with 27 touches and 2.2 (!?) but still got the arse in the Brownlow votes for Todd Viney who had 22 and didn't score. A particular highlight was having to hold a fat woman back from punching on with a male Cats fan - looking back I actually think she would have been a fair chance.
Significantly I saw the most comic bit of AFL crowd violence ever after the game. This skinhead (!) in a Melbourne jacket is walking down the street and some Geelong crunt starts taunting him. Suddenly skin just charges this guy and the local pissbolts down the street. He then proceeds to scramble in his car and unwisely give it to skin even more before driving off. He then has one of his headlights kicked to buggery and a fair belting dealt out to his panel work before he could get away. The only time I ever saw skin again was as he was being "spoken to" by police on Spencer Street station after a game at Colonial Stadium a few years later. What a gun - where is he now?
The next year we made a Grand Final (hah I know!) but still couldn't win there. I know I was there but cannot remember one second of it - but apparently S. Woewodin scored three votes in the Brownlow and as you'd remember went on to earn me $1000 by somehow winning the whole thing.
At some point there was that pre-season game that got called off when the sprinklers exploded everywhere and completely rooted the field. No idea what year it was but I was not only there BUT I was also amongst the 500 people who rocked up to Waverley Park on Monday night for the replay - which naturally we lost.
I was OUT of our 2002 clash, and indeed most of the season, due to rotten finances. Unfortunately this means I missed the day that Al Nicholson somehow ended up in the forward line (obviously because our forwards were complete rubbish) and kicked two of his three career goals. Darren Jolly chimed in as well with two of his 11 MFC goals, which made it a huge day for gimmick players given that we only managed 9 for the entire day. Even Kent Kingsley kicked 6.4 - which is just a slap in the face.
I was back in action for '03, only to see us play an even worse attacking performance than '02 - with only 6 goals for the entire day. Even Kingsley, torturing the hapless N. Carroll in his debut, managed 5.2. We took the early train. Somehow Chris Heffernan got a Brownlow Vote - and you'll probably never see that again. This game significantly marked the debut of the "YEAH? WELL AT LEAST I DON'T LIVE IN GEELONG" line.
Last year was an odd one. The train left 20 minutes early and screwed over one of our faction, because we'd won about a million games in a row our carriage was full of idiots singing the theme song BEFORE the game and announcing we were going to win by a hundred to the poor bastard Cat fan only to see some of the worst football ever perpetrated. 5 minutes into the 3rd quarter we're 40 points down and while I'm trying to find a noose to neck up with the guy standing next to me is just pumping us up "COME ON BOYS! WE'RE NOT DONE YET! BOUNCE BACK DEMONS!" etc.. Ironic considering I'm the most negative fan ever, but we were a wild double act. All these Geelong bastards are standing around pissing themselves laughing at him, but suddenly we get a run on, are storming home kicking goals from everywhere and all around us is dead silence. You could see the terror in their faces at the prospect of us getting up and this guy doing wild celebrations. Luckily for them we folded like a house of cards and they got to act like millionares despite living in the shittest place this side of Baghdad. We caught the specially decorated "Melbourne train" back in silence - sadly the bloody thing didn't derail.
So, this year. Well we've beaten them once on one of the greatest nights of Demonblog's career - when the balaclava was debuted and the Premiership Liberation Faction was born. We mocked Kingsley then but his record against us in Geelong says that he'll probably rip us a new asshole on Sunday to make up for it.
The Premiership Liberation Front (aka: the Phil Read Phaction) will be in attendance, and you're invited to join us behind the goals at the standing room end. How will you recognise us? Well we'll be the ones looking as if we're about to top ourselves. I suppose that's all MFC fans to be honest - just comment or email (supermercado AT demonblog.com) if you want directions. Come and join in the sadness with us. You might even score a vote if we play badly enough.
Given our position as the revolutionary left faction of the Melbourne Football Club we may be displaying our official flag at various times throughout the afternoon,
What about the game itself - that is probably what you came here to read about. Well the fact is that they're playing as badly as we are - and at least we've lost to finals contenders in the last few weeks rather than the trash they have. I can almost see potential for an upset here, but not quite. It's appalling to think that if we win this (IF) that we can still make the 8, but for now it's the truth. I'd almost prefer that our season was already dicked so we could go down there with no stress and just enjoy the prospect of completely fucking up the Cats finals chances - and telling them all about it - if we got up. Alas there's still a bit of oxygen wafting through so the stress level will be at a million.
The Demonblog.com/TSP Prediction: Geelong by 22 - Ryan Ferguson to continue the trend of gimmick goalkickers with 3 for the losers. Kent Kingsley with 13 if Nathan Carroll comes back and lines up on him.
Can this season end quick enough?
UPDATE - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT'S ON SATURDAY? What fixture have I been looking at? Now I'm going to have to chuck a sickie in order to go.
What's worse than six losses in a row? Losing seven players at once for the next one! And what's worse than losing that as well? Having to travel the next week to somewhere the team hasn't won since 1988 with your last shreds of finals hope resting on it. How depressing.
Now you're all familiar with our record in Geelong, but I defy you to actually explain it. "Sleepy Hollow" - as clowns will often refer to it - is a small town, just an hours drive from Melbourne via the Westgate Bridge. Since 1988 we have won in Sydney, Brisbane, Adelaide, Perth, Canberra and Wellington but for reasons unknown we can't take a trip down the highway, tonk some country bogans on and off the field and come back with the four points.
Luckily I missed a few years of this travelling slop carnival. When we last won there, on July 2nd 1988, I was still about three months away from actually deciding I liked football. By the time we travelled there again, in 1990, I was right on board with the sport but flatly refused to go to any game that wasn't played at the MCG - I was an odd child. When we were tonked there in 1992 the ban had been somewhat lifted to allow trips to Waverley but all other venues were still out. See also 1994. '95-'96, as you may remember, were a complete wipeout after Allen Jakovich got delisted and I refused to watch football in protest and we didn't play there in '97 or '98 so the first time I had the pleasure of visting was Round 3, 1999.
