Monday, 10 August 2020

Sequel just as good as the original

Somewhere in Australia there's a lunatic doing the maths to see if we can use shorter quarters and reduced breaks to play a 34 game home and away season. I beg you to use all your influence to stamp this idea out. It's all well and good having games at 5pm on a Friday when you're a neutral, but my already strained nervous system can't cope with four day breaks. I hadn't even seen an All The Goals video before we were naming a new side for the next game. Thank god we won twice, I can see how this sort of schedule could send people over the edge.

Nor do I want a shorter season, 22 games in somewhere between 22 and 24 rounds works perfectly for me. In any event, the way this match turned out should be more than enough to convince anyone that the longer the break the better. We got going eventually, but at first it was a classic battle between our usual cavalcade of turnovers, rushed decisions and wacky forward entries against a team trying to play the Geelong dinky chippy game with the none of the required disposal skills.

It had all the elements of a dead-set confirmed slopfest, but for the second time in four days we kept things interesting by improving as the game went on. Again, a few top class players, superior fitness and a full bench won out, allowing us to scream away in the last quarter and win by plenty. The big finish would have kept a few neutrals watching. Lucky, otherwise they'd have missed The Bounce and would be absolutely kicking themselves now.

Due to the NQR start time of 6.10pm on a Sunday I was left watching all this on my phone, having to make all sorts of compromises and AFL fixture style alterations to make sure I didn't have to listen on the radio. I'd have to check the archives but I don't think I've heard the first quarter on the radio since picking the first date with my now wife over the start of a game against Freo in 2010 and I'm not inclined to start again now. Last quarters when the game is lost fine, but I'm too nervy for it when the game is in any way in the balance. Especially while driving. Even at a time where traffic is at a post-horse and cart low it's still an invitation to get excited and put my car into a river. To be comfortable I need to see what's happening, and if I can't oversee it from high in the stands, TV coverage is the next best thing.

My timing was impeccable, pulling up in the carpark a minute before the bounce. I don't know if this was really within the spirit of Stage 4 restrictions. There was permitted activity involved (and I've got a piece of paper to prove it so no point lagging me into the Corona Cops) but I was still waiting for Brett Sutton to pop up from the back seat and garrotte me with a face mask. I watched quarters 2 through 4 in more open spaces, while at the same time North was being enveloped into a cocoon of horror. Maybe there's something in these short turnarounds after all?

All's well that ended well, but there was plenty of frustration to work through before the latest spirit-lifting last quarter rampage. Given how well we've finished games this year I still struggle to comprehend how they (positive mention = we, negative mention = they) went within touching distance of one of history's great cockups against the Blues. The only possible explanation is that the players were still getting back into it after the break, otherwise the Darren Burgess method is definitely having an effect. The best thing about this is that if players can see results they might be more open to working hard over summer again and coming back for a real season with all the benefits we expected this year.

If we expected players to struggle off a four day break, I assume the umpires had done an SANFL game that afternoon because they were making it up as they went. Hard game to officiate, rules more complicated than a brain surgery manual etc... but who knows what game they were watching here. It worked in the favour of our quick disposal that 'handball' was defined as the hand contacting the ball (Richmond jokes on a postcard to the usual address) in any fashion, allowing us to reintroduce the flick pass. On the other hand, we were slow to adapt to the idea that you just burrow straight into an opponent with your head and win a free.

The tone of the evening was set with an unnecessary, administrative free at the opening bounce. This one went our way, many others did not, including a reversal on Harmes for the lightest of retaliation to being clobbered around the head in a marking contest. I know there's a war on niggle, but how about the slightest respect to the fact that they're playing a competitive game where even one wrong turn or bad landing can end a career. I can understand why vandenBerg was wrong Adelaide, even if it was right up my alley, but there was nothing in this worth using the "stamp this out" over.

