Wednesday, 10 June 2026

Result first, process second

I've come to terms with barely seeing any games in person these days, and certainly do not have the remaining nervous system for 90,000 crowds unless there's a final involved. The upside to this is the option of free expression in tense moments, usually while standing behind the couch, gripping it with both hands like somebody clutching the seat in front of them on a plummeting airplane. 

There were so many twists, turns, and moments of outright insanity in the last quarter that Mrs. Demonblog, relocated to another room due to not giving a rats, thought from the sounds of commotion that we'd lost until re-entering during the theme song. It was that sort of game, and for once we found a way to win one, rather than lose in bizarre, and/or distressing circumstances. At three quarter time I was expecting a repeat of last year, when we battled like bastards to stay in the game, took the lead, then suffered collective soilage and got beaten. There were similarities, but a better Melbourne + a worse Collingwood was enough to bridge the margin from last year, even as we tackled the job of winning with the poise of a teenage boy who thinks he's about to get his end away.  

It would be nice to win this fixture comfortably again one of these days. For now, I'm happy to take the points with the same 'slightly guilty, but taking it anyway' expression as Uncle Leo finding a wallet in the bin.

Usually, you can come up with an unscientific/completely made up 'feels like' score for how fair the result feels. This game was the exception that proved the unwritten rule. There are many reasons why we should have pissed this in, and others to justify a comfortable Collingwood victory. Thanks very much to the opposition for embracing the spirit and helping us get over the line.

After already winning BOG on Anzac Eve, this game confirmed Kysaiah Pickett's status as Mr. Public Holiday and Public Holiday Adjacent Football (title may need refinement - editor). The fun started in the opening minute, where after four seconds he gave away a free for running into the umpire, and 38 seconds later kicked the first goal. Suspicions that the AFL makes everything up on the spot were not helped by him avoiding a fine for the umpire contact, while the Collingwood player who conceded a free in similar circumstances later is left writing the proverbial cheque. 

It's rare enough to kick the first goal this year, so getting the first two was nice. I considered it buffer for late rather than any proof that we were going to give the rivalry an extra kick-along by tonking them. Surely there's only so long one side can hoot at Langdon for making duck comparisons and/or launching surprise scrag on Nick Daicos last year. If it was the latter I'd have thought winning the game would be good enough revenge, but these are the same people who were still moaning about May saying we should've beaten them (not without some justification) after winning the flag.

I'm glad we didn't bring back the Langdon tag. Last year it just freed up the other Daicos to run riot, and denied us the Ed everyone wants - pelting along the wing with his tongue poking out.

Key position players have as much of a chance of winning AFL awards as I do Kazakhstani Keno (yes, other than the Coleman), but midway through the first term Petty looked on track for the most random trophy win in history. He set up two red hot chances - one converted, one best left undiscussed - and kicked his second up the chimney, sky-high snap of the year. Can't argue that he's been a better forward than defender this year, and with later developments in this game he'll almost certainly have to stay there. In the unlikely event that I become a mature-age student, my thesis topic will be "Harrison Petty - forward or back?"

No pressure at all on the debuting Kentfield, but his first appearance in front of a crowd bigger than all his VFL appearances combined was as ruck understudy during Gawn's first break. He joined the rare club of players to lose their first boundary throw-in, leading to the other side kicking a belter of a snap, before being shown in the background of the replay with an "aww fuck" expression. No harm done (other than the goal, but can't hold that against him), and he was ok for the rest of the day. Didn't get many touches but competed well, which helps the way we kick it inside 50 like the criminally insane.

We'd waited two years to debut our mid-season pick forward (via a litany of injuries and mishaps so long that commentators didn't have room on the 'fun' facts list for his broken face) but you can imagine what I was thinking when the 27-year-old podiatrist plucked from the VFL weeks ago kicked his first. I was expecting full Adrian McAdam-style debut heroics and him being chaired off in glory, never to get more than one in a game again, before fading into obscurity. He had his chances, especially with our well-documented trouble with being cut to ribbons after turnovers, but I'm pleased to announce the atomic bomb equivalent energy of the Monarch's Birthday Kingsley was warded off.

You couldn't help but notice all our goals were of the 'exciting' variety. Which is nice, but usually can't be sustained long enough to put up a winning score. Highlight of the set shot misses was Harry Sharp running around the man on the mark but not taking into account that there was an entire forward 50 stuffed with defenders, causing him to find traffic about 0.1 second later and have to rush the kick.