Ahh I remember it like it was yesterday - which is odd because there's very little else from 1999-2002 that I can recall. It was a week after I swore off drinking for life at AFL events after narrowly avoiding a group mashing at the hands of some white trash St. Kilda fans after making the most inappropriate comment EVER to one of them. Bearing this in mind I made my first appearance at Kardinia Park (or whatever gimmick name it had at the time) wondering not if, but when, the first fists would be thrown. Personally I'm a peace loving hippy but you make one comment about somebody's mum and wild scenes just seem to eventuate.
I caught the train there, which was a must because not only could I drive but I legitimately didn't know where Geelong was. I'd never been there once so it was all a bit of a mystery. I got to the ground so early I watched the full 4 quarters of the reserves game for the first time ever. Much bonding was had with our fellow supporters, and things were looking lovely. Then the game started - and to be honest I don't remember any of it except that Glenn Lovett was making his much awaited comeback that ended up lasting about two seconds. A look at the game stats shows that despite having such AFL legends as Luke Ottens, Troy Longmuir and Scott Chisholm (already shit) in our side we still shockingly failed to record a victory. I'm as shocked as you are. Inaccuracy murdered us in the 12.19.91 to 14.13.97 loss - with Neitz (0.4) and Robertson (1.3) the major offenders. Matthew Febey ran riot with 27 touches and 2.2 (!?) but still got the arse in the Brownlow votes for Todd Viney who had 22 and didn't score. A particular highlight was having to hold a fat woman back from punching on with a male Cats fan - looking back I actually think she would have been a fair chance.
Significantly I saw the most comic bit of AFL crowd violence ever after the game. This skinhead (!) in a Melbourne jacket is walking down the street and some Geelong crunt starts taunting him. Suddenly skin just charges this guy and the local pissbolts down the street. He then proceeds to scramble in his car and unwisely give it to skin even more before driving off. He then has one of his headlights kicked to buggery and a fair belting dealt out to his panel work before he could get away. The only time I ever saw skin again was as he was being "spoken to" by police on Spencer Street station after a game at Colonial Stadium a few years later. What a gun - where is he now?
The next year we made a Grand Final (hah I know!) but still couldn't win there. I know I was there but cannot remember one second of it - but apparently S. Woewodin scored three votes in the Brownlow and as you'd remember went on to earn me $1000 by somehow winning the whole thing.
At some point there was that pre-season game that got called off when the sprinklers exploded everywhere and completely rooted the field. No idea what year it was but I was not only there BUT I was also amongst the 500 people who rocked up to Waverley Park on Monday night for the replay - which naturally we lost.
I was OUT of our 2002 clash, and indeed most of the season, due to rotten finances. Unfortunately this means I missed the day that Al Nicholson somehow ended up in the forward line (obviously because our forwards were complete rubbish) and kicked two of his three career goals. Darren Jolly chimed in as well with two of his 11 MFC goals, which made it a huge day for gimmick players given that we only managed 9 for the entire day. Even Kent Kingsley kicked 6.4 - which is just a slap in the face.
I was back in action for '03, only to see us play an even worse attacking performance than '02 - with only 6 goals for the entire day. Even Kingsley, torturing the hapless N. Carroll in his debut, managed 5.2. We took the early train. Somehow Chris Heffernan got a Brownlow Vote - and you'll probably never see that again. This game significantly marked the debut of the "YEAH? WELL AT LEAST I DON'T LIVE IN GEELONG" line.
Last year was an odd one. The train left 20 minutes early and screwed over one of our faction, because we'd won about a million games in a row our carriage was full of idiots singing the theme song BEFORE the game and announcing we were going to win by a hundred to the poor bastard Cat fan only to see some of the worst football ever perpetrated. 5 minutes into the 3rd quarter we're 40 points down and while I'm trying to find a noose to neck up with the guy standing next to me is just pumping us up "COME ON BOYS! WE'RE NOT DONE YET! BOUNCE BACK DEMONS!" etc.. Ironic considering I'm the most negative fan ever, but we were a wild double act. All these Geelong bastards are standing around pissing themselves laughing at him, but suddenly we get a run on, are storming home kicking goals from everywhere and all around us is dead silence. You could see the terror in their faces at the prospect of us getting up and this guy doing wild celebrations. Luckily for them we folded like a house of cards and they got to act like millionares despite living in the shittest place this side of Baghdad. We caught the specially decorated "Melbourne train" back in silence - sadly the bloody thing didn't derail.
So, this year. Well we've beaten them once on one of the greatest nights of Demonblog's career - when the balaclava was debuted and the Premiership Liberation Faction was born. We mocked Kingsley then but his record against us in Geelong says that he'll probably rip us a new asshole on Sunday to make up for it.
The Premiership Liberation Front (aka: the Phil Read Phaction) will be in attendance, and you're invited to join us behind the goals at the standing room end. How will you recognise us? Well we'll be the ones looking as if we're about to top ourselves. I suppose that's all MFC fans to be honest - just comment or email (supermercado AT demonblog.com) if you want directions. Come and join in the sadness with us. You might even score a vote if we play badly enough.
Given our position as the revolutionary left faction of the Melbourne Football Club we may be displaying our official flag at various times throughout the afternoon,
What about the game itself - that is probably what you came here to read about. Well the fact is that they're playing as badly as we are - and at least we've lost to finals contenders in the last few weeks rather than the trash they have. I can almost see potential for an upset here, but not quite. It's appalling to think that if we win this (IF) that we can still make the 8, but for now it's the truth. I'd almost prefer that our season was already dicked so we could go down there with no stress and just enjoy the prospect of completely fucking up the Cats finals chances - and telling them all about it - if we got up. Alas there's still a bit of oxygen wafting through so the stress level will be at a million.
The Demonblog.com/TSP Prediction: Geelong by 22 - Ryan Ferguson to continue the trend of gimmick goalkickers with 3 for the losers. Kent Kingsley with 13 if Nathan Carroll comes back and lines up on him.
Can this season end quick enough?
UPDATE - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT'S ON SATURDAY? What fixture have I been looking at? Now I'm going to have to chuck a sickie in order to go.
