RT: @deanbailey footy is shit

(Keen observers may note I edited the title from what I originally posted on Twitter. There's no need for such filth, or a lawsuit from the AFL Umpires Association). 

Once again it's a good thing that I'm writing this four hours after the final siren (and in fact as it later turns out also the next day) because had I managed to dictate my thoughts immediately as I trudged through the pouring rain outside the ground, having stormed out after another shameful outburst, this whole enterprise would have been shut down by every internet filter on earth and landed me with an ASIO file. 

I was absolutely ropeable, having not had time to digest just how lucky we'd been to have even gotten that close given our performance and how two of the run of worst umpiring decisions ever (non-goal umpire category) didn't cost us at all because the Hawks stuffed up the frees. No time yet for it to sink in that we didn't deserve to be in finals calculations in the first place and were punching well above our weight by being included as anything more than a novelty option in September calculations. No, I was wandering the banks of the Yarra with a mix of rage and aimlessness that even Mark Latham would rise to applaud. 

Trudging home, soaked about two minutes after leaving the ground, I resolved to tip the first Hawthorn fan that passed and said something 'hilarious' into the drink. Never happened, mainly because I'd stormed out with two minutes on the clock but also because I was wearing the facial expression of a serial killer. At one point some guy asked "Did you win?" and I very politely scowled "no" and kept walking before he could ask anything more (do people not have internet enabled mobiles? It's not 1985 anymore you know). 

Rewind a couple of hours to when we were young, dumb and full of hope. Hawthorn started as favourites but no end of people were willing to put their hand up, or in their pocket, to back us to do the job. They'd been shit for a fortnight, and while we'd hardly set the world on fire in the same timeframe we'd at least managed to put two wins on the board. 

Also contrary to popular belief we hadn't been that bad against them during the Bailey era. Sure the Hawks treated us like a prostitute in Round 1, and the less said about the disastrous first game of DB's coaching career the better but the two matches in the middle were decent contests that we might have snatched with a bit more experience and poise. Either way, when you lose the first of four contests by 104 points it's a long way back to a respectable average losing margin. And who will ever forget The Stefan Martin Experience kicking his first career goal with a snap plucked straight from the far reaches of his arse in our match against them last year? Everyone except the two of us I'll bet. 

 The first thrust forward from the Hawks, saw the ball bounce over everybody and drop onto the post but after that the next five minutes belonged to us. Jurrah got the first goal and super-mo Dunn the second to make me at least start to perk up and wonder if we might not be on the way to the sort of runaway win that makes the entire football world sit up and think "bloody hell, what's going on here?" a'la the Sydney match. 

Then the ball went forward for the Hawks again and Franklin got one of his few legitimate scores of the day with the most unorthodox and shit but ultimately successful snaps of all time. Fair enough, no harm done - especially when Green marked and goalled at the other end, then Super Mo managed to cheat the umpire out of a free 50m directly in front before the next bounce. If he'd kicked that we could have been away but finally given a shot from directly in front he muffed it. 

Bizarrely our three goal kickers then proceeded to completely disappear from the match. Elsewhere it started pissing down and the umpires must have caught a glimpse of how badly they'd been taken for a ride by Dunn's dive because from then on we received pure shaft from them without even the courtesy of a reacharound. Either way, despite the Hawks dominating around the ground and going inside 50 with ease - compare and contrast to our play which often resembled World War I battlefield style inch-by-inch movement - we got four goals (so often a three-quarter time score) and went in equal. 

There was something drastically unbalanced about it, like a boxer hanging on the ropes and desperately counterpunching while his brains are being turned into a milkshake. Still, after the three years we've had I'm willing to accept any first quarter where we're still in the game and have kicked more than one goal as a victory no matter how many portents to evil there are floating around. For now the only black clouds over us were the ones causing it to piss down in epic fashion, at which point Hawthorn instantly looked better. We needed the sun to come out again, and in true Melbourne fashion it not only did but with such a vengeance that you almost needed sunnies. I tried to make another omen of our forward 50 being completely in the shadows and theirs being half-half between shadow and sun but was clearly reaching for some way to convince myself we could win. 

There was no point going into depth about the weather because it changed every five seconds anyway, and in between all this fluctuating weather and outright abuse of the Bureau of Meteorology Aaron Davey broke his leg. It was the first time a broken bone had effectively destroyed our season since Brock McLean necked himself in R1, 2007 - let's hope that Flash doesn't come back a shadow of himself and end up playing for Carlton like the other guy. Without Davey we just lacked polish, somebody who you know is going to hit the target 90% of the time. We hung with them in spite of ourselves but even as we were all but level at half-time it still felt like Hawthorn would turn it up a notch and run over the top of us. 

Other than the first few minutes I never felt we were in control enough to put together a match winning lead, despite Hawthorn doing everything they could to keep us in it. It was a shit quality game between two sides playing for the right to bomb out of September in depressing fashion, but there were still highlights. Long time readers will have noted with some excitement the return of Wonaeamirri's character THE CELEBRATOR when he kicked his goal and followed it up with some sort of wild running windmill punch a'la Mike Tyson's Punch Out on the Nintendo. At the other end of the ground Frawley was smashing Franklin like a guitar and ensuring that if he doesn't at least get mentioned in final considerations for the All-Australian side the selection panel will receive the same sort of reception reserved for serial killers and umpires. 

The cheap goals from frees started halfway through the quarter, and other than the Jurrahcane kicking what might very well be our goal of the year we were starting to get cut up around the ground and attempting to switch play needlessly and with no second option. Back to that goal, with apologies to Jamie Bennell who loses out due to the sort of goal he kicked against the Dogs being dime a dozen these days, the reason it was so good was the way Jurrah seemed to slow down and stop for a split second to size up just where he was going to place the thing. 

Most players would have just hacked it off the ground and it would have either slid left for a point or been intercepted by Gibson flying back on the line to defend it - but this time, making light of the fact that he'd busted his finger by not even bringing his hands into the calculation, LJ picked his spot and slotted it perfectly. Gibson (a man who, lest we forget, gets laid more per capita than any other player in the competition) gave a perfectly good despairing dive, but like a soccer football free kick smashed perfectly into the corner he had no chance to get to it. I'd like to watch that again in isolation without having to see most of the rest of the match. 

That goal and one from Bruce got us back in it, but it still felt wrong. Every time it rained they started slicing and dicing us and there was no guarantee that it was going to remain dry for the rest of the day considering how it had changed from sunny to pissing down about 32 times already. Note how many times their players held overhead marks in the conditions. They dropped their fair share of absolute sitters too (see also Trengove, Jack in the goalsquare in the first quarter - thank god it sat for him to kick the goal anyway) but at least they were holding onto it when it mattered and not fumbling it around. 

The only upside to the whole first half - other than the fact that we were still in the game despite being murdered in the clearances, contested possessions and inside 50's - was that I was sitting undercover and not having to run back and forth out of the rain like the people on the first row. Surely the first time you get rained on it's time to recognise that Melbourne's weather does not follow any particular logic and to move somewhere undercover? People did that, and then the moment the sun came out again they were off downstairs to get rained on for a second, third and fourth time. It's a footy game, not Man vs Wild - you do not have to sit in pouring rain wearing a garbage bag for protection. Nobody's going to think any less of you if you sit under a roof. 

After all some teams (*cough* St Kilda *cough*) have made a living out of never playing in the wet, then getting exposed when it rains during a game that really matters. I hope lessons are well and truly learnt from both this and the Bulldogs match on how to play wet weather footy because global warming might be on the way to fuck up the seasons and make it summer all year around but it won't be here to stuff up my dream of seeing a flag for at least a hundred years yet so there's plenty of time for playing games in the rain. 

It was amusing to hear the wild chorus of boos for Kennett when they showed him on the screen looking emo. Bit rich for our fans to be giving it to a President for abusing his coach and team for being shit when that's pretty much all we've done for the last two years. Much like when James Hird got fined for hanging shit on that umpire and was booed by opposition fans the next week it made no sense. Especially bizarre considering that it was probably our fans who kept him office through two elections while his treasurer was on our board. The MCC Members pavilion could rename itself the Karl Marx Pavilion and fly the hammer and sickle and you still wouldn't fool me that they're not going to line up en masse and vote for the Libs every time. I think it's more a case of recognising what a colossal, cracking meltdown he'd have suffered if they'd lost again and punting it home for comic value. If we'd won his secretary would probably have leapt from an upstairs window rather than have to type out his spray on Monday morning. 

Speaking of freaking out how about the Frawley deliberate? It's a good thing that Franklin felt guilty about it and decided to miss the lot because that was truly criminal. Compare and contrast to the first quarter when some brown and gold idiot slid along the ground and palmed the ball straight at the line on the members side wing. Didn't get paid, but soccer one out at the other end with some hulking great bloke two steps behind you and you get pinged. Just another goofy interpretation that didn't go our way - karmic payback at last for the 50m penalty fiesta we were on the receiving end of in the game against Essendon which started this improbable run towards the eight. Swings and roundabouts. 

After being beaten up in the centre during the second and still somehow managing to kick four goals we repeated the dose in the third, and yet somewhere still managed to be within touch at the last quarter. When we got two in a row through Watts (did nothing, would probably get dropped if he was anybody else. Will still be a gun, roll on 2011) and Jamar it seemed like we were back in with a sniff of a miracle. Shame Johnson got murdered in the centre because if we had a decent second ruckman The Russian would be a killer target in the forward line. 

For a guy who had racked up 0 kicks before his first shot at goal he's a bloody good set shot and a towering mark. Pity we can't afford to leave him down there too long lest we get ripped to shreds in the centre with Johnson/Spencer/[tall player with no ruck skills thrown in due to desperation] taking the bounces. Didn't really matter yesterday considering that even when he did get the taps we were getting belted out of there but in the interests of long term planning somebody had better fire up and give him a hand. 

Now, no matter what else you take out of the third quarter - and god knows I've got a lot to say about Garland and his shitful kicking out of defence - where did the Franklin free against Frawley rate in the most frustrating moments of your life? Might not have been the worst decision ever, nothing can beat that goal umpire farce in the Geelong/Pies match, but it would have to be up there in all-time MFC related officiating debacles. 

