Twilight lowlight

I couldn't appreciate more how this season has gone, and I'm up for the challenge of doing something unbelievably bizarre from here, but it feels like daylight robbery to go 15-8 and still wind up playing in the consolation round. Our fault for losing to Footscray, but still - the idea of potentially playing victim in the great Carlton redemption story (which we really started with that storming comeback in Round 3) sickens me so much that it will ruin the joy of returning to 'finals' until such time that we do as expected of a 7th placed team and win. Nobody ever considered the wacky scenario of a 10th place team turning up as the form side of the competition - and no, that still doesn't justify playing these bullshit games. 

Nobody really wants the old system alternative of playing Adelaide away, but that's what should be happening. It's not though, and thanks to GWS refusing to pop the Bradbury Plan escape hatch and beat the Crows, we've missed the top six, and most likely any chance of launching a surprise assault on the flag. You might say we've only got ourselves to blame, but I reserve the right to hold it against all the sides who could've done us a favour in the last two weeks, and the league for introducing this cash/attention grab in the first place.

Despite the agonies I'll go through in the next few days, it's a good thing this season has been a relatively roaring success on-field, because 2026 has been an administrative shambles. Five years ago it looked like we'd graduated from non-stop turmoil, before collecting post-flag fiascos by the dozen, with so many involving lawyers that we should get life membership of the Victorian legal system. First, there was the losing van Rooyen appeal, which involved our representative using the phrase 'knocking out' while defending a player who knocked someone out. Until the next person to punch an opponent in the head gets 12 weeks, three is excessive for a failed, malice-free spoil, but that's no help to us now, we have no option but to move on without him.

At the same time, we were bidding a less-than-fond farewell to major 'sponsor' Driver's Depot - or, to use their correct legal name, Dickhead Depot. Turns out they managed to scab a whole year of publicity by paying their deposit, then nothing more. It's a $1.5m version of the time I heard the membership team ringing up deadbeat members who'd cancelled credit cards to avoid paying their monthly instalments. There's a long queue to kick the people who signed this deal, but don't forget we'd already had to sack one major sponsor due to scandal, so I've got some sympathy with putting our trust in a fly-by-night operation nobody had ever heard of.

Some pundits saw this coming seven months ago, but it seems unlikely that the club got all the way to the end of the home and away season before realising the cheque was not in the mail. As the club that once found an unpaid tax bill in the drawer, you can't rule out some massive own goal caused by our rotating cast of Chief Executive Officers, but more likely this fly-by-night operation with an AI website hasn't been answering the phone for months, and what would've been swept under the carpet if the season was ending after R24 had to be acknowledged so they could be given the Tijuana before finals. Brisbane and Collingwood have been dudded in similar circumstances over the years, but at least they got out before mid-August.

Then, it took me so long to write this that the ex-CEO lawsuit had time to drop as well, featuring claims of corporate assassination linked to his exposure of widespread wage theft. If anyone else wants to join this round of Let's All Sue The MFC, you have until close of business Friday to get in on the action.

Compared to all this, the lottery of whether we'd get a double chance (which didn't survive Friday night), play real finals, or be forced into the repecharge round barely rated a mention. I know the focus this week has been largely off-field, but nobody seems to give a rat's that multiple teams went into the last round with three potential finals outcomes. Well, let me tell you I was thinking about it non-stop - especially after Footscray lost free hit status by failing to topple Carlton. After winning about eight games more to this point of the year than expected, I shouldn't need the opposition to rest half their side to calm my nerves - but I did, and was right to.

Some people seriously believe the AFL rigs the results of individual games, as if they could manage such a thing without royally stuffing it up. What they'd say is that it was "too obvious" to do it here, when a Dees win was the final piece in the puzzle to set up a Carlton vs Collingwood final that would've a) all but validated the Wildcard round with massive crowd and TV viewing, and b) provided a great talking point to steer interest in Victoria away from the scandal currently laying waste to their 'brand'. 

All they had to do for the dream fixture was [whatever rorts are supposedly done to fix results]. But no, it was played out in a free and fair environment, with au natural shit umpiring, and any chance to occupy media space all week with tedious references to Wayne Harmes went up in smoke. Meanwhile we put on 2024/2025 Appreciation Night, failing to capitalise on a million scoring opportunities in a game with so many contests that Gawn had his most hitouts in a game since 2018. And that doesn't account for the times he just plucked it out of the air and took off, against badly outmatched opposition who ultimately had the last laugh.