Monday, 8 August 2005
Announcement
Still here? You're probably the only one. Anyway, for too long the players of clubs have had all the fun drowning their sorrows at the end of a long season - but what about the long suffering fans? Where's our chance to get arrested? They call it Mad Monday, but we're now proud to announce that Every Day Is Like Sunday is presenting (in association with our major sponsors Gilette and Johnny Walker) the first annual,
Suggestions on venue to SUPERMERCADO at DEMONBLOG.COM
SUICIDE
SUNDAY
What?: End of Season drinks and seasonal post-mortem with the MFC internet fan community
When?: The moment the final siren goes in Round 22 (Sunday August 28th vs Essendon @ the MCG)
Where?: Somewhere in the city where there won't be any fans of other clubs.
Why?: Drown your sorrows amongst friends as we unite all the Melbourne FC online groups for the first time in a mass sobfest to mourn the season that never was
Suggestions on venue to SUPERMERCADO at DEMONBLOG.COM
Saturday, 6 August 2005
Death by Football
Pre-Game
* Welcome to the Every Day Is Like Sunday liveblog of the Adelaide Crows vs Sandringham Zebras clash from Football Park, Adelaide. The Crows are on fire while the Zebras have been promoted from the VFA this week to replace the Melbourne Football Club who are out with a serious (lack of) heart condition.
* Fox Footy are kind enough to show us stats that announce that for the Rounds 13-18 we are the worst side ever to play AFL/VFL football. Somewhere there's a group of Fitzroy fans pissing themselves laughing and wildly celebrating that somebody has finally beaten their record for slop.
First Quarter
* Shock fucking horror as we lose the first clearance, and concede the first inside 50. Then we also give away the first free kick and cop the first big tackle. You know what comes next.. Though we have gone 2 minutes now without conceding any points, which might be a good start.
* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL by Shannon Motlop. We conceded everything first but the goal. Our chances of winning are now officially 17%
* 13.23 to go and we're still 6-0 up. HIT THE BOUNDARY etc.. I can just see this going backwards very quickly as Rigoni does his second "Kick to space for no reason" manouevre of the day.
* Feck it. Cheap free kick outside 50 leads to Adelaide goal. 7-6. Melbourne Win Index (MWI) = 10%
* And after farcical defensive football inside 50 it's 7-13 and we're done for the day. As much as I demanded Steven Armstrong be in the senior squad you'd want to ask him exactly how he expected to pick up a ball rolling along the ground without actually bending over. MWI = 8%
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - Shannon Motlop again. MWI = 12% and rising as we go into quarter time just three points down. Mind you, if you take any notice of what the commentary team are saying (and bear in mind that it contains Kevin "Simon Godfrey is one of the best kicks in this team!" Bartlett) we're an absolute organisational rabble. They then try and tell us that it was a "great quarter" when in reality it was ultimate slop, so there's a fair to medium chance that they're talking out of their arses. We certainly look like a shambles going forward though, every kick anywhere near Robertson has been shit and apart from Motlop on the deck it doesn't look like we actually have any forwards. *sigh* We're screwed.
Second Quarter
* For some reason Ben Holland is running around like a midfielder despite being slower than a grandmother. I'm not one of the great football minds of the 21st century but wouldn't it make sense to put him up forward and take some of the focus off Robertson?
* Another fucking goal. Wheatley kicks from inside 50 straight onto an opponents chest and then Nicholson, who obviously hasn't actually been watching this season, mistakes an umpire's "hurry up" for a "play on", charges down and cops a 50m penalty that brings the ball into the goalsquare. The commentary team, farces that they are, try to pretend that he was hard done by. How? Where's Clinton Grybas when you need him? MWI = 6%
* GODFREY IS SHIT. GET OFF. Good thing that the Crows clearly can't be bothered and are allowing him to get away with his parade of clangers. Could be worse I suppose, Luke Williams wouldn't get a touch in the first place.
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - And then the big "fuck you" as Godfrey kicks a goal. A more unscrupulous person would delete the last comment and pretend they loved him the whole time, but not me. Quoth KB, "Melbourne supporters love him in the side just because of his toughness". KB is off his face, what do you think Phil Read is there for? His rugged good looks? MWI = 9%
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - Wtf is going on. Yze kicks another one after the assist from Robertson and we're actually winning this fucking thing. It cannot last. MWI = 15% WITH A BULLET.
* We then get the repayment for the alleged Nicholson debacle from earlier in the quarter as Scott (come back I implore you) Thompson marks inside 50, takes one step, is called to play on and gets drilled in a tackle. Lovely. I'm upgrading the win index to 16% just because I can. But then two seconds later we cop a goal anyway and it goes straight back down to 11%
* And another one. Shithouse disposal AGAIN hands the Crows a goal on a silver platter. MWI is finished, it's right down to 4% and plummeting as Adelaide are about to explode and we're about to fall apart as usual. Do you think we'd be doing any better if our "stars" were in the side though? I certainly don't. What does that say to you?
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE. Three in a row for the Crows and stick a fork in us THIS ONE IS DONE. Here's a photographic representation of the last five minutes,
And the Zeppelin only just manages to avoid crashing straight into a bus of school children and nuns just a few seconds later as Goodwin runs into an open goal and misses. There is every possible chance that their may be further flight disasters throughout this game. MWI = 1% and almost expired. In fact, to avoid wasting precious bandwith, and in light of the fact that Crows have had three more scoring shots and hit the post twice since the goal, let's just call it 0% now. We are done and I can, instead, spend the rest of the match wailing about the unfairness of life.
* GOAL Aaron Davey after a dubious holding the ball free. I suppose this technically increases our chance of winning - as we now go to half-time only 15 points down but lets be completely honest and say that we've got absolutely no chance.
Third Quarter
* Look, I'll be honest with you. I can't be bothered anymore. I'm too depressed with this season to go on. Jeff White goaled, Ryan Ferguson flattened some Adelaide stooge with a Lex Luger-esque forearm smash, then Shannon Motlop goaled as well and again we're back within 4 points.
* KB AGAIN waffles on about how much "we" wanted Godfrey in the side. What MFC fans does this clown surround himself with? Probably the same people who were in love with Scott Chisholm.
* Then we died in the arse again and copped a couple of goals.
Fourth Quarter
* Ahh fuck it. We just folded. Season over.
The week's "NO JUSTIFICATION" Votes. Brought to you in association with our sponsors the Right To Die Lobby.