The rudest thing about it was that it was at such a crucial time of the game. If it had happened when we were 50 points down in the last quarter you'd have raised an eyebrow and asked what the hell was going on but it wouldn't have mattered. As it was we were still in the mix and Chip had beaten Franklin in one-on-one duels all day (he still got plenty of ball up the ground, but what are you going to do to stop that other than smash him in the face with a sledgehammer?) but that was a pure and simple dagger in the back from the idiot in the middle. He got a real one just after but the damage was done. 

We were still close enough to make it interesting but the tide was rapidly turning in their favour, and when it started pouring again you might as well have put your house on the Hawks at $1.20. Still, once again we managed to turn potential disaster into near glory. First Joel Mac got pinged for our second deliberately rushed behind of the season but luckily they once again felt guilty and completely missed it. It was an interesting call, like the one where Essendon got pinged earlier in the season I thought that to the letter of the law it was probably the right call - after all he did take a couple of steps back and wait for the opposition player to get right on top of him before he went back over the line but after the league came out and declared the first call wrong how can they possibly pay anything else similar? 

Jamar jumping up and pounding the ball through against St Kilda is one thing but this was a near carbon copy of the Essendon/Hawthorn (there's your common denominator) call and he got done for it. Rancid umpiring at a crucial time. They got the goal that fairly well sealed it before Thank God It's Brad Green turned up for the first time since the first quarter to kick one on the run to bring it back to under two goals. 

Bartram could have got it within a goal and made it properly interesting but running inside 50 he clearly wanted to dish it off but decided to take the shot himself and missed, not that I could see shit from where I was standing. The old bird in front of me who had turned around specifically to deliver her thesis on how much she hated him during the third quarter must have had an aneurysm at that point. Hardly the guy I'd want kicking for goal on the run if my life was on the line though, so I'm not going to slaughter him for it. Still, would have helped considering they went down the other end and got the sealer pretty much straight afterwards. 

All that stopped the Hawks from a mark in the square that would have killed the match was a desperate last minute spoil from Bail, but then from the throw-in absolutely nobody went near Burgoyne and he kicked the goal that finally and officially ended our season. But wait, there was more. My blood pressure had already been pushed up to dangerous levels when the Watts kick from the square at the other end that would have opened it up again with enough time for a miracle looked like it had gone through and I almost leapt on top of a stranger only to find out it hit the point. 

Shameful outburst alert, that's when I lost it. Kicked the fence, knocked a cleaning sign across the bottom deck of the Ponsford and stormed out. Just then the rain decided to return to Hurricane Bertha levels and drench me but I didn't care. When Hodge kicked the last goal I let out a primal scream which scared some kid walking next to me. 

In retrospect the whole thing feels stupid, we should never have been there and between the second half in Brisbane, the first against Richmond and most of today it should be blatantly obvious to all that we don't belong in the finals yet - but how often does the 8th placed team deserve to be there? But on a grander scale to that round 2 Collingwood debacle I'd had something improbable and beautiful dangled in front of me then snatched away in cruel fashion. I'm an only child, how the hell do you want me to cope with that? It's no wonder I didn't just throw myself to the floor and start crying. Never go to ground anywhere that football fans having been standing for two hours, nothing good can come of it. 

Thankfully the AFL in their infinite wisdom are set to increase the amount of sides in the finals so that we can have even more overmatched slop sides creep in and get smashed, so hopefully in a couple of years when we're playing some bizarre eight conference, 15 team finals series on the surface of Mars we might just sneak in. 

Conspiracy Corner 

We'll all have a red hot whinge about the umpires this week, and everyone will add their own comments about perceived payoffs, sexual favours or teabagging incidents but doesn't it strike you as concerning that some people legitimately believe that there are deliberate conspiracies against their team? Like the AFL and umpires, two of the most incompetent groups in the world today, could actually get it together to deliver a double-secret directive that, as some peanut near me started yelling, Melbourne shall be shafted in order to make way for the Hawks to play finals. 

Don't you think that if it was a case of rorting the game to get one side into the finals specifically then we'd be a much better story for them to rally behind? Side comes from nowhere with a sick president to pull off a D2: The Mighty Ducks style feelgood story as the young, exciting side crashes into September calculations. Choose either that or a side with a ranting psychopath of a President, 45k three game members and the ongoing worst premiership defence since us 1965 and beyond. In the interests of ratings and general buzz I know which one I'd rather watch as a neutral. Wouldn't surprise me if they somehow managed to stuff up their "get the Demons into the 8" conspiracy due to the complete ineptitude of all involved, up to and including our own side. 

Crowd Watch 

As viewers of Demonblog Twitter (now Justin Bieber free) would have seen, in graphic fashion, the residue of last week's big vom on the wall of Ponsford Stand Q33 was still there which is a fair testament to the care and dedication that the cleaning contractors take to looking after this iconic venue. Will probably still be there next season when I, like an idiot, choose to sit near it again. 

No kids going the big chunder this week, but one behind us nearly got put into a headlock. Not only did the little prick think that Carl Petersen was Cyril Rioli for the first half (because society has obviously progressed so far that kids still think all people from the same race look the same) but he spent the whole first quarter delivering piercing screams at the top of his voice whenever the Hawks got the ball and smashed me in the back of the head with a bloody flag. I'm a fairly tolerant person (!?) but at point when wooden stick met skull I had to turn around and ask him to take more care, only to receive death glares from his dad. How can you be so insular and stupid to not even notice when your children are annoying the shit out of everyone? (but more importantly me) 

These are the same sort of people who fawn over their ugly babies as being the most beautiful thing on earth and go on TV to tell the world that their son was "a nice boy who wouldn't hurt anyone" after he's run through Chadstone shopping centre with an AK-47. 

On the other end of the age spectrum were the two grannies in front of us, one of whom was the aforementioned president of the "Fuck off Clint Bartram" fan club. The other one was far more placid and barely said a word, possibly because she was scared shitless of her insane friend. Maybe it was the culture of fear that caused her friend to sit there terrified and silent, making the president of the FOCB club turn around and start discussing the game with me instead. I hate it when that happens. If I'd wanted to have random chats with post-middle age women there are (probably) internet sites which cater for that, don't think that because we're sitting in the same vicinity and wearing the same colours that we're going to be mates. 

 For the last quarter, abandoned by all and sundry who decided on an early afternoon, I went downstairs and made the horrific mistake of going into one of the standing areas at the back of the bottom deck of the Ponsford. Everybody knows that the sort of people who hang around in those areas are usually insane, socially retarded, on parole or worthy of being attached to a washing machine and thrown into Port Phillip Bay but it looked empty and the quarter was about to start so I went in there and stood up the back.

Not thirty seconds later seven or eight pure arseholes showed up en masse and stood right in front of, or to the very left of me. All Hawthorn, all clearly amused to have one of them in their midst. Cue barely concealed abuse which I could half hear due to having headphones in. Then for some reason the section of munters I was in started to get into a "chant off" with some MFC fans just to the left of us (where chant ='s shouting *team name* *CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* like an 8-year-old) and the guy next to me basically started yelling it in my face from the side trying to provoke some reaction. Wasn't going to get anything, but I knew that no matter what happened at the end it was going to be ugly. 

Either we were going to get done and I'd have to do a walk of shame through them, or we were going to get up and I'd get filled in for celebrating too boisterously. When Green kicked his goal I was out of there. Discretion is the better part of valour when you're prone to verbal gaffes and/or inappropriate outright abuse like I am. There are plenty things worth being punched in the head or having to leap over a fence for and footy is certainly not one of them. Maybe a Grand Final or a prelim? Went over to where the section of our fans from the chant-off were and the rest was history. 

Apologies to the guy who was standing behind me when I booted the fence and turned around to walk-off. That was a completely inadvertent shirtfront which I delivered on you, and had you not been the only person other than me in standing room who wasn't drinking beer like a total pisshead it might have been ugly for all concerned. 

(Update from the future - somehow I forgot to mention that the pre-match entertainment featured recovering drug addicts in a goalkicking competition. For added flavour the MC quizzed them about what they'd been hooked on before they took a non-opiate related shot)

2010 Allen Jakovich Medal Votes
5 - Cameron Bruce
4 - James Frawley
3 - Colin Sylvia
2 - Jordie McKenzie
1 - Rohan Bail Apologies to Scully, McDonald, Macdonald, Jamar and Rivers. 

Leaderboard
38 - Brad Green
37 - James Frawley (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
27 - Mark Jamar (WINNER: Strawbs O'Dwyer Medal for Ruckman of the Year), Colin Sylvia
23 - James McDonald
15 - Aaron Davey
14 - Matthew Bate
12 - Jack Grimes
11 - Jack Trengove (Leader: Jeff Hilton Medal for Rookie of the Year)
10 - Tom Scully, Cameron Bruce, Brent Moloney, Lynden Dunn, Jordie McKenzie
8 - Jordan Gysberts
7 - Joel Macdonald
5 - Ricky Petterd, Jamie Bennell
3 - Matthew Warnock, Brad Miller, Colin Garland
2 - Neville Jetta, Clint Bartram, Jack Watts
1 - Jared Rivers, Nathan Jones, Austin Wonaeamirri, Liam Jurrah, Rohan Bail 

Next Week
Another blockbusting Port crowd of 102 turn up watch us stuff it up in Adelaide for the ninth consecutive year. During the week the AFL trumpeted that their stupid rule innovations, put to an allegedly 'public' vote had achieved support from a 'quarter of respondents' or as the rest of us know it '3/4 of people hated it. 

If you want to adopt a similar head-in-sand look at Season 2010 there is still a possibility that we can make the 8. What's the point though? The season has been a success by anybody's measure, there's really no point pumping ridiculous scenarios into ladder predictors to try and force our way in (I just spent the last ten minutes doing just that though I must admit..) 

If something outrageous happens in the next two weeks - and just wait for Hawthorn to beat the Collingwood reserves in R22 when top spot is sewn up - then rip out the champers bottles and let's get trashed/line up for finals tickets but otherwise just ride out the next couple of weeks and hope we can at least put some platform down for next year by winning a bloody game at Football Park. Serves us (me?) right for getting my hopes up anyway. Let this be a lesson to you kids, never be positive about anything. 

Was it worth it?

Get to shite. Last few weeks were fun though. In a sick way doesn't it feel good that a loss really hurts again?