I can understand why they kept van Rooyen in the side over Jefferson, but it was less JVR and more Jesus Vucking chRist after his set shot at the end of the quarter. It came from a nice mark, which looked like putting us back in front at quarter time. Then he hit the wrong side of the ball with the snap and it went violently askew. After a high quality first quarter, this was the first sign that the rest of the game was going to be enthusiastically contested but often shambolic.

There was some redemption for JVR with a goal early in the second quarter, and appropriately it came from somebody else's goalkicking cock-up. Pickett (L) did a set shot that was, I think, an attempt to set the ball up to the top of the square that accidentally fell in a perfect spot where the defender could only bump it along with his foot, ultimately leading to a JVR snap. Which was nice, but any danger some bread-and-butter mark/kick goals? As we'll find out later, the odd ball-tearing long distance shot can come in handy, but playing the percentages will have better results in the long run. And now that he's lost his more experienced partner for (surely) the rest of the season, the heat is on him to take the lead alongside inexperienced second bananas like Jefferson or Kentfield.     

There was good news for both the 97% of you who won't stop going on about Maynard and the 3% of us who are sick of hearing about him whenever this fixture is played. *Pop* went his shoulder while attempting a tackle in the first quarter (next time, consider a leaping smother), and off he went looking absolutely crocked. Because this is the AFL's top day for giving injured players another go, he came back after a painkiller that must have been one grade down from heroin to try again, get the inevitable boos, then wreck it a second time by either falling over/being tripped (delete as appropriate for your views) by Mr. PHHAF. 

Pickett did get fined for this, and while the regular whingers from the other camp may want to reflect on previous comments about putting players back on after injury, I'm not sure how allegedly intentional tripping of any sort doesn't end in a suspension. Maybe the AFL just CBF with endless expensive tribunal challenges featuring biomechanics experts debating the difference between deliberate tripping and involuntary muscle spasms. 
 
Kysaiah may have acquired an acronym so awkward I'm obliged to promise it won't become a running gag, but we regret to report that Latrelle's second quarter was one of the all-time shockers. The player ratings can say he got whatever 1.2 represents - and if you're into it, that compares favourably with JVR's -3.2 in the opening term - but it was not good. Plenty have had worse quarters by virtue of not getting near the ball. This was a slapstick collection of blunders that reinforces my view that he has natural talent out the yin yang but still needs plenty of seasoning. After half a season in the AFL, it's a moderate pisstake if he doesn't have to work his way back through Casey. Bailey Laurie would've been watching on as the carry-over emergency thinking, "I'd get chased down the virtual street with pitchforks for playing a quarter like that".

All this was put into nearly tragic perspective by one of the closest calls for a player being crippled in the modern era. There was Mihocek, scrambling around trying to keep a shit kick from rolling out of bounds (thanks last touch rule), when dumped on his head in a tackle by an old premiership teammate. The combination of him lying there motionless, his opponent's genuine "oh shit" reaction, and the replay showing the angle his head hit the ground at, plus the even more cautious than usual medical reaction made it a scary scenario. The fact that he has a fractured neck but can still walk, and that's considered the good outcome shows just how bad it was.

I feel for the bloke who did the tackle, because he wasn't trying to drop Mihocek on his head, but the precedent for copping three weeks when you didn't mean to do anything malicious was set when Steven May got that many after concussing a Carlton player by running into him. No doubt it'll be overturned on appeal via a combination of Collingwood being able to afford better lawyers, and the league feeling the need to blow them at every opportunity for being famous. I don't care if Frampton gets off or not, just that May retrospectively gets his suspension overturned, like one of those people who helpfully gets exonerated on new evidence after they've already gone to the electric chair. Book your table next to Eddie and enjoy the party atmosphere when the appeal gets up.  

I've got NFI how players snap straight back to game mode after seeing something like this, but that's why they're highly trained professionals, and I'm not. Even after playing another 2.5 quarters, enjoying the thrill of victory, and belting out the song with gusto, he was still asking for updates in media interviews. I suppose they think no news is good news and just get on with it, but it's quite the shift in emotions. It's one thing when somebody's being carted off with a blown knee, but this seemed a step-up in severity and they all just get on with it, when any of them could be next. I find it admirable because I'd be completely put off under the same circumstances.