5 - Daniel Bell
4 - Adem Yze
3 - Shannon Motlop
2 - Ryan Ferguson
1 - Ben Holland
Leaderboard. Winner gets a bucket of slop.
28 - Travis Johnstone
23 - Brad Green
21 - Russell Robertson
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce, Brent Moloney
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Jeff White, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
1 - Ben Holland
Next week? Ahhh who gives a shit.
* Welcome to the Every Day Is Like Sunday liveblog of the Adelaide Crows vs Sandringham Zebras clash from Football Park, Adelaide. The Crows are on fire while the Zebras have been promoted from the VFA this week to replace the Melbourne Football Club who are out with a serious (lack of) heart condition.
* Fox Footy are kind enough to show us stats that announce that for the Rounds 13-18 we are the worst side ever to play AFL/VFL football. Somewhere there's a group of Fitzroy fans pissing themselves laughing and wildly celebrating that somebody has finally beaten their record for slop.
First Quarter
* Shock fucking horror as we lose the first clearance, and concede the first inside 50. Then we also give away the first free kick and cop the first big tackle. You know what comes next.. Though we have gone 2 minutes now without conceding any points, which might be a good start.
* AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL by Shannon Motlop. We conceded everything first but the goal. Our chances of winning are now officially 17%
* 13.23 to go and we're still 6-0 up. HIT THE BOUNDARY etc.. I can just see this going backwards very quickly as Rigoni does his second "Kick to space for no reason" manouevre of the day.
* Feck it. Cheap free kick outside 50 leads to Adelaide goal. 7-6. Melbourne Win Index (MWI) = 10%
* And after farcical defensive football inside 50 it's 7-13 and we're done for the day. As much as I demanded Steven Armstrong be in the senior squad you'd want to ask him exactly how he expected to pick up a ball rolling along the ground without actually bending over. MWI = 8%
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - Shannon Motlop again. MWI = 12% and rising as we go into quarter time just three points down. Mind you, if you take any notice of what the commentary team are saying (and bear in mind that it contains Kevin "Simon Godfrey is one of the best kicks in this team!" Bartlett) we're an absolute organisational rabble. They then try and tell us that it was a "great quarter" when in reality it was ultimate slop, so there's a fair to medium chance that they're talking out of their arses. We certainly look like a shambles going forward though, every kick anywhere near Robertson has been shit and apart from Motlop on the deck it doesn't look like we actually have any forwards. *sigh* We're screwed.
Second Quarter
* For some reason Ben Holland is running around like a midfielder despite being slower than a grandmother. I'm not one of the great football minds of the 21st century but wouldn't it make sense to put him up forward and take some of the focus off Robertson?
* Another fucking goal. Wheatley kicks from inside 50 straight onto an opponents chest and then Nicholson, who obviously hasn't actually been watching this season, mistakes an umpire's "hurry up" for a "play on", charges down and cops a 50m penalty that brings the ball into the goalsquare. The commentary team, farces that they are, try to pretend that he was hard done by. How? Where's Clinton Grybas when you need him? MWI = 6%
* GODFREY IS SHIT. GET OFF. Good thing that the Crows clearly can't be bothered and are allowing him to get away with his parade of clangers. Could be worse I suppose, Luke Williams wouldn't get a touch in the first place.
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - And then the big "fuck you" as Godfrey kicks a goal. A more unscrupulous person would delete the last comment and pretend they loved him the whole time, but not me. Quoth KB, "Melbourne supporters love him in the side just because of his toughness". KB is off his face, what do you think Phil Read is there for? His rugged good looks? MWI = 9%
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL - Wtf is going on. Yze kicks another one after the assist from Robertson and we're actually winning this fucking thing. It cannot last. MWI = 15% WITH A BULLET.
* We then get the repayment for the alleged Nicholson debacle from earlier in the quarter as Scott (come back I implore you) Thompson marks inside 50, takes one step, is called to play on and gets drilled in a tackle. Lovely. I'm upgrading the win index to 16% just because I can. But then two seconds later we cop a goal anyway and it goes straight back down to 11%
* And another one. Shithouse disposal AGAIN hands the Crows a goal on a silver platter. MWI is finished, it's right down to 4% and plummeting as Adelaide are about to explode and we're about to fall apart as usual. Do you think we'd be doing any better if our "stars" were in the side though? I certainly don't. What does that say to you?
* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOONE. Three in a row for the Crows and stick a fork in us THIS ONE IS DONE. Here's a photographic representation of the last five minutes,
And the Zeppelin only just manages to avoid crashing straight into a bus of school children and nuns just a few seconds later as Goodwin runs into an open goal and misses. There is every possible chance that their may be further flight disasters throughout this game. MWI = 1% and almost expired. In fact, to avoid wasting precious bandwith, and in light of the fact that Crows have had three more scoring shots and hit the post twice since the goal, let's just call it 0% now. We are done and I can, instead, spend the rest of the match wailing about the unfairness of life.
* GOAL Aaron Davey after a dubious holding the ball free. I suppose this technically increases our chance of winning - as we now go to half-time only 15 points down but lets be completely honest and say that we've got absolutely no chance.
Third Quarter
* Look, I'll be honest with you. I can't be bothered anymore. I'm too depressed with this season to go on. Jeff White goaled, Ryan Ferguson flattened some Adelaide stooge with a Lex Luger-esque forearm smash, then Shannon Motlop goaled as well and again we're back within 4 points.
* KB AGAIN waffles on about how much "we" wanted Godfrey in the side. What MFC fans does this clown surround himself with? Probably the same people who were in love with Scott Chisholm.
* Then we died in the arse again and copped a couple of goals.
Fourth Quarter
* Ahh fuck it. We just folded. Season over.
The week's "NO JUSTIFICATION" Votes. Brought to you in association with our sponsors the Right To Die Lobby.
5 - Daniel Bell
4 - Adem Yze
3 - Shannon Motlop
2 - Ryan Ferguson
1 - Ben Holland
Leaderboard. Winner gets a bucket of slop.