The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

Today was always going to be a big fat, giant rolling boulder from Indiana Jones style, danger game on our road to The Impossible Dream. We were lucky to hold on to beat the rancid Lions last week, and the Tigers were coming off their 6th win of the year just a few weeks after it looked like they were going to win none and be relegated to Auskick. Not only were they enjoying what constitutes a winning streak for them (though who are we to talk?) but our record against teams we should beat has been wonky this year. Anyone remember the West Coast debacle? I’m trying not to. It’s almost scandalous to think that game could end up being the difference between us making the finals or not, because when the siren went that day it seemed to me that we were about to be pitched into a neck-and-neck backwards race for the spoon with the Eagles and Richmond, and with no motivation to put the tank in fifth gear and go for it this time. Since then Brisbane have imploded in spectacular fashion to put themselves into the trashcan of history and the other two have both had players who kicked ten or more goals in a match yet still manage to remain the bottom two sides. We, on the other hand, have had no player kick more than five and are knocking down the door of a miracle appearance in September. The world is an amazing place.

Suddenly a match that looked pre-season, and let’s be frank even mid-season, like it would be an end of year training drill played with all the intensity of the Lingerie Football League (no really, it’s even on Foxtel and is just as bad as you’d expect) was suddenly being described by some slightly unhinged commentators as the preview for a future blockbuster between two of the next big things of AFL football. Lovely sentiment, but are there two teams that you can almost certainly rely on more to snatch shambles from the jaws of a glory era than us and Richmond? No offence to the Tiges and their Zigfield Follies inspired theme song but I’m happy to leave them behind as long as we get the glory that’s been promised. Still a long way off that sports fans.

Now, I don’t want to suggest that Richmond fans are starved for success but the reaction from them when ‘their’ kids beat ‘our’ kids in the pre-match tug of war was like the Second World War had just been won again. I hate myself for even taking an interest (well, it was for charity) but it should be pointed out that ‘our’ kiddies had the worst set up in tug ‘o war history (and lest we forget it did used to be an Olympic sport) so it was no wonder they got beaten. There was about five metres of empty rope at the back that nobody was on. Ever heard of an anchor man? It was either shambolic or an inside nod to the 2009 tanking debacle. Inappropriate comment of the day went to the guy next to me who said “and that’s why you’re orphans” when they lost. He was later beaten with the karma stick when a bunch of kids showed up and he had to move seats.

Further pre-match ‘entertainment’ was provided by the MCG with their baffling choice of music. There were the usual staples, that Dropkick Murphy’s shit from the AFL ad and the Coldplay song that they’ve been flogging the life out of for the past two years, but interspersed throughout were a bunch of good time classic hits straight from the Magic 1278 playlist. Who thought footy fans were ready and waiting for a revival of the original Needles ‘n Pins? Thought we were half a chance of hearing Crimson And Clover, which let’s be frank is a cracker, but just as Tommy James and the Shondells fans started to fire up they busted out Coldplay again. Rumour is that Chris Martin has bought Uganda from the royalties he’s received from the MCG for playing that 97 times at every match. If the MCG are reading I’ll put my hand up to make some CD’s for them if they want, and the tracks will bring the freaking house down too.

Speaking of pre-match debacles did anyone else notice what an utter farce the “Injury Report” was? Apparently The Stefan Martin Experience is “back in training” (last week the club acknowledged that he’s been shelved for the season) and Juice Newton, seen yesterday playing a B-Grade version of Brad Green style end-to-end total football in the VFL, is “one week away from returning”. Worksafe should ask for their money back for sponsoring that crap. Also of note was Relton Roberts of Richmond being on the list with a season ending ‘injury’ labelled as ‘personal’. Makes it sound as if he’s got some sort of serious issue with his cruets.

Apparently there was some sort of game on too, and bloody hell didn’t it look a bit dicey early on? Lucky for us that Richmond were incompetent when they went inside 50 because all they did for the first five minutes was get it in there. For obvious reasons we were double/triple teaming their only decent forward, but elsewhere Nason, taking time out from posting on the Support Australian Hip Hop internet forum and graffiting trains (ok, maybe not the second one but he looks like he should be) was looking far too lively for my liking. Amusingly for all their dominance they only managed two points and the first time we went inside 50 The Jurrahcane kicked the first. Just the sort of winning scenario that we’re usually on the end of – at least on the days when we’re not conceding the first goal within the first 15 seconds. Absolute slop of a game early on, allowing me to psychologically adjust to the prospect of losing by convincing myself that we didn’t deserve to be anywhere near the finals anyway. It was all set up for the sporting equivalent of having something taken away from you as a kid and screaming “I didn’t want it anyway!” To be honest on the strength of the first half alone we don’t deserve it, and the second half was hardly an advertisement for a quality run through September, but like a drowning man thrown a penis shaped life preserver I’ll take whatever I can get at the moment.

Number one moment of the first term was undoubtedly Riewoldt trying to kick one of these now standard along the ground goals and totally stuffing it up. Serves him right, unless you’re kicking from Row Z and have no other option – e.g Bennell against Footscray – just kick the bloody thing through properly. An open goal is not something to be taken lightly. Glad he botched it but I know that one of our players is going to do the same at some point so let’s cut it out now. Somebody start a Facebook pressure group a’la Hey Hey It’s Saturday so the Herald Sun will report on it.

Second quarter didn't answer any questions. Richmond snuck in front by a couple of goals, aided by some idiot taking an epic dive against Rivers right in front of goal, but they were never comfortable with the lead. Much like last week it's a good thing that we were playing a side shitter than us because anybody half decent would have put us away. Jamar was killing it at the bounces but we were getting bugger all out of the middle so thank god for their one dimensional forward line not working. It took Dirty Mo Dunn's double strike within a minute to turn the tide. Johnson's abysmal attempt at a snap would have nearly put us far enough in front to start getting comfortable, but straight after that they went up the other end and kicked a goal themselves to make it interesting. Took TGFB Green to goal on the siren to get us back in front, but it still didn't look comfortable. Rubbish game to that point as well, you'd have switched the channel if you were a neutral. Everyone who has come and told me what a great game it was today must have either switched on for the second half or accidentally slipped on the red/blue tinted glasses.

Luckily for the sake of neutrals (and don’t you hate those guys?) the intensity level was cranked up to a ludicrous level in the second half. Suddenly it was all about ten man stacks-on and guys tackling like rabid animals. The pressure didn’t hurt, but more than anything else Richmond lost because they had bugger all forwards other than Riewoldt. The most telling moment was after Jack’s fruitless first half Hardwick was forced to send Will Thursfield inside 50. Thursfield has played 66 games and kicked zero goals. He has still kicked zero goals tonight despite having two shots early in the quarter. That’s just the sort of bullshit scenario that we usually fall victim to - witness Brett bloody Thornton almost doubling his career total against us earlier in the year - but luckily for us both his shots had a Jamie Shanahan-esque touch about them and he never went near it again.

At the other end The Jurrahcane was suffering from the yips and missed two absolutely gettable kicks on either side of a Jones goal. Am I the only one who is concerned that his technique for marking low to the ground is going to come back to haunt him someday? It's hard to explain without photographic evidence but it seems to me like instead of diving forward to take the mark he almost slides into it with his legs underneath him. All good if he's grabbing them, but every time he goes for one I'm waiting for him to come up with his ankle pointing in the opposite direction.

We'd just got our noses in front again when Cousins marked directly in front but sadly for once wasn’t seeing imaginary rats and dragons and managed to slot the goal instead of extracting his own eyeball with a spoon and microwaving it. No really Ben, get well soon because I don’t want to cop the same sort of hate mail as I did after the second best Nathan Brown snapped his leg and a certain idiot shamefully sung an offensive ditty about it on Level 3 of Telstra Dome while wearing a balaclava. Riewoldt finally got his first when everybody in the western world except the guys wearing red and blue knew he was going to run out and kick it from a better angle, but that was pretty much him done for the day. Looked like it was going to be under a goal at the last change before Dirty Dunn marked and just like last week kicked the big roost from outside 50. If you'd given me odds on him being the clutch goalkicker of the week twice in a row I'd have wanted 100-1 after the Freo debacle, now he's booting them from everywhere.

Still, I wasn't confident being just a goal in front at the last break, and when they took the margin from 7 to 0 within the first two minutes the old blood pressure started to creep up. Was nowhere near the season high score of the minute after the siren against Collingwood in R2 - if it was I'd be dead - but it was creeping upwards. Especially when the Morton goal which tied the scores came as a gift when for the second time yesterday the whole world knew he was going to run around but nobody stood there to stop him.

Thankfully for our collective mental and physical health it was all MFC from there. After playing a first half where he looked completely lost, Watts came into some form in the last. He stuffed up an easy bouncing ball which would have made Bradforth J Miller sit up in his loungeroom and think that he was an absolute cert to get a recall next week, but from then on he pretty much took the piss. Just a minute after the ball bouncing debacle he would up on the end of a Bail kick in the square, after Rohan – one of the best stories of our season - had performed some sort of sick Playstation-esque spin move on the Richmond defence (press triangle + square + R1 if you’re playing at home). More underrated was the way he waited on his kick to Dunn after a desperation torp from the kick-in landed in his arms. He just held it up long enough for the useless Tigers defenders to wander off and leave Ron Jeremy on his own in the square for the fifth goal. Equally underrated was the snap which clearly crossed the line but was paid a mark as part of “Goal Umpire Fuck Ups Week”.

It’s all about confidence. You could argue that Miller needs to be rewarded for his domination in the VFL, but unless The Golden Child is showing signs of fatigue then I can’t bring myself to swap them over. We know what we’re getting with Miller, and we know it’s far more likely to occur against a bunch of 17-year-olds and overpaid Rugby players than it is in an AFL match. No change required in this forward line for me, Watts has got to be thrown into what is effectively our biggest match since the ’06 finals and sink or swim let the cards fall where they may.

Bruce did a great job of tagging Shane Tuck to buggery (at least I think it was Shane Tuck. The longer the season goes the less I care about any opposition player), but any danger he might hit a target by foot at some point? He needs to go to the same short course on “how to dispose effectively when you can’t kick straight” which Jamar emerged from as the most powerful force on earth.

I loved the way how our fans suddenly developed a massive sense of arrogance in the last quarter when the game was well and truly won. Didn’t it warm your heart to hear every single Richmond shot on goal in junktime furiously booed? Even poor old Jack Riewoldt, who had done nothing (literally) all day was given the reception of a serial arsonist when he had the audacity to tie up his shoelaces. Then he missed the kick and the crowd went apeshit. Magic moments.