After all that, the game resumed with the guy who'd just inadvertently broken somebody's neck taking a free kick. Which was unusual. I assume there's nothing in the rules allowing players to decline a free for moral reasons, and I'm not saying he should've deliberately booted the ball OOF out of guilt, it's just an anomaly that you can stand around for eight minutes wondering if you've just accidentally paralysed a man, then go back and take your free, with a replacement player standing the mark in place of the guy who's just left the field on a medical cart. Not sure what was gained from the later footage of him being carted towards an ambulance except sensationalism. 

I shouldn't think we'll see Brody back. Surely at that age, having reached the pinnacle of the game, you take nature's yellow card and throw in the towel. For all the "He could have DIED" hysteria, it's different to Petracca having his vital organs rearranged in the same fixture, this may have been millimetres from life in a wheelchair so I wouldn't begrudge him pulling the pin. If he wants to come back he's more than welcome, but if not would still be one of our more memorable 10 game imports - with apologies to the recently headbutted Braydon Preuss.

And so, after several minutes of (at the time) unresolved medical drama, the game went on. I respectfully didn't start carrying on like a pork chop and acting like winning a footy game means anything compared to actual human problems until about five minutes later, when Kentfield got his first career goal. Enough of the human interest shots of a first gamer's nervous family in the crowd. One day somebody will miss five set shots on debut and each one will be preceded by vision of mum pretending she's so nervous she can't watch.

That was about all the positive content available until half time. It's a good thing the dissent rule has been abolished, because when the returning McSizzle cracked it about conceding a pissweak holding free late in the term, the shot missed. He didn't have a great comeback game, but with a dearth (!!) of key position players he should come in handy if we remain anywhere near contention for the real or fake finals. Assuming this is his last year, can we get one more late season game where he plays forward? Maybe in conjunction with Petty and Turner to see what might have been in an alternative (very specifically focused) universe.

We were right in this at the half, but been there/done that against Collingwood in recent years. We were getting no benefit from Gawn winning in the middle, except when he just grabbed the ball and hoofed it forward as far as possible, didn't look any more likely to kick a decent score than last week, and were vulnerable to the ball going from one end to the other at the speed of light, but in many ways still seemed the better team. Which means sod all if you finish with fewer points. 

By the time we'd conceded the first two goals of the third quarter, it looked like a team overawed by the occasion and trying to keep playing at 500km/h even when there was nobody on the other end capable of taking advantage.

Just when it all looked like going tits up, we got a couple of goals in quick succession, causing one of the commentators to talk about playing "shootout football". Which is all very nice when you're scoring from it, but it felt more like we were going for a world record of how wide you can leave a door open (139 metres straight up, apparently) while waiting to be toppled by either the podiatrist, or a guy called 'Buller' who was definitely only playing to set up snow gags.

Enter your friend and mine Harvey Langford for one of the most exciting steadiers you're likely to see, on the run, from a shite angle along the Olympic Stand boundary.  I don't know about any of the other top 20 picks we've had recently (and Windsor... no need to start worrying, but there has to be more than the occasional NBA Jam turbo button run), but Langford is box office gold in the making. I look forward to seven or eight more enjoyable years before we end up paying for him to end his career with Tasmania or AFL team 20 favourites, the Bunbury Muppets.

That goal survived a three-quarter time break where I felt half like spewing. The idea of losing this game in a thriller again was giving me the shits in advance. I wasn't ready to throw in the emotional towel when Mr. Skiing Joke Facilitator marked in the square for the opener. There still had to be time for us to heroically fight back, get in front, then clam up and get run down. That the game ended with us first clamming, then winning via all-out top speed on a wet road style footy still has me baffled two days later.

In a response unlikely to be linked to my criticism last week, Fritsch then turned up for a couple and we were back in front. It made a change from the previous policy of kicking it above his head just enough that Jeremy Howe didn't need to leave his feet to take the intercept mark.

And, with no concern for the blood pressure of easily worried people, we responded to hitting the lead by being plundered at the next centre bounce and almost giving it straight back. This is around when I started making the noises of anguish that made the other half think Collingwood had won. It was also the time the five year old came to join in the fun, and suggested it would be more fun if she cheered for the Dees to win and I went for the other team. Suggestion noted and declined.

This is where an already offbeat game got really silly. I'm happy to provide attractive viewing for neutrals again after years of torment, but only when we win. First they kicked the goal to retake the lead, then the otherwise beloved Turner was caught HTB for what should have extended the margin beyond a goal. That missed, in a way that would have expected score fanatics weeping, and the insanity went on.