28 - Travis Johnstone
23 - Brad Green
21 - Russell Robertson
18 - Adem Yze
17 - Cameron Bruce, Brent Moloney
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey, Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Jeff White, Daniel Bell
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll, Shannon Motlop
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
1 - Ben Holland
Next week? Ahhh who gives a shit.
Thursday, 4 August 2005
Special Crisis Updates. More News at 11
I wrote a substantial post on the changes for Saturday's game. Then I closed the window without saving it. This is a metaphor for our season. On that note fuck the analysis, just read them and weep..
IN: Rigoni, Godfrey, Motlop, Bell, Nicholson, Brown, Armstrong
OUT: Bruce (knee-medial), Green (fractured finger), Carroll (concussion), Neitz, (strained knee), Whelan (susp), McDonald (shoulder), Johnstone (flu)
Now why exactly Travis Johnstone had to get the flu this week rather than any other is a mystery to me - and further proof as far as I'm concerned that there is no god - but given the black death style plague that has befallen us it's to be expected. Our resources are so stretched that Cameron f'ing Hunter has even managed to score a spot amongst the emergencies, and he hasn't played (or put on a pound) in two years.
Speaking of people who haven't been seen for two years I'm starting a pressure group to bring Nick Smith back. Sure he only played 2nd's for Sandy last week but it's just the kind of wild gimmick selection we need to throw the cast amongst the pigeons,
Vote 1. Contact your member of Parliament.
The Demonblog Prediction: After seeing our side they certainly won't be playing the shitty defensive football they did when we beat them earlier in the year. Goals, goals, goals and Adelaide by 74 points at least.
IN: Rigoni, Godfrey, Motlop, Bell, Nicholson, Brown, Armstrong
OUT: Bruce (knee-medial), Green (fractured finger), Carroll (concussion), Neitz, (strained knee), Whelan (susp), McDonald (shoulder), Johnstone (flu)
Now why exactly Travis Johnstone had to get the flu this week rather than any other is a mystery to me - and further proof as far as I'm concerned that there is no god - but given the black death style plague that has befallen us it's to be expected. Our resources are so stretched that Cameron f'ing Hunter has even managed to score a spot amongst the emergencies, and he hasn't played (or put on a pound) in two years.
Speaking of people who haven't been seen for two years I'm starting a pressure group to bring Nick Smith back. Sure he only played 2nd's for Sandy last week but it's just the kind of wild gimmick selection we need to throw the cast amongst the pigeons,
Vote 1. Contact your member of Parliament.
The Demonblog Prediction: After seeing our side they certainly won't be playing the shitty defensive football they did when we beat them earlier in the year. Goals, goals, goals and Adelaide by 74 points at least.
Allen Jakovich Day 2005
One thing we neglected to mention in the midst of our post St. Kilda wrist slashing was the passing of the most sacred holiday on the Every Day Is Like Sunday calendar - Allen Jakovich Day.
You think I'm making this up? Pff. Shame on you. Read our 2003 and 2004 tributes to the great man. Sadly there's very little else to say today, but I did have a dream the other night that took place in the early 90's. He kicked a shitload of goals yet nothing really happened - which pretty much explains his entire career in one sentence.
It's my mission in life to interview the greatest man ever to be a great man one-on-one. Pass on any information you have via the usual address (supermercado AT demonblog.com) and we'll shoot for a 2006 Jakovich Day spectacular like no other.
Your memories in the comments please.
P.S - It is an absolutely 100% correct and true Demonblog.com FACT that I threw a colossal hissy fit and refused to follow AFL for two years when he was delisted and thus missed the whole '95 and '96 seasons. Sad but true. What would you have had me do? I was young and in love...
You think I'm making this up? Pff. Shame on you. Read our 2003 and 2004 tributes to the great man. Sadly there's very little else to say today, but I did have a dream the other night that took place in the early 90's. He kicked a shitload of goals yet nothing really happened - which pretty much explains his entire career in one sentence.
It's my mission in life to interview the greatest man ever to be a great man one-on-one. Pass on any information you have via the usual address (supermercado AT demonblog.com) and we'll shoot for a 2006 Jakovich Day spectacular like no other.
Your memories in the comments please.
P.S - It is an absolutely 100% correct and true Demonblog.com FACT that I threw a colossal hissy fit and refused to follow AFL for two years when he was delisted and thus missed the whole '95 and '96 seasons. Sad but true. What would you have had me do? I was young and in love...
Oi You
You will not see the following image if you are involved with the Melbourne Football Club in 2005.
But thanks to Every Day Is Like Sunday you, the humble football supporter, can still be a winner even when your team has fallen apart faster than Michael Jackson's face. For anyone who has forgotten it (i.e everyone) our FANTASTIC FOOTY FLASHBACKS competition is still on. We have one framed group of Melbourne trading cards (2004 "top 8 side" model featuring Chris Lamb) to give away to the person who sends in the best shot of them posing with a Melbourne player.
We currently have one entrant who has ripped out shots of her with BOTH Cockatoo-Collins brothers and Duncan O'Toole. Duncan O'Who? Exactly. Top that. Entries close the minute we are mathematically unable to make the Final 8.
Send your entries to SUPERMERCADO at DEMONBLOG.COM immediately. My dream of finding Simon Eishold and paying him $20 to deliver it to your house personally may have died in the arse but it's still a prize worth winning.
Special thanks to our major sponsors Big Footy and Footyblogs
But thanks to Every Day Is Like Sunday you, the humble football supporter, can still be a winner even when your team has fallen apart faster than Michael Jackson's face. For anyone who has forgotten it (i.e everyone) our FANTASTIC FOOTY FLASHBACKS competition is still on. We have one framed group of Melbourne trading cards (2004 "top 8 side" model featuring Chris Lamb) to give away to the person who sends in the best shot of them posing with a Melbourne player.
We currently have one entrant who has ripped out shots of her with BOTH Cockatoo-Collins brothers and Duncan O'Toole. Duncan O'Who? Exactly. Top that. Entries close the minute we are mathematically unable to make the Final 8.
Send your entries to SUPERMERCADO at DEMONBLOG.COM immediately. My dream of finding Simon Eishold and paying him $20 to deliver it to your house personally may have died in the arse but it's still a prize worth winning.