Underrated highlight was Dunn kicking the sealer by smashing one through from the goalsquare for his fifth then leaving Jurrah hanging on a high five so he could look up to see if the ball landed in the top deck or not. Sadly it fell just short. He got jibbed by the siren out of what may very well have been his sixth, but just to keep things light and interesting he whacked it through with a banana off one step anyway. Certainly went down well with those in the ground who were clearly hard of hearing and didn’t know the game was over. No way would he have kicked it like that had he had the opportunity to go back and take a real shot at goal, but the way he finished it effortlessly tells me he should do it more. He’s certainly had a good run of fluky bounces, wild snaps and grandstand finishes ever since the ridiculous facial hair that he originally sported in the pre-season came back onto the scene a couple of months ago. He has been unreal over the last month or so, for somebody who was on the skids bigtime halfway through the year he’s finally found a niche as a defensive forward who kicks goals as well, and he’s an option to do a tagging job if he absolutely must. I put it down to the mo. It scares children and must surely make him the only footy player less likely to bag a root at Motel than Steven Milne but it’s giving him supernatural powers and cannot under any circumstances be allowed to be shaved off before the end of the season. He who weareth the adult industry standard moustache, kicketh thy clutch goals. Put that on a t-shirt. Just to think, a year ago when the Tank Blitzkrieg was rolling its way towards the draft he was being turned over by Todd Goldstein to the tune of five goals in one of the worst (but deliberate) matchups ever recorded.

Stat My Bitch Up
Joel Macdonald also had a shot which he botched and he’s now the proud owner of the longest active playing streak in an MFC jersey without a single goal. This was his 15th match without one, passing Kyle Cheney who is marooned on 14. At least Macdonald has six career goals in Brisbane to reminisce about, all Cheney has is the honour of being the only person ever to get 5 votes from me on debut.

Both of them have got a long way to go to snatch the all-time record of 90 games held by Bernie Massey between 1960 and 1967. Shanahan (37) and Jamie Duursma (33) are the only players of the last 30 years to be in the top twenty so if Macdonald or Cheney manage to rack up those sorts of numbers I’ll be holding a street party to celebrate.

Crowd Watch
Spent the first half in the middle deck of the Ponsford bedazzled by the sheer amount of Richmond branded knitwear on offer (and not all of it homemade by the looks of it), and the Punt Road peanuts in front of us who got up and started dancing when the PA inexplicably fired up Love Is In The Air before the match. Come gametime and everything else was forgotten when the screeching tart behind me commenced screaming at everything Richmond related in a pitch only slightly inside the realm of what humans can understand. And when she wasn’t saying something like “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” she was lambasting the Tiges for kicking the ball too much. Unfortunately most of her wild anti-kicking sideways rants were delivered when they were doing perfectly legitimate switching of the play to free players. At one point the old bint nearly had a coronary but when the ball got over to the Olympic Stand side wing and found four Richmond players on their own she let out another orgasmic “EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Hypocrite. The idiot sitting with her almost had a fit laughing when he saw the “Eat ‘em Alive” banner in the cheersquad. Must have been the first game they’d ever been to given how that slogan has been getting a run since about 1978.

Unable to stand the headache inducing wailing any longer we moved up a level at half-time. Now, I’m talking to the MCG and whoever the idiots that make a fortune out of the catering contract at the ground here when I say how many people do we need to have at a game to get a food outlet open on that level? Is 45k not enough? Still, I suppose anything that saves me from wasting $4.90 on a soggy, pink hot dog of dubious meat quality can’t be argued against.

Crowd Watch supplement – Look away if you’re eating
Somebody who did get a feed was the kid sitting behind us. Unfortunately it appears that he ate something utterly toxic, because just after the start of the third quarter he was being ushered down to the stairs by his father when he unleashed one of the biggest spews in the history of the Western world. It went all down the railing, and by extension the wall of the walkway. “That’s unfortunate” I said, always the master of understatement, before turning around to realise that he’d ralphed all over the row behind us as well. And I mean all over. Not surprisingly a massive runner was done, though I’m not sure why we only went over to the other side of the walkway because the damage was well and truly still visible. A few minutes later a cleaner was called in by the security guards but he walked up there, took one look at refused to do anything about it. Bear in mind there was a footy match going on during all of this, but I couldn’t look away from the intense human drama. At one point it looked like he was going to call a union meeting and take all the cleaners out on strike. He disappeared for a few minutes before returning, obviously having been told that he was on some sort of Workchoices era AWA which meant he had to do whatever they told him for $7 an hour or get the arse and did a half-arsed job of mopping up the damage. He didn’t touch the damage to the wall though, and later on some annoying child in Corey Worthington issue sunglasses and fluffy jacket leant on it. I nearly rose to applaud.

On a similar topic it was like being in the middle of the World War I with all the seagulls during the fourth quarter. Every time I caught a gust of wind it made me think that I’d copped the bullet with my name on it that I’ve been avoiding since that infamous day when the bastards nailed me in 1993 and we won by twenty goals.

Coaches Corner
Admittedly I took the piss out of Bailey jumping on the bandwagon and coaching from the boundary line, but tell me you don’t love seeing him talking to the players when they come off. Might be something of a different look when we’re getting flogged and he’s sitting there with bigger eyes than Mark Harvey screaming at some poor 18-year-old like the Sergeant Hartman from Full Metal Jacket, but for now I love it. He’s sworn once on TV this year, but wouldn’t it just make your year if Bails started doing FMJ style “what is your major malfunction?” outbursts, screaming in the face of Jack Trengove that “the days fingerbanging Miss Mary Jane Rottencrotch are over”, and threatening to rip Jamie Bennell’s head off and shit down his neck. Glorious.

2010 Allen Jakovich Medal Votes
5 – James Frawley
4 – Lynden Dunn
3 – Brad Green
2 – Aaron Davey
1 – Liam Jurrah

Apologies to Scully (VERY unlucky), Macdonald, Bruce, Bail, Jones, Jamar, Bartram, McDonald and McKenzie.

Leaderboard
The gap closes to one BOG. Something tells me that if we’re going to win next week it might take Chip picking up a shitload of votes to get us over the line. The question is what will happen at the other end. It’s almost certainly down to two after Jamar missed out this week.

38 - Brad Green
33 - James Frawley (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
27 - Mark Jamar (WINNER: Strawbs O'Dwyer Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
24 - Colin Sylvia
23 - James McDonald
15 - Aaron Davey
14 - Matthew Bate
12 - Jack Grimes
11 - Jack Trengove (Leader: Jeff Hilton Medal for Rookie of the Year)
10 - Brent Moloney, Lynden Dunn
8 - Jordan Gysberts, Tom Scully, Jordie McKenzie
7 - Joel Macdonald
5 - Cameron Bruce, Ricky Petterd, Jamie Bennell
3 - Matthew Warnock, Brad Miller, Colin Garland
2 - Neville Jetta, Clint Bartram, Jack Watts
1 - Jared Rivers, Nathan Jones, Austin Wonaeamirri, Liam Jurrah

Fun With The Ladder Predictor
Is it an omen that the predictor is sponsored by Bailey Ladders? As much as I'd love to present all the scenarios here and try to rank them from “probable” to “tripping on acid” it’s enough of a piss-take to be writing most of this at work as is without having the AFL website up running riot with predictions/desperate attempts at convincing self of finals tilt. Maybe later in the week. Call my internet company and tell them to fire up and connect the bloody thing at home so I can do it there.

What I don’t want to hear again is how much this is like 1987. Clearly I was too young to be involved in that madness, but that was in an era when less than half the sides made the finals and games were being played at the same time. This time if the miracle occurs we’ll be falling in pretty much by default and will know exactly what the equation is at 4.39pm on the last day of the season. There’s no ears pressed to radios waiting to hear Geelong stuff if it up at Kardinia Park this time, and the major difference is that it’s only been four seasons since we played finals – then it had been 24 so that’s a tad more extreme of a situation than what we find ourselves in today. Still, tell me that on a Sunday night in late August when we’ve just booked ourselves the chance to be poked in the crack by Freo at Subi. Why are we even discussing this? What the hell has this season/world come to? And if this really is some sort of 1987 Redux we’re at least going to win the first final by 20 goals, watch out for shenanigans in the last couple of minutes of the prelim though.

Next Week
After doing us no favours against the Swans yesterday we get the chance to say thanks to the Hawks by sticking a dagger in their season on Sunday. Can’t see it happening to be honest, but more insane things have happened – either way it’ll be a fair indication of how fair we’ve come from the round one debacle. I have a vision of the future that involves Chip Frawley treating Lance Franklin with utter contempt and Dunn’s mo detaching from his face and kicking six. Then it’s off to Adelaide to get done over by pissweak Port for the tenth consecutive year.

I’m not too keen to rush into making changes for the sake of it. Moloney is a cert if he’s finally fit, but there’s nobody who really deserves to go to make way. We’ve got to double team the Hawks in the ruck so Johnson survives. The Jurrahcane might have been wobbling last week, but he’s a confirmed starter now so that’s bad news for Bate and Miller. Sorry Bradforth, but at least you’re cracking on to a stunner so I’m sure that’ll be some consolation. I don’t know about Bater’s living arrangements but if he’s not achieving on a similar level to Miller then he’ll just have to console himself with the knowledge that I’m still in his fan club.

Also consigned to the lunar surface of Casey Fields for the foreseeable future is Matthew Warnock. Garland muffed it a few times today, but between him, Rivers and Macdonald who is absolutely killing it at the moment there’s no spot for him despite a near BOG performance on Saturday. Handy sort to have in reserve though.

Final Thoughts
Am I the only one who feels slightly guilty that we’re even involved in finals calculations? Guilty, but kind of horny about it (in a sporting way).

The night the couch nearly went off the balcony

There’s something sordid about watching games on Fox instead of being there in person. Maybe it’s because the spectre of Tony Shaw/Dwayne Russell style ‘analysis’ hangs over the coverage, maybe it’s because I feel the need to socialise with the other people watching with me instead of just shoving in an earphone at the game and only speaking to people on my terms. It’s hard work being this much of an anti-social bastard.