After some of the stuff we got away with under previous management you'd be rude to complain about the Dogs sensibly aiming to turn the game into trench warfare. We scored 111 points off turnover last week, they'd have been stupid to let this get into the open and risk more of the same. Eventually kicking a respectable score is somewhat to our credit. Shame about all the goals going the other way. No complaints about the "we'll score one more than you" philosophy, considering we've escaped from worse spots against better teams this year, but it does crank the degree of difficulty when you know the opposition will get plenty of chances to return serve. Which is no drama if you keep scoring, but the bus from Speed had run into traffic and was about to blow up.

Facing the prospect of embarrassment against 10th placed opposition in top four form, I was ready to drink poison when Turner was helped off with what seemed to be a knee injury. Not only was this bad for our 2026 campaign, and next year - but on a personal, selfish level, I thought it torpedoed any chance of the Tom McDonald farewell forward line tour. Our commitment to Forward Sizzle was so strong that McDonald wasn't sent straight on to replace him. In the reverse of all the times a player has gone off looking not too crocked then disappeared for a year, Turner was back within minutes. That's where the Round 24 miracles stopped. 

This was the reverse Freo, where the wild pings at goal didn't goal through as often (although a fair proportion of our goals were belters), and role players who looked like the Harlem Globetrotters in recent weeks collectively failed to fire. Doesn't mean they won't all roar back next week, for whatever it's worth, while we take all the risk of needing to beat 10th just to get to where we'd have been anyway. I have to tell you, I'm not feeling the excitement.

For fans of novelties in football, the highlight of the first quarter was the Footscray player who hoofed through a shot from distance, then pretended his shoe was a phone. Otherwise, Langdon kicked a nice goal after picking off an errant handball, but there was bugger all else to get excited about. I've been more disappointed in last round games with finals implications, but that was back when you didn't get a start despite being in the lower half of the ladder.

The quarter time margin was gettable, but as much as our play in the first quarter resembled the days of winning 60-55, the opposition were taking advantage of a side that's conceded more points this year than North, who lost one a game by about 130 points. 

Even as it turned into a world class stoppagefest, we were better in the second quarter, but couldn't take advantage. At the same time, there were plenty of opportunities to concede down the other end. There was, in a rare outbreak of joy on an otherwise dismal afternoon, McDonald marking and goalling to pay off all my whinging about why we didn't play him forward again three years ago when our 2024 finals campaign died for a lack of decent goalscorers. There was also something for those of us who enjoy the role of agitators in the AFL, where for the second time this year we were dicked by Artie Jones, who let everybody - especially Jiath - know about it. Shame we had to be on the end of it twice in one season, but this kind of thing is 100% good for football, so more power to him.

Just when it looked like things were going completely tits up in the third quarter, we were saved by a late goal review and managed to keep things interesting. After a filthy day that provided me all the excuse I needed to keep McDonald forward, Jefferson had a purple patch of big tackles and setting up his teammates - which was rewarded by having to limp off injured, never to be seen again. Then later we found out Lever had broken something foot related, which probably means the end of the Forward Sizzle dream anyway.

Hitting the post twice in the dying minutes of the third quarter said all you needed to know about our day, but Windsor made up for it by kicking one from Platform 1 at Jolimont Station, while running at full speed while an opponent close behind. It was a spectacular finish which may take some of the heat of him for doing sod all otherwise. At the opposite end of the contribution scale was Harrison Petty, who spent the quarter pulling down massive contested marks in all parts of the ground, and for that we are most grateful.

Salem had a chance to make the margin on the three quarter time siren, but missed and left us having to climb out of a hole. I felt genuinely sick with nerves in the break due to wanting so desperately to go into the finals on a high. And to get the week off - as much for me as any of the players. Then we conceded a goal 20 seconds into the last quarter, and some little bastards decided to ruin my one visit for the year to Olympic Stand row MM by playing drums on the seats next door with salvaged plastic bottles. This wouldn't have happened in the Redlegs seats, but I may have throttled somebody for endlessly going on about umpires - as if that's what sank us. If I hadn't already been kicked out for gouging somebody who tried to pretend Fritsch playing on 3cm from the man in the mark and being caught HTB wasn't entirely his own fault.

The final term was an exercise in futile hope, but it did give us the once in a lifetime Total Football extravaganza of McDonald, Petty, and Turner all playing in the same forward line. I was well into it for novelty value, and could see the logic considering Naughton had departed injured, but at the same time is our rebound not helped by Turner pulling down marks all over the place? I don't think it would've made a difference where he played, but maybe putting him there from the first bounce was prematurely 'death or glory'. He had a shot early, but was the only one of the Big Three not to kick a goal during the quarter.