We were having so much trouble crafting well-constructed, traditional goals that it was as likely for us to win via kicking several points in a row as from a set shot in the square. A team cannot live on Goal of the Year contenders alone, but with seven minutes left in a thriller, in front of 88,000 people, if easy shots aren't available something like this will do nicely:
Somehow this didn't get nominated for Goal of the Year, but the Daicos one from the first quarter did. That was a fine goal, and may he win the overall award so he gets something on Brownlow night for once, but they obviously don't have a context multiplier like our Davey Medal.

Cross isn't a four quarter player yet, but I appreciate how comfortable he looks at senior level for somebody plucked from VFL obscurity just before the season started. Once you get past the alleged can't miss prospects at the top of the draft, it says a lot for targeting players with senior experience at lower levels who feel like they've got something to prove. 

Also, Paddy, if I can speak to you directly through this medium - for god's sake don't get roped into changing jumper numbers at the end of the year. You're within 25 of the very gettable goals record for #41, don't be talked into taking 18 when Melksham retires. We may never see another player in the 50s post-Ben Brown, somebody has to make the 40s fashionable. It worked for Kouta, it got Dean Terlich an all-time MFC record, you could be next.

Considering what happened last year, and after the false alarm of hitting the front against Footscray before losing, this is the point where men in white coats needed to turn up and sedate me. As much as I try to downplay our shabby attempts at maintaining a rivalry with the Pies when they don't care, this result still meant more to me than your usual thriller. One, because a high percentage of opposition fans live to be outraged and I wanted to give them something to be upset about, and secondly the idea of falling on our face again, in a blockbuster standalone game, with all eyes on us DID NOT APPEAL IN THE SLIGHTEST. If the added stress of having to finish in the top half of the competition to play finals still existed it may have put me away. 

Even though there was plenty of time to fluff a 6+ lead, I still had a moment of "everything might just be ok" calm when Pickett marked well within range, only for him to do a casual wrong-foot snap that landed in the square, and was sent immediately down the other end for a set shot. It's not the first time he's tried this move unsuccessfully (see also St Kilda in Alice Springs 2025), and while I appreciate there are uncoachable elements to his game, somebody feel free to have a chat about removing this from the playbook. He'd have done better to play on, run towards the boundary, and try to kick Goal of the Century on the run.

For all the joy of this result, my god it's lucky that De Goey missed the shot at the other end. Maybe we'd still have won, and in even more memorable circumstances, but at the time it looked like a massive cock-up. Fortunately, this was the 1-in-10 that JDG would miss that shot, and we remained in front.

In a game where we played like the brake pedal was broken, I'd like to recognise an ice cold defensive 50 exit by Tholstrup around this time which could have easily ended in tragedy. There was still too much time to piss around with it and run the clock down, and if we'd lost from there, entire sections of this post would be unprintable in Queensland.

So when the better Daicos was wandering around the wing, ready to thump the ball inside 50 for the almost certain scandalous free and winning goal, the dinner I'd foolishly eaten while standing up yelling at the TV earlier in the first quarter was liable to reappear. Enter Langford with a massive tackle to take all that off the table. He was aided by Daicos dithering for a second too long, but the execution of it was a pleasing visual spectacle.

Then - thanks mainly to a strong contest from unsung hero Petty - Pickett got another chance to seal it, this time on the run, but kicked it OOF and for god's sake could we not just win this bloody game when it was there to be taken? 

Yes, as it turns out. Not without a bit more luck. With the free kick going right down the middle, Turner just got to De Goey in time to prevent a mark, and the ball ended up with tongue-out Langdon landing the crucial pass on Pickett.

If he'd taken his allotted time and missed (presumably, making the distance this time), Collingwood would've had about six seconds to go from end-to-end, and I don't think even we could facilitate that. But Pickett would not be Pickett without doing some weird, out-of-the-box stuff that makes no sense. Instead of milking the clock, he took off and kicked a snap on the run. I was up to about "what the f..." before realising it was going through and embracing the madness. 

You can imagine the chaos if it missed, and all the teammates who relaxed, expecting him to burn 30 seconds, were caught out as the Pies went straight down the middle of the ground to find somebody you've never heard of standing on his own 20 metres out, directly in front. But in a moment of Pickettish Pickettry, this one sailed through without drama, setting off an evacuation tone audible only to Collingwood fans, who began to stampede for the exits.