Special thanks to our major sponsors Big Footy and Footyblogs
Monday, 1 August 2005
We Are The World
As you may have heard somewhere - the Melbourne Football Club 2005 season has officially passed away. I'd like to say "rest in peace" but I will, instead, say "rest very badly you softcocks". Read this if you're really interested in the full story of my massive mental meltdown on Saturday. If you'd rather just see it in pictures go here instead - you sadistic bastard.
The reason we're here today is to pay musical tribute to Colin "Wave of the Future" Sylvia who, after being dropped for no good reason, did his shoulder in the 2nd's and is out for the entire season. Now just as the rest of the squad have died or been suspended and there's every possible chance of the clowns in the coaches box letting him play four quarters he's out. Sport is rotten - never get involved in it.
Download: Pulp - Sylvia (5.5mb)
Not specifically concerning the great man himself, especially given that it's about a woman, but there's more then a few clues in the lyrics,
She's living in the country now (country = the reserves)
Oh, she's trying to get better (*sob* injured)
Who's this man you're talking to? (N. Daniher?)
Can't you see what he wants to do? (Well nobody else can by the look of it)
Yeah you know that you deserve better. (CORRECT. Sandringham is for Luke Williams. Not the Wave of the Future)
Oh Sylvia. (*wail*)
Even more impressively the song was released in 1998 (album - This Is Hardcore = criminally underrated), predating Colin's debut by a full six years.
Get well soon. Because the rest of our list isn't.
The reason we're here today is to pay musical tribute to Colin "Wave of the Future" Sylvia who, after being dropped for no good reason, did his shoulder in the 2nd's and is out for the entire season. Now just as the rest of the squad have died or been suspended and there's every possible chance of the clowns in the coaches box letting him play four quarters he's out. Sport is rotten - never get involved in it.
Download: Pulp - Sylvia (5.5mb)
Not specifically concerning the great man himself, especially given that it's about a woman, but there's more then a few clues in the lyrics,
She's living in the country now (country = the reserves)
Oh, she's trying to get better (*sob* injured)
Who's this man you're talking to? (N. Daniher?)
Can't you see what he wants to do? (Well nobody else can by the look of it)
Yeah you know that you deserve better. (CORRECT. Sandringham is for Luke Williams. Not the Wave of the Future)
Oh Sylvia. (*wail*)
Even more impressively the song was released in 1998 (album - This Is Hardcore = criminally underrated), predating Colin's debut by a full six years.
Get well soon. Because the rest of our list isn't.
We keep our toaster in the bathtub
Every single person on earth knew we were going to get pounded yesterday. Even the people who pick us every week just because they want us to win knew deep down that they were wasting a selection when they tipped us. Sure, stranger things have happened over the years but there was just never any prospect of us getting up on that particular Saturday afternoon at the G.
For all the voodoo rituals and sacrifices we'd performed beforehand, you could tell how it was going to turn out in the first few seconds. Entire starting 18 attempt to beat on Nick Riewoldt in a misguided attempt to look hard despite the fact that about 15 of them are complete cream puffs who couldn't scare your grandmother (Miller, Neitz, Read - you are the exceptions) and it predictably turned out to be a massive failure.
First bounce, ruck infringement, 50m penalty, goal.
Another pointless free kick another goal.
And so on and so forth until we were four goals down within ten minutes and it was looking ugly. Somehow, mainly due to Russell Robertson continuing his career year, we actually ended up within range late in the quarter. But when the ball rolled around for ten minutes and dropped to Nick Dal Santo, who proceeded to beat FIVE FARKING PLAYERS and snap his 4th goal of the quarter it was time to bust out the razor blades and start chopping ourselves to pieces.
Crowd watch: Clowns sitting behind us calling everything a disgrace and weak/dogs/shit etc.. I don't understand this concept - they earn $250,000 a year and can score hot women despite often looking like the back end of a horse and they're a disgrace? We're the idiots who have actually forked over money to go in, sit there being fat and unfit, swilling bourbon and cokes from a plastic cup @ $9 a shot and watch them. I'll never get it. Much like, as we've previously discussed, how idiots boo and lose the plot when the opposition rush a behind but go wild in celebration when their own side does it. 40000 people sit there whinging about the umpires being inconsistent and they don't see the irony? We're all scum.
Erm anyway.. we were technically still in it but the final nail in the already tightly sealed coffin came when somebody (Wheatley?) shanked a kick 25m along the boundary line, got done for deliberate and we conceded a goal straight away. Stick a knife in them, they're done. We bravely soldiered onto half-time and remained within striking distance. Obviously the talk in the sheds at half-time was all about how the 3rd quarter would make or break our season and how the boys had to get amongst it and show some urgency. Sadly I believe this talk was given by Ronald McDonald as we proceeded to play one of the worst quarters I have EVER seen in my life and concede 10.6
It should be noted that at the start of this quarter things had gone completely haywire. For the first time all year Holland was put in the backline, but rather than playing the CHB position that he very well might get away with they put him on Fraser Gehrig instead - with predictably shite results. Obviously as the one person who called for him in the back-half I am prepared to cop shit for this, but I maintain that if it was done right it could work. This time it wasn't. I can't see what was wrong with Carroll, he may have copped a few goals early on but almost every one was after he'd beaten the G(olden Shower) Train in one-on-one contests and seen the ball drop to the ground with absolutely NOBODY in support to clear it. It was quite the impressive performance from Carroll I thought, so it was a shame that he got murdered in a big bump, went off on a stretcher and is every possible chance to miss this week. Just when he'd played two decent games in a row - that's cruel.
The third quarter was also noticeable for the sudden appearance behind us of one of the most irritating groups of football fans - the home commentator. With a radio glued to his ear he would spend the entire quarter orgasmically squealing as the Saints walked all over us. "MILNEY! POWELLY! BLAKEY!" he cried out, adding the Y on the end at earsplitting volume in a shambolic fashion that seemed to suggest he wanted people to think that he was actually familiar to the players and not just some jerkoff who failed in the first round of Channel 31 footy commentator school. The only upside to the whole thing was that he was too busy doing his B. McAvaney impression and pulling himself furiously that he couldn't hear us openly mocking him. He might have been a clown but he was certainly having the last laugh as the Saints rapidly slammed on goals in front of our eyes and took a 78pt lead into 3/4 time. The lowlight of the game - nay the season - was the passage of play where we rebounded out of 50 about four times, twice had players 10m on their own hit pinpoint kicks onto the chest of the opposition and eventually fell apart to concede. Words don't do justice to just how awful it was to watch - it was as if the side has been shredded of all confidence and self-belief and were just shambling around like Fitzroy 1996. If you were there you'd know exactly how bad it was. I think I almost cried.