Speaking of AVB, there was so little time between games that he turned up with his head pre-bandaged. I was hoping he'd loaded the headband with a weapon like an old school wrestler, but alas no. Maybe, like Viney he was suffering from a delayed concussion, a type that only came on at the start of the first quarter, because he gave away the second goal with the most ludicrous crossing of the mark since Jim Stynes. There I was in my car, all alone, yelling at somebody 1000km away like Basil Fawlty shouting "Is this a piece of your brain?" at the cranky old tart.

That left us two goals down and for the second week in a row, suckers were being handed an even break. As exclusively revealed last week we did our best to support Majak Daw's comeback tour, gifting him the first goal. It came from Lever trying an ill-advised one-handed mark mid-jostle, but after hanging shit on him last week for punching everything instead of trying to take the grab I can't complain too much. Our man went on to play one of his better games for us, while Daw never went close to another goal. Neither did 20 of his teammates, with one man accounting for their last four on his own.

Conversely, we had plenty of people getting into scoring positions. It was hard not to as North sprayed kicks like a busted wang. We were doing likewise in front of goal, in another wasteful start. Unlike Carlton and Freo we've never kicked one goal in a game in my lifetime, but you still always want to get on the board just to make sure. The way scoring is going we've probably only got one season before they engineer every game to be a 141-140 shootout so time's running out to be the first team to go all day without scoring a goal since the 1960s.

After missing one opportunity early, Pickett came to the rescue with one of his trademark quick shufflin' dance-steps and an exquisite snap. The highlight was how he ended up practically horizontal as he connected. The lowlight was surprise return Spargo not being rewarded for a textbook holding the ball tackle in the lead-up. Later, Petracca was taken to ground and somehow got away with putting ball on boot while lying on his back, which was rubbish but at least he disposed of it eventually. I'm sure there's some slow-motion Zapruder style footage showing that the North bloke got his hand to it just before he hit the ground (and if anyone's going to go out of their way to highlight it just to make a point it'll be siege mentality loving Roos fans).

It should be noted that the opportunity never even existed if The Weid didn't contest so strongly for a dump kick to the top of the square. Many weeks in the recent past that would have been chopped off and they would have gone the other way at warp speed. He had an average night with the set shots but still got two goals and provided a great target, especially when he was treating his opponent with contempt during the second quarter. We need to see him against a few more top defenders but he seems to relish being the #1 forward.

The old #1 forward, formerly the #1 defender, Tom McSizzle was thrown a lifeline by Gawn's injury, and free from the position that has tormented him for 18 months he played his best game in ages. He roamed hither and yon, took contested marks and pulled off some important tackles in the forward 50. It was a lot like the job he did in 2017 when Gawn was out. Hopefully this means he'll take to 2021 like 2018 and kick a shitload of goals.

In Maximum's absence, hitouts were again shown to mean fuck all and nothing. Turns out no team has won after having 10 or fewer since 1997. We had seven and sufferd no ill-effects. At least we acknowledge that they exist, according to the AFL website it's the stat that dare not speak its name.


About time this simplistic figure is binned. The design of the AFL's stats area is terrible (e.g pressing up and down arrows to sort a column instead of just clicking the bloody column), but respect for providing more stats to choose from. There is now a baffling (but exciting) array of ways to slice the pie, none of which will convince you that the humble hitout is worth getting excited over.

If your ruckman doesn't take huge marks, contest on the ground and kick like a smaller man shoot him and just play any old tall in the centre. Why even bother with a tall, I saw James Harmes create a goal from a centre bounce once. Gawn's value is about so much more than what he does in the middle.

I would not have any other ruckman, but you can have anyone jump at the bounce (when the umpire isn't skewing it off at right angles) as long as the midfielders can get to where it drops. The number of perfect tap > grab on the full > sprint towards the forward line moments is nowhere near high enough to justify all the tossing over raw hitout numbers. I have no idea if there's data to back it up but I'd argue that the result of a boundary throw-in is far more important to whether you score or not. Over to you Champion Data.