By the last quarter, Gawn was doing an AFL version of his 80 VFL hitouts against Bendigo, and when he put one down the throat of Pickett to pelt towards goal from the next centre bounce, it looked like they might be about to team up and carry us to a famous victory. Except Pickett's shot - surprise - hit the post. We did keep going, even after sad scenarios like a spare parts ruckman who'd been pummelled all afternoon being gifted a goal from a free in the square. But, when the margin got into single digits with a few minutes left I thought words to the effect of "by christ, we're going to snatch this". And was wrong, because while there were two goals left in the contest they both went the other way. It happens, but never before with the penalty applied of being shunted into the undercard 'finals'. 

To round off a shit afternoon/evening, we were turfed off the train halfway home because some flange beached their car on the tracks. Which is a coping strategy I might adopt if it goes tits up next week. Then some nutter spent 20 minutes screaming conspiracy theories at us from an elevated position without even being polite enough to around the grounds scores from Adelaide. The first thing I heard after getting back to my car at last was that the Crows were pissing it in, confirming it's the Wildcard life for us. I hate it so much, but that's reality. Let's hope to look back on this as the loss we had to have en route to the unexpected rebound run of a lifetime.

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

Apologies to Bowey, Fritsch, Jiath, Lever, Sparrow, and Turner.

Leaderboard
Maximum is obviously going to romp this in now, the only question is whether he does it with games in hand or has to accept the virtual trophy in the wasteland of a pre-finals 'finals' defeat. No action in the minors, though it would be tremendous if someone who has never featured in the conversation before comes along at just the right time to launch a challenge for the Rising Star. 

64 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
--- Needs five finals. I'd like to see him try---
41 - Kysaiah Pickett
--- Kaput ---
29 - Tom Sparrow, Jack Steele
22 - Daniel Turner (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
19 - Jacob van Rooyen
18 - Jake Bowey
16 - Jake Lever, Harrison Petty
14 - Kade Chandler
13 - Bayley Fritsch, Ed Langdon, Koltyn Tholstrup
12 - Harvey Langford
6 - Caleb Windsor
5 - Harry Sharp
4 - Brody Mihocek
2 - Blake Howes, Matthew Jefferson, Jake Melksham
1 - Jai Culley, Joel Fitzgerald (LEADER: Nathan Jones Rising Star Award), Bailey Laurie

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year
Despite doing nada otherwise, Windsor's goal from the boundary line was a belter. But not as beltish as Sharp vs Freo, which retains the lead.

Next week
I've got so little respect for the Wildcard Wankfest that I'm not dignifying it by altering my life schedule to attend. Apologies to Steven King and everyone else who helped make this season a whole lot more enjoyable than expected, but it's not a real final and I decline to participate. 

In the absence of Jefferson, I demand another round of Forward Sizzle. It wasn't a barnstorming success, but he did enough. To complicate the process even further, let's introduce the dark art experience of Melksham to the forward line. He comes in at the expense of Salem, who they have NFI what to do with. I think that's enough surprise veteran action for this occasion, even if I'm half-interested in a death or glory Viney selection. But that's just The Fear talking, making me want to wrap myself in the comfortable old ways of crash and bash, instead of trusting the process that got us 15 wins.

Still, he'd be a good news story, and even if they're completely different players he couldn't possibly provide less than Lindsay did in his game. I've talked myself into it now. And, not playing a second ruckman in a final against Carlton? I don't care if the circumstances bear no similarity to three years ago, or that Heath has been out of the senior side since the North game, get him in. I trust selection will be conducted in an atmosphere free of the sort of white-hot panic I bring to the conversation.

On paper we should win, but without Lever and JVR at opposite ends, and against a form team I reckon a great season might end in sad circumstances. I'll be overjoyed to be proven wrong, and will get interested again if we get through to the real finals, but I'm so flat about landing in the fake round that my enthusiasm and belief for this season has gone straight down the toilet. 

IN: Heath, Melksham, Taylor, Viney
OUT: Jefferson (inj), Lever (inj), Lindsay, Salem (omit)
LUCKY: Windsor
UNLUCKY: Teams that finish 7th. 

The All-New Bradbury Plan
Far cough

Final thoughts
If I cark it during the week, avenge my death.