I just walked out at the 3/4 time siren. I couldn't stand it anymore, and if I had to listen to Kaptain Kommentary doing his continuous call for another 30 minutes I'd have killed myself. It's officially one of the earliest walkouts I've ever involved myself in, but it was necessary. The way it was going we were going to cop another 8 goal quarter and lose by 140, and I wasn't going to stand around and watch that shit. Thankfully the Saints pulled the pin in the last and we kept the damage to a lucky 88. Just wonderful.
Even better when it turned out that in addition to Carroll's kamikaze suicide mission Bruce did his knee, Neitz joined in and did his as well and James McDonald his back. Aren't our "best" 22 enough of a disgrace at the moment without a black death style injury plague on top? God I hate sports. Apparently Whelan is hurt as well, so fuck me let's just forfeit next week already and save ourselves a hammering.
Demonblog.com "Player of the Year" Votes
5 - Russell Robertson
4 - Brent Moloney
3 - Nathan Carroll (Wrecked Gehrig early on, and only copped goals because he had absolutely NO support when the ball hit the deck)
2 - Jeff White (Pff.. I'm struggling)
1 - Adem Yze (3 goals.. that's good enough for 1pt even if he didn't do much else)
Apologies to Read, Miller (christ I'm struggling), Wheatley (!?), Chris Johnson (drop him now and I'll blow something up)
Minuses to Bizzell (didn't even know he was playing until the 3rd quarter), Johnstone, Green (somehow gave away three frees despite being softer than the Stay Puft Marshallow Man), Neitz and the entire Football Club for being a complete farce. Extra minus points to me for picking a side to follow that are destined never to win anything more than the football equivalent of a 2yo Maiden at the Newcastle Trots.
Leaderboard
28 - Travis Johnstone
23 - Brad Green
21 - Russell Robertson
17 - Cameron Bruce, Brent Moloney
14 - Adem Yze
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey
7 - Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Jeff White
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
Fast forward to the 2nds today and Colin Sylvia went arse over, did his shoulder and is probably out for the season. Yeh, great. Thanks for that. Did somebody root a witch in the Junction Oval changerooms? Amongst the best in the 2's were Nicholson (yes, I'll have him back), Godfrey (just say no) and Williams (just say IF YOU PICK HIM I'M GOING TO DRIVE A BUS INTO THE CLUB YOU BASTARDS). One more week of slop and I'm calling for them to play the kids - Nick Smith kicked 6 for the Sandy 2nd's and we may as well give him more senior games soon before he turns into another draft failure.
I haven't turned on Daniher yet, as everyone else seems to be doing, but the next few weeks are going to be crucial. Is he going to do something wild and revolutionary or is he going to go back to the hasbeens and play Rigoni, Williams, Heffernan and Godfrey in an attempt to turn back the clock to 2002. Ten weeks ago I was talking him up as somebody who could be the Premiership coach, and apart from the last five weeks of 2003 I've supported him 100%, but now I'm starting to wonder what sort of changes another coach would make given the chance. Has he run out of good ideas? Is it time for a change. I'm starting to think that the answer may be yes. Doesn't matter, he's got a contract until the end of '07 anyway so unless he walks we'll presumably follow the usual scenario of having a top year in '06, seeing him cop a contract renewal and then being complete horseshit in '07.
Next week: Adelaide at Football Park. Goodnight, thanks for playing and it's been emotional. The only hope we have is that it's low scoring and we can fall over the line in the biggest fluke ever. Changes? Fuck I don't know...
OUT: Everyone
IN: Allen Jakovich, Phil Gilbert, John Howat, Jeff Hilton, Darren Kowal, Matthew Febey, Sean Wight, Jay Viney, Max Walker, The Pope, Condaleeza Rice, Gough Whitlam, Lizzy Birdsworth and Nudge from Hey Dad.
For all the voodoo rituals and sacrifices we'd performed beforehand, you could tell how it was going to turn out in the first few seconds. Entire starting 18 attempt to beat on Nick Riewoldt in a misguided attempt to look hard despite the fact that about 15 of them are complete cream puffs who couldn't scare your grandmother (Miller, Neitz, Read - you are the exceptions) and it predictably turned out to be a massive failure.
First bounce, ruck infringement, 50m penalty, goal.
Another pointless free kick another goal.
And so on and so forth until we were four goals down within ten minutes and it was looking ugly. Somehow, mainly due to Russell Robertson continuing his career year, we actually ended up within range late in the quarter. But when the ball rolled around for ten minutes and dropped to Nick Dal Santo, who proceeded to beat FIVE FARKING PLAYERS and snap his 4th goal of the quarter it was time to bust out the razor blades and start chopping ourselves to pieces.
Crowd watch: Clowns sitting behind us calling everything a disgrace and weak/dogs/shit etc.. I don't understand this concept - they earn $250,000 a year and can score hot women despite often looking like the back end of a horse and they're a disgrace? We're the idiots who have actually forked over money to go in, sit there being fat and unfit, swilling bourbon and cokes from a plastic cup @ $9 a shot and watch them. I'll never get it. Much like, as we've previously discussed, how idiots boo and lose the plot when the opposition rush a behind but go wild in celebration when their own side does it. 40000 people sit there whinging about the umpires being inconsistent and they don't see the irony? We're all scum.