McDonald and Jackson did their job by contesting with Goldstein/Daw at stoppages and making themselves useful around the ground. Jackson even marked one of our traditional Jamar/Gawn "just boot it at the ruckman" kick-ins. It probably helped that North's campaign to keep the ball away from us meant there were bugger all stoppages around the ground, nullifying Goldstein's advantage where it might have caused us issues.

We remained wasteful in attack (the more things change...) but with North shanking kicks up and down the ground it looked like it was our game to lose. Foxtel may as well have told players to stay home and put on a digitally altered tape of Wednesday night.

This time when a player had ball in hand to the left of screen at the siren nobody caused it to be reversed via excessive manly shoving. I'd taken to much of the quarter, especially the wacky umpiring, with an air of calm, but it was lucky I was still in the car when we conceded deep in DemonTime or I'd have kicked something. The moment the clock hits 1:30 we should go into full time-wasting mode to avoid conceding.

Letting that goal in (seemingly) wasted what had been a decent fightback after conceding the first two. When I was considering face-planting my car horn and making a scene in public, how was I supposed to know that they'd only kick two more goals?

I was confident that we were the better side, but that doesn't mean much if you don't put the game away. Especially when you often struggle to convert for long periods like we do. I don't want to ever see that Geelong game again but that's a perfect example of how to have a side on the rack all day and nearly pay for not killing them off. If either team was going to run out a game better under these circumstances it was us, but that's no good if you're three goals down at the last change and spraying forward entries as if drunk.

A nine point deficit was troubling, but once again everything the game started to slowly turn in our favour after the break. Maybe, like an artificial intelligence bot, we're learning to adapt. Maybe North are just unreconstructed rubbish. Either way, after losing all but one game to them for the last 15 years I wasn't going to rest until they were dead, buried and six feet under.

In my supporting life we've lost to the Roos by under 10 points eight times. Imagine how hard we'd have had to work to lose this by under a goal if it had been played - as originally scheduled - in Hobart? North fans may disagree, but imagine how much worse the quality of the contest would have been if it was played in their hurricane wind conditions and not in a normal stadium? Go on about quality of the game all you like but the AFL doesn't do themselves any favours playing multiple matches every year on grounds that make the conditions at Casey Fields seem reasonable.

It took a few minutes to get warmed up, before the sort of Lever intercept and dash out of defence that we bought him for began a chain that ended in The Weid pissing off his opponent with the greatest of ease in the square. He displayed Big Forward Energy with two more big marks in the next few minutes. Both missed but North were on the run. The problem was that we were still losing, and one lucky kick or horror turnover could wipe out half a quarter of dominance.

Shame he missed the second one because it meant not getting full value for a heat-seeking missile Petracca tackle in the build-up. Or for Spargo continuing his unexpected rise from the dead to set the kick up perfectly for his lead. Charleston set up the Weid's second shot as well, forming the most unexpectedly successful duo since Phils Collins and Bailey.

You have to adjust for quality of opposition but there were not many passengers. The fringe were in their element against lowly opposition, not only was Spargo playing one of his best games, Sparrow and Rivers also staked their claim for more opportunities. I marginally preferred Sparrow's contribution, but Rivers has shown that he's far more than just a fluffer to try and keep Jackson happy.

Despite a performance that deserved a multiple goal lead, it took until the last five minutes to finally get in front. The lead that we wouldn't give back came from a Marty Hore-esque long-distance mortar by the much improved Brayshaw, who celebrated by imitating a golf swing. Ultimately I'd rather Viney, but you'd think Gus' manager was sitting at home doing calculations about how much money he can make shopping his client to other clubs. This season has demonstrated that he's got to play right in the guts, and us much as I'd like to have him in reserve I could understand if he wanted to go and be The Man somewhere else.

Then, obviously, because we'd held them scoreless for the entire quarter and just blown a perfectly good chance, we let them go down the other end and kick a goal with 50 seconds left. DemonTime detectors across the country blew a gasket, and probably hadn't returned to normal levels when we pulled off the unlikely scenario of reversing it. Not a vandenBerg style reverse (but who wasn't scanning to make sure he was nowhere the play when the mark was taken?), but a real life reply goal to restore the lead. After Weid's early set shots there was nothing certain about him kicking from 20 metres in front, but he capped a 50% genius, 50% wasteful half by getting full value for another genuine key position mark.