Either way I’m forced to confess that once again I sat through an entire TV match and have precious little insight (even less than usual) into what took place. What I do know is that the feint heartbeat of the finals miracle which was so comprehensively rubbished in these pages last week now beats a little louder. Sure it’s been upgraded from “nearly flatline” to “trapped coal miner” but wouldn’t you have spat at anyone who even suggested it at the start of the year – or even a few weeks ago. Still truly unlikely but at least we’ve got something to play for over the next few weeks instead of seeing the whole season slide straight into the junktime trashcan.

Step one was to get a win in Brisbane for the first time since 2006. That was the last time they were truly shite and even then we only just fell over the line so given that we have a worse travelling record than Air Congo it was certainly no gimme that we’d repeat the dose this time. Standing in the way were the biggest footballing fall from grace of the modern era, who would have thought that the night we touched them up earlier in the season would set off one of the most immense crashes in the history of league football. This is a side who were 4-0 and now could win the spoon – that’s got to be a rarity. But just to keep things nice and confusing the one side they beat was the one currently sitting comfortably, and well out in front on the top of the ladder.

You could tell from the first bounce that we were going to get the current model slopfest Lions and not the one that somehow managed to beat the Pies. Maybe it was an omen that when I went to South Melbourne Market yesterday (hello stalkers) somebody was selling Brisbane Bears scarves, because they barely managed to be better than some of the classic Carrara sides of the past. Still, despite Sylvia and Scully running around like men possessed and Jamar massacring anybody the Lions put up against him in the ruck we only snuck in front at the first change thanks to THE CELEBRATOR (sadly no gang symbols flashed last night) goalling at the end after yet another Brisbane cock-up in the backline.

You (almost) had to feel sorry for Michael Voss. Even early in the game when it was even they’d cut to him in the coaches box and he’d look like a man about to have a massive nervous breakdown. Then, already having copped shit from the entire world for his ‘eccentric’ trading policies in the off-season he watched two of his prized (stop laughing) recruits, Fev and Xavier Clarke go down with game ending injuries before half-time. On the other hand Bailey was hanging around the boundary line looking like he was ready to kick back in a banana lounge and start honking onto a cigar. Something tells me that god forbid we ever win a flag there’s not going to be any Mark Williams style choking with the tie and “Alan Scott you were wrong” outbursts from Bails, he’ll probably just get up there, grab the premiership cup and go “yeah that was pretty good” then walk off.

After his lacklustre performances over the last weeks Fev probably only played because he’s got a storied history of stitching us up when he played for Carlton, but they might as well not have bothered because Garland absolutely smacked him from the first bounce until he was mothballed/exiled to KFC in the second quarter. The other member of the ex-Twin Towers of the forward line Brown did his usual trick of trying to carry the whole side on his shoulders but there’s only so much you can do when you’re surrounded by garbage. Didn’t help that he was on the red hot Frawley who smashed him going the other way as well.

Second quarter was when class started to win out, and there’s not many times in the past few years you’ve been able to say in regards to us. First they bugger one up royally kicking across the face of goal for Green to goal after a Watts handball when he could have taken a shot, then Bennell stuffs up an easy one on the run before the man, the myth, the Sylvia (somebody please go and erase all those posts where I suggested Brock was the best one out of that draft) and Bail both kicked goals to send us clear. Then in what must surely have been the defining highlight of the evening Davey pulled off the save of the year flying through the air to mark a certain goal down to a point. Nothing was going wrong for us and the Lions couldn’t get anything right.. Until they kicked a goal. Never fear though because Dunn had strapped his kicking boots on again (which is a rarity) and got his second before Johnson (barely did anything but played a handy backup to the Russian master) got another a minute later to send us in five goals to the good. Things were going so well that I even managed to tune out the sound of Tony Shaw’s voice and completely ignore his commentary for a whole quarter. Glorious.

So far so good, and on the strength of last week’s third quarter slaughter you’d think we were going to waltz away with this one as well, especially with the Lions down to two players on the bench. Then the tempo of the game changed completely, the Brisbane players - obviously having been on the end of an almighty spray from Voss at half-time – deciding to put in for the first time since the ten minute mark of the first quarter and we started to crack a bit under the pressure. Not only that but the forward line which had looked so deadly in the first half were suddenly all at sea and the ball was continuously being pumped inside 50 and straight to Brisbane players. The only compensation was that they were utterly bollocks as well, and with Mitch Clark unable to hit the side of a barn from the first of numerous set shots during the half we just managed to stay in front. The only spark for the Lions came from Albert Proud who was, I’m sure you’ll agree, sporting the worst haircut in not only the history of the VFL/AFL but maybe the world. If you didn’t see it then there’s nothing I can say that will give you a picture of how bad it looked. It was basically a closely cropped haircut but with a line completely shaved between forehead and top of head. Absolutely ridiculous. Somewhere even Nathan Carroll was sitting at home (or perhaps in a jail cell) shaking his head and wondering what the hell the kid was thinking when he went in and asked for one of those.

Ten minutes without a score and it was a case of “thank god they’re so shit” because we completely lost our rhythm. Eventually the idiot with the bad hair got two goals in two minutes and Brown another to crack the game wide open. Cue much nervous fidgeting and warnings from the people who knew to the non-football fan in the room that they were about to see one of my famous footy spaz outs. Somewhat unfair I thought considering I’d watched the whole thing until then the sense of detatchment that you only get from suddenly thinking that you follow a decent team but not wanting to talk it up too much in case you actually don’t. Mind you this was the people who saw me throw things across a room when we lost that NAB Cup game against Hawthorn in Tasmania after swearing black and blue for four quarters that I wouldn’t get upset no matter what happened, so obviously they knew better than to take my word for it that I’d behave.

Luckily just when it looked like the Lions were going to drag the margin into single digits Rockliff the idiot gave away a cheap free-kick to Thank God For Brad Green for a push in the back and the future captain slotted the goal from row K of the stands. So much manlove for that guy, we might have fallen out briefly in the mid 00’s but it goes right back to the moments after the Farmer-led win against Collingwood in 2000 when I tried to offer him my then girlfriend in joy at the victory. He wisely declined and I was stuck with her. That was also the day that I told Shane Woewodin I’d backed him for the Brownlow and that he was going to win it. And did I get a thanks in the speech when he did? No I bloody did not.

20 points in front at the last change and the general consensus in the room was that we were home and I should stop clutching the side of the couch like I was on a freefalling DC-10. “We’ve lost from better positions than this!” I cried, and not without some justification. One goal quarters aren’t so bad when you’ve done the hard work already, but it doesn’t help against a side desperate to get the monkey off their back in front of a home crowd. When Clark stuffed up his second and third shots of the half to cut the margin to an even three goals it looked even more likely that we were going to suffer the sort of reverse which could cause me to pitch the couch off the balcony onto a car 11 floors below. Then Brown got it right for his second goal and I started to think of what angle I’d have to tilt the thing on to get onto the balcony.

Cue ten minutes of arm wrestle, end to end football with the Lions looking far more likely to score than us. When Banfield – the man so red that he makes Matthew Bate and the Demonblog toaster guy feel good – goalled to cut the margin to five points I could see where it was going and I DID NOT LIKE IT AT ALL. Not that I let on, in a desperate attempt to prove the critics wrong I remained outwardly calm despite the feeling that my internal organs were about to spew out of my body a’la Aliens. This is why I should avoid watching games with neutrals, it’s too embarrassing to lose the plot and make a fool of yourself. At least when you’ve got your own fans there they understand.

Thank god then for Tom Rockcliff who managed to gift us a goal for the second time in the quarter when he gave away a ridiculous 50 on Dunn. Two goals for the whole half, both from his indiscretions – we should send him a card. It was the most obvious free of all time, so if you go to work tomorrow and some Brisbane fan (if you can find one) tries to tell you that it wasn’t then tip their desk over. What a complete tool, the man with the worst facial hair in football takes an easy mark in front of him and Rockliff the spaz pushes him squarely in the back right in front of the umpire. What did he expect to happen? Amazingly Dunn, not exactly the most reliable set shot in the world managed to drill a 50m bomb and we were home. My mask of sanity slipped and I ended up sliding onto the floor and pounding it with both hands in celebration.

Proud and his rubbish haircut missed a shot that would have bought it back to under a goal and we were home. Watts had a flying snap at the other end that would have bought the house down but missed. Didn’t matter, we’d just done enough to keep the dream alive.

Watts played an interesting game. 27 touches but seemed to be playing in the midfield for most of the night. Was pretty good early but towards the end he got rolled under pressure a few times, and a couple of his handballs were pure bollocks. Still, he's getting better and better every week so I expect nothing more than pure superstardom next year. Not to put the pressure on or anything..

Now we’re pitched into a nerve shattering hellride involving us only losing one more this season (presumably to Hawthorn), and everyone around us getting done when they’re supposed to. Never happens that way, but you can always live the dream. Either way how much more fun is football again?

2010 Allen Jakovich Medal Votes
5 – Colin Sylvia
4 – Mark Jamar
3 – Joel Macdonald
2 – Tom Scully
1 – Jordie McKenzie

Apologies to Bruce, Dunn (stiffer than a honeymooner to miss out), Jones, Garland, Davey, Watts, Frawley, Bartram, Morton, Davey and Green

Leaderboard
So the week after I say that there’s no way Green or Frawley won’t pick up votes in upcoming games both of them are nudged into the apologies (unluckily in Frawley’s case). Four votes for Jamar keeps his hopes alive, but the big two are still the ones to beat. Imagine if this was decided by a finals game? I’d probably have died with joy and somebody else would have to do the honours.

Elsewhere Scully closes the gap on Trengove for the Hilton. I made the rules for eligibility so obtuse that I can't even remember if McKenzie is eligible so we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

35 - Brad Green
28 - James Frawley (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
27 - Mark Jamar (WINNER: Strawbs O'Dwyer Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
24 - Colin Sylvia
23 - James McDonald
14 - Matthew Bate
13 - Aaron Davey
12 - Jack Grimes
11 - Jack Trengove (Leader: Jeff Hilton Medal for Rookie of the Year)
10 - Brent Moloney
8 - Jordan Gysberts, Tom Scully, Jordie McKenzie
7 - Joel Macdonald
6 - Lynden Dunn
5 - Cameron Bruce, Ricky Petterd, Jamie Bennell
3 - Matthew Warnock, Brad Miller, Colin Garland
2 - Neville Jetta, Clint Bartram, Jack Watts
1 - Jared Rivers, Nathan Jones, Austin Wonaeamirri

Next Week
Richmond on Sunday. Bloody nora the pulse rate will start to quicken a bit if we win this one. Either way it’ll be a far cry from that debacle of a match last season, I wouldn’t expect to see a Warnock led forward line this time. Now that their mini-revival has come and gone you’d expect that we’d win comfortably to keep the juggernaut rolling but nothing is for sure. Either way next Sunday night/Monday morning you’re going to read something wild on here – we’ll either have snatched shambles from the jaws of glory or the MFC Miracle will be one step closer.