The danger of keeping it within a goal was shown by the ball already being back inside their 50 by the final siren. Too late. The early abandoners correctly identified that there was no reason to hang around. Other than, say, having the dignity to accept that we're going to win this fixture once every five years.

All these years after some poor bastard risked Pies fans throwing acid in his face for not giving votes to Mason Cox over Clayton Oliver (and, to be fair, the future premiership teammate of Oscar McDonald and Corey Wagner deserved them), the Daniher Award has been altered from the usual panel-voted BOG to a combination from the coaches based on values. As the last one was 'play on', it was obvious they weren't going to give it to Jake Lever for his best defensive performance in years. I didn't think Pickett was our best player, but it was no surprise to see him win. Given that he also got 10 coaches' votes, a) what do I know?, and b) maybe they just wanted to do one set of votes and move on?

'Feels like' scores were discredited by this game, but I can confirm it in no way feels like we should be fifth on the ladder. Not arguing it though. If you're tracking our cover version of 1998, a narrow win aided by the Pies missing a late set shot is right on brand

I'm not going to say "give us more of the same", because it almost killed me, but at times like this we remember Ronald Dale Barassi's famous quote "a win, is a win, is a win". 

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes

5 - Harvey Langford
4 - Jake Lever
3 - Kysaiah Pickett 
2 - Harrison Petty
1 - Max Gawn

Apologies to Chandler, Fritsch, Howes, Langdon, Steele, Tholstrup, Turner etc...     

Leaderboard
It's well and truly on at the top, with Gawn's thumping early season lead now reduced to one straight BOG. Still nothing in the Rising Star, but Lever has kept the flames flickering for an interesting Seecamp finish. 

33 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
28 - Kysaiah Pickett
19 - Jack Steele
17 - Tom Sparrow
15 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
12 - Harvey Langford
10 - Ed Langdon
9 - Jake Bowey
8 - Kade Chandler, Jacob van Rooyen
6 - Harrison Petty, Caleb Windsor
5 - Jake Lever
4 - Brody Mihocek, Koltyn Tholstrup
2 - Bayley Fritsch, Blake Howes, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley

Next week
If we'd done the sensible thing and beaten Essendon last time, you'd say manage Gawn and anyone else with the slightest twinge off a five day break. But we're playing to avoid the most shambolic double since Carlton 2006, so first choice squad only thanks. Even though Casey played in the second half as if their drinks had been spiked, I'll have Heath to give Max a rest, Melksham for a do-over on his injury-affected 250th game, and Fitzgerald to test whether the 'player lifts for games against odd club' counts when you've only been in their VFL side. 

Surely to god we can't lose to this apocalyptic James Hird-focused cult twice in one season. I'm not ruling anything out, because you-know-what is just the sort of thing we'd do, but come on, you can't follow a win like this with a slopfest. Let's just assume the Adelaide Oval was to blame last time, and that a Sensible Saturday will see us prevail.

IN: Fitzgerald, Heath, Melksham
OUT: Mihocek (inj), McDonald, L. Pickett (omit)
LUCKY: Kentfield, van Rooyen
UNLUCKY: Nil

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Not only am I shafting Pickett out of the five votes, but his clubhouse lead for the in-house GOTY is also gone. For context, execution, and exceeding expectations, Cross on the run, under pressure in the last quarter was the best thing I've seen this season. May he do many more of these, but good luck finding too many bigger stages to do it on (reverse mozz applied in attempt to get one in a final thriller).

Massive apologies to Langford, and lesser apologies to the Petty snap, one of the Fritsch ones, and either the first or last by Pickett.

Final thoughts
This is usually the time of year for launching the Bradbury Plan, but it's too complicated with this bloody wildcard round in the mix. I can't bring myself to accept any scenarios where finishing 10th is something to aspire to. 

Monday, 1 June 2026

Inside 50, outside contention

If we're doing a cover version of 1998, this might be the dud mid-season result that makes you think it's all over. In a Choose Your Own Adventure feature, you may blame it on a) selling games to the Northern Territory, b) the opposition unsportingly not letting us score freely, or c) going full Classic Goodwin and having bulk inside 50s for fuck all benefit. Surely even the nuffies who always think the umpires are at fault can't claim they were to blame for a performance that was in some ways loose as a goose, and in others, more congested than a Shanghai traffic jam.