Erm anyway.. we were technically still in it but the final nail in the already tightly sealed coffin came when somebody (Wheatley?) shanked a kick 25m along the boundary line, got done for deliberate and we conceded a goal straight away. Stick a knife in them, they're done. We bravely soldiered onto half-time and remained within striking distance. Obviously the talk in the sheds at half-time was all about how the 3rd quarter would make or break our season and how the boys had to get amongst it and show some urgency. Sadly I believe this talk was given by Ronald McDonald as we proceeded to play one of the worst quarters I have EVER seen in my life and concede 10.6
It should be noted that at the start of this quarter things had gone completely haywire. For the first time all year Holland was put in the backline, but rather than playing the CHB position that he very well might get away with they put him on Fraser Gehrig instead - with predictably shite results. Obviously as the one person who called for him in the back-half I am prepared to cop shit for this, but I maintain that if it was done right it could work. This time it wasn't. I can't see what was wrong with Carroll, he may have copped a few goals early on but almost every one was after he'd beaten the G(olden Shower) Train in one-on-one contests and seen the ball drop to the ground with absolutely NOBODY in support to clear it. It was quite the impressive performance from Carroll I thought, so it was a shame that he got murdered in a big bump, went off on a stretcher and is every possible chance to miss this week. Just when he'd played two decent games in a row - that's cruel.
The third quarter was also noticeable for the sudden appearance behind us of one of the most irritating groups of football fans - the home commentator. With a radio glued to his ear he would spend the entire quarter orgasmically squealing as the Saints walked all over us. "MILNEY! POWELLY! BLAKEY!" he cried out, adding the Y on the end at earsplitting volume in a shambolic fashion that seemed to suggest he wanted people to think that he was actually familiar to the players and not just some jerkoff who failed in the first round of Channel 31 footy commentator school. The only upside to the whole thing was that he was too busy doing his B. McAvaney impression and pulling himself furiously that he couldn't hear us openly mocking him. He might have been a clown but he was certainly having the last laugh as the Saints rapidly slammed on goals in front of our eyes and took a 78pt lead into 3/4 time. The lowlight of the game - nay the season - was the passage of play where we rebounded out of 50 about four times, twice had players 10m on their own hit pinpoint kicks onto the chest of the opposition and eventually fell apart to concede. Words don't do justice to just how awful it was to watch - it was as if the side has been shredded of all confidence and self-belief and were just shambling around like Fitzroy 1996. If you were there you'd know exactly how bad it was. I think I almost cried.
I just walked out at the 3/4 time siren. I couldn't stand it anymore, and if I had to listen to Kaptain Kommentary doing his continuous call for another 30 minutes I'd have killed myself. It's officially one of the earliest walkouts I've ever involved myself in, but it was necessary. The way it was going we were going to cop another 8 goal quarter and lose by 140, and I wasn't going to stand around and watch that shit. Thankfully the Saints pulled the pin in the last and we kept the damage to a lucky 88. Just wonderful.
Even better when it turned out that in addition to Carroll's kamikaze suicide mission Bruce did his knee, Neitz joined in and did his as well and James McDonald his back. Aren't our "best" 22 enough of a disgrace at the moment without a black death style injury plague on top? God I hate sports. Apparently Whelan is hurt as well, so fuck me let's just forfeit next week already and save ourselves a hammering.
Demonblog.com "Player of the Year" Votes
5 - Russell Robertson
4 - Brent Moloney
3 - Nathan Carroll (Wrecked Gehrig early on, and only copped goals because he had absolutely NO support when the ball hit the deck)
2 - Jeff White (Pff.. I'm struggling)
1 - Adem Yze (3 goals.. that's good enough for 1pt even if he didn't do much else)
Apologies to Read, Miller (christ I'm struggling), Wheatley (!?), Chris Johnson (drop him now and I'll blow something up)
Minuses to Bizzell (didn't even know he was playing until the 3rd quarter), Johnstone, Green (somehow gave away three frees despite being softer than the Stay Puft Marshallow Man), Neitz and the entire Football Club for being a complete farce. Extra minus points to me for picking a side to follow that are destined never to win anything more than the football equivalent of a 2yo Maiden at the Newcastle Trots.
Leaderboard
28 - Travis Johnstone
23 - Brad Green
21 - Russell Robertson
17 - Cameron Bruce, Brent Moloney
14 - Adem Yze
10 - Colin Sylvia
9 - Brock McLean, Aaron Davey
7 - Ryan Ferguson
6 - Clint Bizzell
5 - Jared Rivers, David Neitz, Jeff White
4 - Alistair Nicholson, Daniel Ward, Phil Read
3 - James McDonald, Brad Miller, Nathan Brown, Russell Robertson, Nathan Carroll
2 - Paul Wheatley, Matthew Whelan
Fast forward to the 2nds today and Colin Sylvia went arse over, did his shoulder and is probably out for the season. Yeh, great. Thanks for that. Did somebody root a witch in the Junction Oval changerooms? Amongst the best in the 2's were Nicholson (yes, I'll have him back), Godfrey (just say no) and Williams (just say IF YOU PICK HIM I'M GOING TO DRIVE A BUS INTO THE CLUB YOU BASTARDS). One more week of slop and I'm calling for them to play the kids - Nick Smith kicked 6 for the Sandy 2nd's and we may as well give him more senior games soon before he turns into another draft failure.
I haven't turned on Daniher yet, as everyone else seems to be doing, but the next few weeks are going to be crucial. Is he going to do something wild and revolutionary or is he going to go back to the hasbeens and play Rigoni, Williams, Heffernan and Godfrey in an attempt to turn back the clock to 2002. Ten weeks ago I was talking him up as somebody who could be the Premiership coach, and apart from the last five weeks of 2003 I've supported him 100%, but now I'm starting to wonder what sort of changes another coach would make given the chance. Has he run out of good ideas? Is it time for a change. I'm starting to think that the answer may be yes. Doesn't matter, he's got a contract until the end of '07 anyway so unless he walks we'll presumably follow the usual scenario of having a top year in '06, seeing him cop a contract renewal and then being complete horseshit in '07.
Next week: Adelaide at Football Park. Goodnight, thanks for playing and it's been emotional. The only hope we have is that it's low scoring and we can fall over the line in the biggest fluke ever. Changes? Fuck I don't know...
OUT: Everyone
IN: Allen Jakovich, Phil Gilbert, John Howat, Jeff Hilton, Darren Kowal, Matthew Febey, Sean Wight, Jay Viney, Max Walker, The Pope, Condaleeza Rice, Gough Whitlam, Lizzy Birdsworth and Nudge from Hey Dad.
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