One for the true believers

It takes hardy fans to still be coming out at this time of the year, in force or otherwise, when you're in the position we are. Everyone, even the club website which is contractually obligated to be frothy and as optimistic as possible, had conceded that we couldn't possibly play finals football this year. But nor are we, you would hope, going to be in the mix to finish last either. For the first time in god knows how long we're mired deep in a chasm between thinking (or hoping) we're good, and knowing that we're complete rubbish.

Come though we did and something ridiculous, magical and quite possibly fictional happened. I'm still waiting for the Candid Camera team to leap out from behind my office door and tell me that the whole thing was a humorous set up and that we actually lost by ten goals behind closed doors on Saturday night. Either that or I was collected by the number 247 bus on the way to the ground and had been transported, in complete contradiction to everything I believe in, to heaven. But further investigation seems to indicate that not only am I still alive - because having to show up at work on a Monday morning clearly indicates that you are NOT in heaven - but that it was a legitimate result in a match sanctioned by the AFL. The sun is a little bit brighter, the birds are singing and the Herald Sun predicted ladder has lost the plot and decided that we're going to finish 8th. These are strange times.

Interesting times as well at the selection table with Bate dropped for Emo Maric. Hardly a like for like swap but they had to reward Fallout Boy for his strong performances in the VFL and there wasn't really anybody in our forward line who deserved to get the boot. Sometimes it feels like Garry Lyon and I are the only people in the world who actually like Bate which is odd because I'm still convinced that he's an important part of our forward line. Still, the way we played yesterday he's hardly going to walk straight back into the side. Condemn me for supporting him now, history will absolve me.

Also out, late this time was Moloney. Again replacing him with Wona was anything but a straight swap but that turned out to be an inspired move when he turned out to play probably his best game all-round ever for us. His first quarter was unreal and now that he's got match fitness back he just needs to keep his hamstring from tearing apart every five seconds and he'll be a killer player in that forward line. The late swap meant that finally after almost two seasons of waiting we finally got to see THE CELEBRATOR line up on the same field as The Jurrahcane, and my god it was immense. There was one moment where they both tried to do something magical at the same time and it cancelled itself out but other than that it was pure and simple genius. I'm certainly a SCULLGOVE fan, but there's no doubt that these two could be the most exciting duo since Hall & Oates if they keep fit and on the field.

Interesting to see Wona flashing some sort of sign after kicking his goal as well. I doubt he's in a gang so god knows what it all meant. Why even question genius? They don't call him THE CELEBRATOR for nothing. Actually nobody calls him that other than me, but at least it's justified again nearly two years since that leaping fist pump after the goal against Fremantle which was captured on the front page of the Age sports section and is still pinned up on the wall in front of me here at my desk.

The loss of Moloney, not fully recovered from last week's injury, meant that Jamar lost his Psychic Friends Connection partner but any suggestion that it would affect him was thrown out the window from the first bounce when he tapped straight to replacement Psychic Friend Sylvia who roosted the first clearance out of the centre after about two seconds. So far so good, but it got better when the ball spilt to Bennell who turned on the afterburners and dropped the ball in the goalsquare for Dunn to gleefully smash home out of mid-air. In 20 seconds we'd achieved what it usually takes us 25 minutes and a five goal deficit to. Should have known that shenanigans were in the air.

Usually an early goal would be the cue to put the feet up and concede the rest of the quarter, but they must have put something in the water this week because the guys in red and blue unleashed a cyclone of epic proportions. Next stop was Thank God For Brad Green marking inside 50 and hitting the post.. but having it paid as a goal anyway - cheers for that! That got him on an epic roll and he kicked our next two as well to spark suggestions of a Le Cras-esque goal frenzy. He's having a spectacular season. Goal umpiring rorts aside he's never been better, and unlike most of our forwards he's one guy that I'm perfectly confident in seeing roaming the backline or midfield as well. As good a game as Bruce had tagging/destroying O'Keefe it still baffles me that in Junior's absence Green isn't acting captain. I'll be even more baffled, slash absolutely homicidal, if he isn't installed as the next permanent captain. Only Moloney, or the dreaded joint ticket, could cause me to restrain myself.

What's going on with the Bruce to GC rumours? Are they of the same calibre as the Didak to GC one that was going around yesterday only for him to resign with the Pies today. His disposal is still iffy (witness THAT kick against Freo) and I still wouldn't throw myself off a cliff if he went but if he's going to do terminator jobs on quality players like yesterday then I'll have him any day of the week, just not as captain. He even won an admittedly shonky free kick against ROK for the goal that pushed the first quarter over the line from "solid" to "bloody hell what's going on here". When Watts hit a perfect pass to The Jurrahcane after casually stepping out of traffic and connecting with the kick about half a second before being tackled we were in heaven. LJ kicked it and the alert level was lifted to "too good to be true". Then Jones kicked one on the run from 50 and the alert level just went totally off the scale. Goodes got one at the other end to make it a bit more respectable, but only for a few seconds as Dunn continued the trend of absolutely everything going right for us by wildly throwing the ball onto the boot from 40 and watching it float through.

At this point it was only 20 minutes in and with eight on the board it could have gone anywhere. Lewis Jetta provided a comedy highlight at the other end by getting a dish off handball from Goodes 20m out and botching the kick to take his career tally to 0.16.

Just when it looked like we were going to rack up a ten goal quarter and really put the game away the Swans managed to apply the brakes and stop our free flowing, sexy football long enough to get into quarter time a long way behind but not completely blown out of the game. Still, what a quarter. We got a lucky break on the Green goal, but I'll take that one to make up for all the other times we've been rorted by goal umpires this year. Other than that it was total football domination from end to end. The score was only a point better than the Richmond game but the difference in quality was huge. This was a decent team and this time we got the good start instead of conceding the first fifteen minutes and a couple of goals before sparking. They had slaughtered Carlton in the first quarter last week and we'd rolled over and died against Freo so it was almost inconceivable that they could be so bad and we could be so good, it was certainly an exciting way to (at least temporarily) bury our run of bad starts. Once we hit three goals I was happy, and then every one after that made me smile just a little bit more until the siren went and my face was stretched further than Kerry Anne Kenneally's.

Not surprisingly the end of season apathy that had descended on me last week lifted significantly as the quarter went on. By the time the 8th goal went in it's like last week's depression session had never even occurred. Funny what happens when football temporarily becomes fun again.

The Swans past players function in the Harrison Room behind us had a true funeral atmosphere. Serves them right for not inviting The Indian Rubber Man Jamie Lawson or Sanford Wheeler. Bob Skilton was standing at the window looking crestfallen, obviously not taking any comfort out of the fact that he used to coach us, but where was Kevin Dyson? Nowhere to be seen.

So a blistering first quarter was nice, but what chance we'd actually back it up and go again? Obviously you can't expect eight goals a quarter, especially given that we've never kicked more than 28 in a game, but the last thing we wanted was a repeat of the Richmond game where we followed up a scorching eight goal term by kicking none in the next. We'd built up what should have been a match winning lead but we've lost from better positions than that before.

What we needed was a sign, and it was nearly Demonblog's own Maric who provided it. Sadly he was clearly unaware that the whole crowd were going to be given My Chemical Romance tickets when he kicked his first goal and missed a snap to start the quarter. That would have absolutely bought the house down and caused emo fringe wigs to be sold in the Megastore. Speaking of the Megastore ("Meesen Magic" capes and "I Saw Mark Jamar have 6 kicks" shirts now 70% off) I loved the promotion that they were running where you got 20% off jerseys if we won. Bet they didn't think they'd have to pay out on that, but I support the addition of a Myer Doorbuster Sales element to our retail strategy.

The real sign was provided, as it so often is, by Green who kicked his fourth to really twist the knife on the Swans. Then Frawley tore the knife out, screamed "COP THIS YOU BASTARDS" and plunged it straight back in again with his second career goal. And a thing of beauty is was too. Poor Mike Pyke was having an absolute nightmare, even worse than the day I saw him get towelled up by the Meese in a practice match, and was already well on the way to ensuring no Canadian ever got near an AFL venue ever again before rising above the pack to punch Chip's kick through only to have a big old fresh airy and see it bounce through. Cruel but fair(ly hilarious). To say everything was going right for us would be the understatement of the millenium, Frawley even managed to stay in a chase with Jetta right down the Southern Stand wing long enough to put him off his kick. Sounds distinctly unimpressive unless you were there and saw the sight of this obscenely large necked beast of a man pissbolting after a pacy little guy and nearly catching him. Same goes for a similar Watts chase on Jetta but without the neck made out of concrete blocks.

Jamar (*swoon*) took one of his trademark massive big bastard hangers in the square and for all intents and purposes it was over. Anything could have happened from there, never forget the Freo 51 point debacle but it was more likely that we were going to get a repeat of the Essendon match with the other lot firing up briefly after receiving a blockbusting spray from the coach before we got on top again and put them away. Cazart! The slaughter continued almost unopposed. If it wasn't for Adam Goodes then Sydney would have been down by 500, if I'd been handing out the votes for them today it would have been the biggest gulf between 5 and 4 in the history of vote giving. Morton lost, but not by a knockout and he had his moments. It was really only when Goodes took him forward that he got killed in marking contests, other than that he did about as good a job as he could against the only guy on their side who had any interest whatsoever.

Amongst the rain of goals came one of the most beautifully casual finishes ever when Wonaeamirri ran into the not-at-all-open goal with a Swans player standing guard and dinked a tiny little kick into the corner with no apparent effort. Classic finish and a big fat gold star on a cracker of a day. Speaking of big and fat he is no longer either of these and looks as good as he did in the pre-season last year before his run of injuries started. Additional highlight of the quarter, and possibly the whole game was Brett Meredith (who?) getting the ball in front of his own goal and running around in circles forgetting to bounce until the umpire finally tired of him and pinged him for holding it, leading to Davey kicking a goal. Classic shambles, sign that guy up to play for us. Especially considering that after he got pinged he stood there with a hurt look on his face like he didn't know what he'd done, that just made it even more tragically comic.