I don't know if we'd have won this at the MCG, because I'm not sure we'd have been playing it there. This fixture has 'home game at Docklands in front of friends and family' written all over it. So, we took the usual shitload of money, put in the usual shizen performance, and nobody's any wiser about what the rest of the season holds. After being half-sucked in by the Hawthorn win, I'm willing to reset my expectations to 'average'. Yes, we came back from the dead to nearly win last week, but there's enough evidence by now to suggest any team capable of fast ball movement and competent defence will do us in. 

I'll give it a couple of weeks to see if the MCG is still the happiest place on earth. Yes, we did have a stench-fest of similar proportions against Essendon before coming back to beat multiple 2025 finalists. This performance had an air of "what do we do now?" panic that drained me of confidence. But the fact that there's confidence to lose halfway through the year is proof that things are going a lot better than expected. Fat lot of consolation that will be if we go tits up from here, so let's hope the '98 comeback tour gets going, and we can go all the way to losing a Prelim against North.

In a case of 'start as you mean to go on', we conceded the first goal after doing multiple stupid things - first giving away a free for not handing the ball back to the umpire, then Langdon was trapped on the last line of defence and kicked it anywhere to escape, which turned out to be straight to a Giants player. Then Petty celebrated his return to defence by casually wandering around in traffic before being caught holding the ball. Result - two goals in two minutes, by which point our only kick had been the shitbox one that led to the first goal.

So that wasn't going well, though Pickett (L) did well to mark a wonky, hopeful kick, which ended up being one of our best inside 50s all day, by virtue of how SHITE the rest of them were. You had forwards who wouldn't/couldn't find space, leaving us kicking to the old clump of players 20 metres out and expecting anybody to make something of that. It's what we recruited Mihocek to help with - once it became clear nobody under 30 can consistently do it, and he returned here to kick the first two. Probably while thinking about how he wasted his career with Collingwood, never getting to play at a ground with a truck parked behind the goals.

The second came via back-and-forth shenanigans, including Sharp being run down once, then almost doing it again. That didn't last long, and for most of the quarter, it looked like GWS was warming up for a training drill against cardboard cutouts representing Melbourne players. Which they were, but not without a spot of bad luck involving Latrelle being jibbed by a snap that bounced 50 centimetres from the line, then took a comedy bounce and didn't score at all. It would be inappropriate to say "it was that kind of day" because our issues went much deeper than one oval-shaped object pitching in random directions. What about all the times we had said item in hand and booted it straight down the gullet of a defender?

Your chances of understanding what was going on in this game were already reduced by having Dwayne on commentary, but were not helped by Channel 7 zooming in on everything, so neither the home viewer, or the guy calling off a TV in South Melbourne was sure of what was going on outside what was visible on screen. I'd say Seven do this deliberately to take the piss out of their competition, but Fox also has directors who think they're filming the Battle of Guadalcanal, so they're all as bad as each other. Russell also keeps going on about "the top 10" in a completely irony-free way that suggests he thinks it's the greatest footy innovation since the drop punt. He later called West Coast vs Essendon a "huge game". Come on man.

If Dwayne's random non-sequiturs and forced one-liners weren't enough for you, Nick Dal Santo's analysis of the GWS forward line was the all-time great mixed metaphor: "They're like islands, they've all got their own territory to hunt in".

This season has repeatedly shown that no matter how dreadful our attack looks in the moment, you can't write off a run of goals to make things interesting/very interesting. But not in this game, where the only remaining first quarter entertainment was provided by Pickett (K), surely breaking the record for warmest weather a long sleeve jumper has ever been worn in, kicking a ludicrous snap while running towards the boundary line. Can we just leave him forward a bit? I'm well aware of all the good he does around the ground, but he really is wasted anywhere behind the centre circle. Play him at bounces, then send him inside 50 to try and introduce a bit of terror for the defenders? 

We were about as threatening as an episode of My Little Pony here, and just miserably went to our doom with JVR and Jefferson taking to the AFL like two fill-in Casey players taking on peak Lever and May. And god only knows what Fritsch does these days, but no doubt we'll be handing him a nine-year contract extension at some point. Yes, welcome to the part of the year where baby and bathwater both dramatically go flying together. And refer to any number of posts from the past few years for discussion of how failing to keep the ball inside 50 leads to the other side belting the other way, with a cavalcade of free players standing on their own. 

If we didn't start kicking goals regularly, there was no chance of winning. Which sounds pretty bloody obvious, but the point is that there could be no 50-45 submission victory. We obviously weren't going to stop them teleporting the ball from one end to the other, leaving the backmen trying desperately to cover any number of opponents standing on their own. For the case against Alice Springs, it was a lot like last year, only without as many good scoring opportunities, and Bailey Laurie not hanging out on the bench for three quarters waiting to make his entire contribution to the season.

Other than the Pickett wondergoal, it was another flat performance without any standout players. A lot of them did good things, some strung it out for more than a quarter, but there was nothing you could point out and say "we lost, but at least..."  

In our reunion with Clayton Oliver, I'm glad he's still going with the trademark two minute noodle hair. That was one minute more than the number of effective possessions he got in the first quarter. He got into it after that, courtesy of however many millions of dollars we still owe on the contract. But, to start the second quarter, the damage was done by an ex-Demon we weren't paying for the privilege. Enter Toby Bedford who, you will not be surprised to find, was standing on his own in the square.

The margin was only seven, but felt like it should be plenty more. Gawn recognised this by taking a great defensive mark, then getting excited and sitting a kick up to be intercepted for a goal. Then they got another straight from the middle, featuring Greene outmarking Tholstrup and giving him a shove that I guess doesn't qualify as 'taunting' because it wasn't on the head. It came close enough to goal that I wish Tholstrup let him have the 50 after being grabbed by the jumper and hurled as far as possible towards goal, like an Olympic hammer thrower. 

Mihocek hit back from a tricky angle. The ungrateful bastards who were unhappy about Langford not marking at the end last week may wish to note that Mihocek's third never happened without Harvey risking death with an intercept mark. And it was all worth it for the 'steadier' that survived about 19 seconds. We were winning contested possession, but that means dick all when the scores are coming from players running around in acres of space under no pressure. The sense that it was all a bit of a shambles was furthered when a snap by Sharp was touched through by Gawn. I don't think he was trying to swipe the goal, he just looked up to see a footy coming at his head and tried to take evasive action. Could've just handballed it to him, standing there on his own, anyway. Goodbye to our full membership upgrade at The Entertainers.

If you're going to let free players run everywhere, best to do something when the ball gets inside 50. Finally, Jefferson got a free and converted, just after Russell (D) commented on the colour choice of Pickett (L)'s undies. Then, out of the middle, Chandler did tremendously well to keep a loose ball alive long enough for Langford to miss a snap. But the goal that made the margin a positively generous 12 was still there, after Oliver introduced himself to Latrelle with a high tackle. I'm not convinced by Pickett yet, and was preparing to defame his set shots when this went through. 

We'd been comprehensively outplayed, but were still in it. Not for the first time this year, so you never knew. To be honest, I knew. I can be guilty of gross cowardice at times, but for us to win this GWS would have needed its entire side to come down with the mystery shits at half time.

Didn't take long to find out where this was going, even after you-know-who called an alleged "brilliant snap by Daniels" which rolled out of bounds in the forward pocket. It did prove a good set up, leading to Cross being pinched holding the ball after a tackle on his hand. There's something you don't see often. More common, in this game anyway, was us labouring through about 12 disposals to move 50 metres, then finally getting the ball forward, only for it to come back the length of the ground in about three kicks.

Inside 50s are a piece of shit measurement, except when you have twice as many for infinitely fewer goals. They got up to about 4/6, by the time we were 0/14. Instead of well-constructed goals involving forwards, Trent Rivers had to run around an opponent and boot one from distance. A minute later, Gawn got manhandled out of a boundary throw-in for the reply. How did it even get down there so quickly? Christ only knows. 34 points may as well have been 74. 

Sparrow snapped one at the end of the quarter, but it was only there because Mihocek's shot at goal missed the lot. Cross had a shot after the siren, but in a week where a player was done for running off his line in similar circumstances, he was never going to be able to scam enough extra distance to kick it.

Technically, a 27-point margin was gettable, but I'd have eaten Ed Langdon's sweaty headband if we'd been able to outscore the Giants by 28 in the final quarter, the way we'd been defending ball movement. For anyone hanging onto the dream of a comeback, we started the last quarter with our best transition all day... and then botched the kick into attack. Said it all really. This was followed by the Giants kicking it around to free players long enough to open the door for a leading forward to run onto a pass under zero pressure. They got another from the middle, and our status was downgraded from 'probably rooted' to 'officially rooted'. 