81 points in front at three-quarter time and you just had to shake your head and wonder what the hell was going on. I turned around to have a look at the past players function behind me and not surprisingly the room was empty other than a few bored kids playing on the floor. Even Skilts, Mr. South Melbourne himself, had walked out. And can you blame him? Sydney had never lost by more than 72 under Paul Roos so this must have been something out of the ordinary for everyone involved. Dean Bailey lost his first two games as coach by more than that so we're used to it. A few minutes into the last, after Watts got his weekly charity free in front of goal and the man, the myth, the Jamar had kicked another margin blew out over 90 and it started to look like we might be in line for the magic triple digit win. Given that we've only done it 14 times since 1897 it would have been nice, but frankly I was just happy to be able to enjoy a last quarter without worrying about 50 point comebacks.

Sydney took advantage of a lengthy period of junktime, and you can drag the trashcan out and start sifting through your recyclables whenever Jamar goes to full forward and stays there ten minutes into the last, to make it a little bit more respectable. Having missed the last 100 point win against Carlton in 2004 due to work I've been waiting since Round 21, 1993 to see another one in person. How many posts have I written that reference that great day? Jakovich and Andy Lovell kick eight and a bird shat on me in the bottom deck of the Ponsford at three-quarter time. Don't stop me if you've heard this one before, I could think about it all day. Except I don't remember anything other than the score and the aerial bombardment and Name A Game can't offer a copy to fill in the gaps.

They dragged it back to 73 points, Goodes playing the lonest of lone hands by kicking the last two - the second a gift from Fallout Boy trying to hit a pinpoint target 60m away coming out of the backline. Why was he even in the backline? Who cares as long as stuffing it up didn't cause him to cut himself and/or blame his parents.

The Great Debate
If Jamar hasn't sealed at least the backup ruck spot in the All-Australian team now then the selectors officially hate our guts. Other than that giraffe Sandilands, Mumford was surely his only realistic challenger and he tossed him out of the way in rag doll fashion. The roar he got when he came off the ground in the last quarter was unreal. I was looking in the opposite direction and wondered what the hell had happened. Cometh the hour, cometh the MANBEAST.

Frawley and Green wouldn't have harmed their chances of at least getting a mention at the end of the year either. I doubt either could get in from here but it'll be nice to have some of our players in the mix for once.

Also apparently there is some sort of federal poll going on. It would probably be against the Electoral Act for me to tell you to vote improperly, but I'm suggesting that if enough people go into their polling station on August 21 and write "I LOVE THE JURRAHCANE" both above and below the line that we'll be well on our way to a better, more orderly society.

Crowd Watch
Sitting directly behind me was Guy Rigoni and family. His daughter is clearly a genius because both of the first two points that Sydney kicked were after she yelled out "KICK A POINT". Was a massive Rigoni fan in his day, but couldn't bring myself to do the typical fan thing of trying to have a chat. If I turned around to find Philthy or Jakovich there it would be a completely different matter.

Also behind us was a complete nutbag of a Swans fan who started yelling out slogans at the first bounce and, to his credit, didn't stop even when his side were getting beaten to a bloodied pulp. His entire day was screaming out the names of imagined infringements every time a player from either side touched the ball. We'd lay a tackle and he'll scream "IN THE BACK!" "OVER THE SHOULDER!", a Sydney player would do the same and it was "BALL! BALL! BALL!". Even the Swans fans in front of us were silently shaking their heads in shame and grief every time he spoke. Finally one of their players got pinged for holding it and the entire section, even including Clan Rigoni let rip with a big, satisfied "BALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL" just to give it to him.

My highlight was in the middle of the third quarter massacre when Sydney were trying, albeit comically, to get it out of their backline and he screamed "KENNEDY! KENNEDY! KICK IT TO KENNEDY!" and somebody yelled out "Kick it whoever you like, it's not going to fucking help you". Brought the house down. Hearing our fans ripping out arrogant lines again is almost enough to bring a tear to the eye.

I'm also convinced that somebody behind me yelled "EMO!" the first time Maric touched the ball, but I think that's more like wishful thinking.

Pomeranz/Stratton Corner
This post is delayed due to going straight to see The Ghost Writer at MIFF post-match. I felt morally dubious paying to watch a Polanski film, but if people pay money to be members of St Kilda then I suppose I'm allowed to look at a film for the artistic merits and ignore the sleazy shenanigans of the director. Besides it's not my fault that the pissweak Swiss legal system (Swissweak?) let him go after I'd agreed to see the film. Don't bother with it, decent performances are ruined by some of the worst plot twists since episodes of Scooby Doo. Two stars Margaret.

Delays also due to the fact that for the sixth time in the Demonblog era I'm in the middle of moving house and have no internet at home. Despite the fact that I sit at work surrounded by legit Demons fanatics (all of whom I'm understandably too ashamed to disclose the existence of Demonblog to) there is only so much you can get away with when people wander past your desk and see you writing lengthy love letters to Russian ruckmen. Alt-tab has been getting one of the biggest runs ever today.

Chub Corner
My previous claim that I'd eat fat porky food after every win until either we won the flag or I died has gone out the window. If THE CELEBRATOR can be trim, taut and terrific then so can some idiot off the internet. So I ate a salad. Bleh. Oh for the glory days of seasons 2002/03 when the fat man music from the start of the Carlton song used to play as I walked the streets.

2010 Allen Jakovich Medal Votes
5 - Colin Sylvia
4 - James Frawley
3 - Cameron Bruce
2 - Brad Green
1 - Austin Wonaeamirri

Apologies to everyone else. The only two in any danger of missing out would be Watts and Johnson, and even they were handy. The Golden Child had a great first quarter before drifting out of it a bit but some of the stuff he did early on was epic. Look at the way Frawley has gone from promising but flawed to damn near superstardom within a couple of years and apply the same curve to Watts. Then have a lie down and try to stop hyperventilating.

Bartram, Jamar and Joel Mac were probably the next cabs off the rank for votes. Macdonald has had a couple of awesome weeks, now that he's got his confidence up he's playing bloody good football down there. Same goes for Garland.

Johnson didn't provide anything special but for the last two weeks he's done exactly what a second string ruckman should. He might be lulling us into a false sense of security with a Miller-esque 'end of contract' burst, but on the strength of the last two weeks - and pending the eventual arrival of GAWN - he might almost earn himself another year. The Spencil isn't ready, poor Meesen Magic is cooked and even if we draft another ruckman this year he's not going to be ready to step in from round one next year so PJ might just survive. Is he even out of contract or am I just assuming it? It wouldn't surprise me to see us go with just Jamar a lot next year, but for the lack of any other realistic options I'd be satisfied with having Johnson hanging around as a backup. Come back next week after he has a shocker to read how I firmly believe he should be traded to Northcote Secondary College Old Boys for a pack of Briquettes and a copy of Who Weekly.

Leaderboard
And then there were two. Jamar (and conceivably McDonald) could still win from here but they'd need a miracle - there's no way that the red hot Green and Frawley are not going to pick up more votes for the rest of the year as long as they stay on the park. Either way it's going to be the sixth different winner in six years of the award (one each in order to Johnstone, McLean, Jones, Bruce and Davey). Have I really been doing this for six seasons? My god.

35 - Brad Green
28 - James Frawley (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
23 - James McDonald, Mark Jamar (WINNER: Strawbs O'Dwyer Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
19 - Colin Sylvia
14 - Matthew Bate
13 - Aaron Davey
12 - Jack Grimes
11 - Jack Trengove (Leader: Jeff Hilton Medal for Rookie of the Year)
10 - Brent Moloney
8 - Jordan Gysberts
7 - Jordie McKenzie
6 - Tom Scully, Lynden Dunn
5 - Cameron Bruce, Ricky Petterd, Jamie Bennell
4 - Joel Macdonald
3 - Matthew Warnock, Brad Miller, Colin Garland
2 - Neville Jetta, Clint Bartram, Jack Watts
1 - Jared Rivers, Nathan Jones, Austin Wonaeamirri

Emblemgate
If you're the sort of person who wastes your leisure time reading MFC related forums you can't have helped sneak a look at the new logo that was 'leaked' during the week. I'm not sure leaked is the right term given that it was there on the IP Australia trademarks website for the whole world to see, but within a few hours the club were frantically running around trying to get the forums to take it down. Fair enough too, but I don't think it's such an issue that the handful of people who read forums got a look. At least the feedback was positive. Compare and contrast to the pasting the Brisbane and Adelaide cartoon slopfest logos got when they were leaked. The club might act hurt that it got out there but you can't tell me that they weren't treating the reaction as an impromptu focus group once it did.

I first saw it a couple of weeks ago but was asked to shut up about it so I did, but now that the cat is out of the bag there's no harm discussing it. The concept is sound, to toss out the idea of a cartoon Demon (including that rubbish one eyed Batman thing on our away jumper) and go to a real emblem, like a real football club. I can't fault that, and what they have come up with is pretty good. It's a little busy, but everything on there is there for a reason.

The masterstroke is the EST 1858 at the bottom, that's something we should never let anybody forget and the second piece of genius is the extract from the original rules in the background. Bugger of a thing for schoolkids to draw but a beautiful design touch. Don't forget next time some opposition peanut questions you on the rules, or suggests that we're getting a free run from the umpires, to yell "SHUT UP YOU PEASANT, WE WROTE THE BLOODY RULES". It's not our fault that everyone has ruined them over the years.

The only bit that I don't like is the Southern Cross. Even before that logo was hijacked by nationalist dickheads who drive cars with "Fuck off we're full" bumper stickers (*shudder*) it never resonated with me. Now that they're queueing up to get it tattooed on them it's even worse. Somebody has to take the symbol back from the fuckheads of society, and it may as well be fine, upstanding citizens like us but personally I'd lose that bit and it would be pretty much perfect. There's a footy on there too which looks a bit odd to me at the moment, but I'm sure it'll grow. I like the idea of not having any mention of footy on the crest/emblem/logo at all - we should insinuate that we're bigger than the sport itself.

If you haven't seen it I'll respect the club's position (maybe for the first time) and not send you a link, but suffice to say that you don't have to have Hollywood movie style "mad hack1ng skillz!?" to find it yourself. Unless of course they've wised up and changed the name of the registration from Melbourne Football Club to Jolimont Bakery or something to disguise it.