All that was left was 15 minutes of the Giants running around red and blue traffic cones. Some hopeful people will try and claim we were beaten by the Giants' accuracy. It just saved us from seven, eight, or more point plays. Steele kicked a good goal on the run in the last, but it was shuffling deckchairs on the inland Titanic and I couldn't have been less interested in the last 10 minutes while still watching. Stuff happened, I saw it, and didn't care. Get on with next week and show us you've either a) learnt lessons, or b) we can only play on the MCG.

After the match, Steven King let himself down by bringing up expected score, which is about as relevant to this result as my unscientific 'feels like' measurement. It felt like we got pummelled here, and I'm not sure whether we should get grudging credit for keeping the margin to just 49, or GWS should be disappointed by not walloping us more violently.

2026 Allen Jakovich Medal votes
5 - Daniel Turner
4 - Jack Steele
3 - Jake Bowey
2 - Brody Mihocek
1 - Koltyn Tholstrup

Hardly anybody deserved votes, so insincere apologies to K. Pickett and Petty for being next closest. 

Leaderboard
Nothing for the top two, so the only move of note is Steele back onto the podium. In another week of nobody going close in the Rising Star, it's starting to look like an issue that I didn't have an 'Any other player' option. Cross just made it onto the list in time, but how was I supposed to know we'd end up with three mid-season draftees?  

32 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
25 - Kysaiah Pickett
19 - Jack Steele
17 - Tom Sparrow
15 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
10 - Ed Langdon
9 - Jake Bowey
8 - Kade Chandler, Jacob van Rooyen
7 - Harvey Langford
6 - Caleb Windsor
4 - Brody Mihocek, Harrison Petty, Koltyn Tholstrup
2 - Bayley Fritsch, Blake Howes, Jake Melksham, Harry Sharp
1 - Jai Culley, Jake Lever

Next week
Get your Steven King's Birthday gimmick headlines out, time for our annual attempt to prove ourselves to Collingwood when they couldn't give two shits about us. In theory, they're on the skids, but we usually find a way to cock this game up, so I'm expecting to do something silly. I don't expect my proposed hatchet job on the forward line to be adopted, but they have to do something. You can't just say "it's the MCG, everything will be ok". Time to dump a few people. I could almost go Fritsch as well.

After a couple of down weeks for the midfield, I'd like to get the express inclusion treatment for mid-season draftee Joel Fitzgerald, who found out he was drafted after training at Williamstown, transferred straight to Casey, and had 40 possessions. That's the sort of resilience you need to play for Melbourne. So much better in front of 90,000 people. And for the love of all that is holy, can they just give Kentfield a crack already? Might have NFI in senior company for all I know, but surely he's done enough to get a go in front of one of the other misfiring forwards. 

We'll lose, and a Pies player you've never heard of will join the Oxley, Dick x2, Cox x2 (these are real people, I'm not doing a bit) Monarch's Birthday Kingsley Club. 

IN: Fitzgerald, Jiath, Kentfield, Lever, Melksham
OUT: Cross, Laurie, L. Pickett, Jefferson, van Rooyen (omit)
LUCKY: Fritsch, Moniz-Wakefield
UNLUCKY: McDonald

(UPDATE - Let the original text stand, but poor AMW is anything but lucky as he's done his knee again. Absolutely shithouse news). 

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Apologies to Miami Vice-style crime-fighting duo Sparrow and Steele, but obviously it was the ludicrous Pickett one from the boundary line. I hated this game so much that I refuse to dignify it by appointing a new clubhouse leader, but the good news is that he already leads for the goal against future chaos to premiers via wildcard round success story Carlton.

Vale Neale
This site has been going so long, it started with Neale Daniher's third last season as coach. Nothing I'm going to say will adequately pay tribute to him, but if you're going to have the misfortune of coming down with an incurable illness, the best you can do is fight it to the bitter end and do good for other people along the way. From a footballing perspective, I thank him for the 1998 and 2000 campaigns, two of my all-time favourite seasons. Remember '98 with our Hotter Than Hell retrospective, and remember Neale with your generous donations to fight MND. 

Final thoughts
This was like waking up and having a cup of piss thrown in your face, but if we do the right thing next week, I'll forget it happened.