What I find interesting is that it was found by somebody who was trawling that website looking for the new Gold Coast Suns logo. They found our new emblem but never turned up the GC one. Did they just hide theirs better or was it not on there for some reason? Having seen it I probably wouldn't have even bothered trademarking it if I was them.

Franchise Watch
Speaking of the Gold Coast how much of a let down was their name? Suns joins Power as the worst nickname in the league. Dockers is a bit pox but at least waterfront workers have a storied history of shooting each other so that's got some edge to it. It's a headline writers dream but lacks that vicious "we're going to kill you" element that makes a good team name. You can forgive teams like the Swans for sticking with non-threatening ancient nicknames for historical reasons, but if you're starting a new side then at least give the fans something to get agro about. What's wrong with a good old fashioned Wildcat, Wolverine, Panther etc.. I don't care if there are no panthers here, there are no bloody Tigers either and that doesn't seem to have harmed Richmond's off-field image too badly. It's focus group thinking and it shits me to tears. It's the same reason that we've got an election between two idiots who are basically running the same campaign in different coloured jerseys. Here's hoping West Sydney are a bit more bold in their image. But I'm not the target market am I? They're trying to get 12-year-olds to ditch Rugby League and soccer, but tell me what 12-year-olds want if they don't want meaningless violence? At that age I was knocking people's digital blocks off playing Mortal Kombat (Johnny Cage fatality was fwd-fwd-fwd + high punch - keep that in mind), I can't see the kids of today firing up for throwing their XBox and whatever today's high violence video gaming equivalent is out the window to follow a team called The Suns. They didn't even get it right and include the greatest sun of all, the one on the flag of Uruguay.

And how about their song? The tune is automatically better than that of Port, Carlton, Footscray, West Coast and Freo already but the words are, predictably, terrible. It's unbelievable that after 12 seasons of "stop stop stop" "top top top" destroying the Port theme that somebody would sit down and include the lines "sun sun sun" "run run run". You're writing an anthem, not a Beach Boys song. And why would you have a line that says "We'll win the premiership for you". Do the players ever sing the song to the supporters? Of course they don't, so how stupid is that going to sound when they're in a circle singing it at the end of a game? And what sense does that line make when the fans are singing it? It might just have replaced "teamwork is the thing that talks" as the most baffling line in a club song.

Anyway, here's to them taking Miller off our hands, merging with West Sydney and relocating to Dubbo within a decade.

Next Week
Brisbane at the Gabba. Now even if we'd lost today we might have gone in favourites for this one considering just how putrid the Lions have been since we derailed their season (and plunged it straight off a bridge) on that glorious night at the MCG earlier in the year. Now that we've slapped a legitimate finals contender upside the head in spectacular fashion it's almost certain that we'll go in at a short price. If the game was being played in Melbourne you'd pencil us in, but the shadow of the great travel curse looms large. One win interstate (is it still interstate if you go to a territory? Gillard/Abbott/Brown - sort this out immediately) by one point in the last three years says to me that evil surrounds us and anything could happen. Afterall the only game they've won since we beat them was against Collingwood there, and they didn't do too badly against St Kilda so I wouldn't put your house on it yet.

Interesting to hear talk that they might drop Fev. Sure he's suffering from a terminal lack of interest, and sure he looks like he's bought a lifetime subscription to KFC but surely his record against us saves him from the chop. I know he did nothing last time but if you're going to send him off to play in the QAFL it might be worth giving him his last chance against a side that he's cut up in the past. Here's hoping that he plays, does bugger all and is given the FanFooty hamburger logo.

The rest of the year
Come 4.40pm on the last Sunday of the season I'd love to be proven wrong and for the match against North to be a pseudo-Elimination Final but I still can't see it happening. Sure, we play some utter slop in the last five weeks of the year but it would take a set of fanciful Twin Peaks-esque circumstances to get us in. Firstly we've got to win games in Brisbane AND Adelaide, instantly doubling the Bailey away win tally and snapping the Football Park curse at the same time. Then it would take the likes of Sydney, North, Carlton and Adelaide to lose every single game that they don't start favourite in. If you've got holidays booked in September there's no need to call Flight Centre and try and get a refund yet, but if we win the next two you might want to start investigating putting your dirty weekend in Penang back to sometime in October.

Final Thoughts
I bet you just as I click PUBLISH that somebody will reveal that the game was a hoax.

Cruntry and Western

(Check back tomorrow, I might add something to this when I'm not suffering from such a terminal lack of interest)

(Nope, doesn't look like it. Missing the first quarter in traffic totally ruined my flow and the rest of the game passed in some sort of bizarre blur. The only positive to come out of the whole shambles is that Watts isn't copping the universal - undeserved may I add - shoeing I thought he'd get for missing that goal at the end. Remind me not to send this out as the review chapter for the book...)

Before the game today I jokingly said "Bet you any money we're six goals down at quarter time". Oh the hilarity, oh the shambles that followed. The upside to the whole grim setup was that I was trying to drive from Richmond to St Kilda Road to watch the game. Had I left before the Richmond/North game finished it would have taken me ten minutes and I'd have been forced to watch the whole thing. As it was the next thirty minutes was spent getting slaughtered in traffic listening to it unfold on SEN. By the time I walked in a few minutes into the second quarter it seemed like it would have been a better idea to find something else to do with a Sunday afternoon and not to waste my time on another pissweak first half effort.

But anybody who has watched us for the last couple of years should know that this is exactly the time you should start watching us, because that's when we kick goals, take risks and play bloody good football. I had other things on my mind today, couldn't take the game seriously - maybe I've hit the wall with season 2010 and it's going to be an even bigger slopfest on here than it is on the field from now on? Either way I have to admit sparking up in the third quarter when we got that run on. How good was Frawley's run out of defensive 50? How equally beautiful was the Jamar handball to Davey at the very last minute before he got wrapped up, and the dancing sidestep Flash took before he snapped the goal. We charged back into it at a million miles an hour, and the same players who looked like shite in the second quarter (and presumably the first) looked like world beaters.

Why does this always happen to us? What causes us to put together so many one goal first quarters? There's only so far you can hide behind being a 'young team' before somebody has to take the blame. Get some sports psychologist idiot in there if you have to, do a bit of watch swinging hypnotism if required. Tell them that they're in the 50's and that Bailey is Norm freaking Smith for all I care, just do something.

By three-quarter time we were back in it, but all the momentum had come and gone by the end of the term. We'd done enough to get into a position to possibly nick it, but it would have been daylight robbery

2010 Allen Jakovich Medal Votes
5 - James Frawley
4 - Colin Sylvia
3 - Joel Macdonald
2 - Colin Garland
1 - Tom Scully

Apologies to Davey, Bail, Morton, Rivers, Green, Jones, McKenzie, Bennell, Johnson (surprisingly good..) and Jurrah

Leaderboard
33 - Brad Green
24 - James Frawley (WINNER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
23 - James McDonald, Mark Jamar (WINNER: Strawbs O'Dwyer Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
14 - Matthew Bate, Colin Sylvia
13 - Aaron Davey
12 - Jack Grimes
11 - Jack Trengove (Leader: Jeff Hilton Medal for Rookie of the Year)
10 - Brent Moloney
8 - Jordan Gysberts
7 - Jordie McKenzie
6 - Tom Scully, Lynden Dunn
5 - Ricky Petterd, Jamie Bennell
4 - Joel Macdonald
3 - Matthew Warnock, Brad Miller, Colin Garland
2 - Cameron Bruce, Neville Jetta, Clint Bartram, Jack Watts
1 - Jared Rivers, Nathan Jones

Coaches Corner
Why does Mark Harvey look like a startled owl?


Commentators Corner
Thank god for no Dwayne Russell, and no having our comeback destroyed by him screaming catchphrases to stop you from turning over to The Simpsons. Also how much would you have given to swap Gerard Healy/Glen Jakovich for Greg/Allen?

Live from Casey Fields... it's Saturday afternoon
Made the horrible mistake of not only going to arctic Cranbourne criminally underdressed but also aiming to make the second half of the two's to watch Monster Max GAWN in action for the first time. God knows what I was thinking expecting a guy who hadn't played a game in 14 months, coming off a knee injury, to play a full game in the reserves on a surface that resembled a Civil War Battlefield.

So by the time the main event started I was cold and disillusioned. With a strong wind blowing diagonally across the ground any chance of a decent contest was ruined. Maric and McNamara looked good at either end, but by the time Port got a hold of the wind in the second quarter the ball didn't go inside the Scorpions 50 for about ten minutes. The NQR boundary rider on Casey Radio said without a trace of irony, as the players trudged off for half-time, "that's one of the best halves of football we've ever seen". That was enough for me, I left and went shopping at DFO Moorabbin Airport instead. Much warmer, and I listened to most of the 3rd quarter on the way there anyway. Not sure how Miller (in #81 if you don't mind) snuck into the best - much less second best - unless he had an unreal last quarter because he was good in the first half but nothing special, certainly not better than Maric up front or McNamara down back. Football's #1 emo surely has to get a run next week, don't ask me who he dislodges but he'll be on suicide watch if he doesn't get a game soon.

Numerology for Idiots
Is it too cynical to get a #40 on my jumper next year, or an accurate reflection of the love story that stopped a nation? More importantly is being designated my favourite player going to kill his career like it has to everybody else who has ever had the distinction? The SME jumper is practically useless now that his career his going the toilet, and as much as I love Green he's more of a ladies man. The Jurrahcane is out because he stopped having a novelty number, and apart from the Philth I've never been one to support midfielders so Moloney is out. Petterd is an option, but what about going early on GAWN? The only problem is that they'll probably tease us and then make him change his number to 11 when Paul Johnson gets the arse.

More importantly aren't I getting a bit old to be indulging in this childlike footy jumper ritual? My belief is that you can wear a footy jumper until you're bald, then if you're not on the field it just looks weird.

Your suggestions on potential numbers in the comments or via Twitter (forget Gillard and Abbott, follow @demonblog).

Next Week
Sydney at the MCG on Sunday. I expect that they'll touch us up but god forbid we get off to a decent start you never know. Anything that involves not having to catch up from six goals behind would be nice. After being beaten by not disgraced by Sandilands, Jamar vs Mumford could be a one-on-one clash for the second All-Australian ruck position. See you there, I might go a bit Medallion Club and start finding other ways to amuse myself halfway through the match.