Credit also goes to Langdon, whose kick inside to Weid could not have been better weighted. He didn't get the chance to miss a goal of his own in comical fashion this week, but otherwise it was one of his better games for us. Tomlinson was less damaging but solid in defence, as we discovered the level of team that our recruits can comfortably beat. Now to do it against some good sides. Still not sure that's what I want Tomlinson doing forever but it's working for now.

Things were still too close for comfort, but when the North guy crocked his shoulder early in the third term I finally accepted that for once an opposition side losing a player would work for us. Still took us half the quarter to get a goal. As much as I thought we'd come home with a wet sail I don't think you could have done anything to convince me that we were going to end up scoring 92. Later, the Roos gave up like they'd had a pre-match address from Sally Robbins and party time erupted. But not yet. We also got an assist from their shambolic forward, including a bloke storming to 50 and deciding to neither a) take a shot, b) draw a defender, or c) kick to the advantage of a forward in space, torching a red-hot chance to level the scores.

If you believe North was a chance - and if you've ever watched Melbourne you'll have been worried that they'd out-run us with a man less on the bench - that botch was pivotal. We shot down the other end for Pickett to put a lovely kick on the chest of Forward Fritsch, roaming his customary position on the left side of the 50. I can see why Alan Richardson didn't name him as the player to kick for his life but he has a habit of kicking the ones you don't expect him to, creating an 11 point turnaround and finally giving us breathing space.

I'd have been upset to cave in from this position, but even more so after fill-in captain Melksham (as our bold decision to only name a captain and vice-captain backfired when both were injured in the same week) extended the margin to 16. I'd have chosen May as the fill-in. Captaining a wreck like Gold Coast should be the perfect apprenticeship for looking after us. Who cares if he got on the beers last year (when you still could) and yelled at Sam Frost, he just exudes passion. Never mind, the Milkshake is 1-0 so we've got nothing to complain about there.

Just when it looked like we'd killed them off I think I heard the 'Hello Melbourne' jingle in the background and North bounced straight out of the middle for the response. Unusually we responded to their response by doing our own turbo exit from the centre square, with Petracca (swoon) walking through several players and launching a long bomb from 50. Was there a shepherd on the line? Probably, but consider it payback for all the frees conceded by North players leading into us with their head. As the game went on we adapted and started doing it as well, ensuring that fans of both sides would be able to whinge about umpiring.

Appropriately, the goal was a joint production between Truck and Oliver, who were both incredible again. Oliver is very, very, very good but Petracca has genuine superstar qualities. Everyone got sick of trying to get Americans involved in footy when that famous bloke lost interest, but if you want to get the Yanks sliding off their seats again send them a package of Petracca's spelunking exploits. There is no confined space that he won't charge through, and there is practically nothing the opposition can do to stop him. They all know what's he's up to now and he still gets away with it. Every once in awhile he'll get caught, but when he gets the ball in traffic you're guaranteed that he'll either get through or fight to the death before being caught. Between them, he and the Burglar could be our [insert name of highly successful duo from another club] for years to come.

When it briefly looked like we'd bust out of the middle and kick another things were starting to get ridiculous, before more predictably the ball ended in the hands of a North forward inside 50. Now that time had ticked under 90 seconds I thought he was an absolute certainty but it came off the boot flatter than a shit carter's hat. With another North player going down to the rooms, this time after an eye poke (paging Dr. Jonathan Brown), it was time for the Darren Burgess short-breaks theory to come to life.

I remained confident that North didn't have enough in the tank to overhaul a 16 point margin but I've seen us give up more against less. Like Adelaide - again - we were certainly far enough in front to look like buffoons if we didn't win. And exactly like that game there was nothing to worry about, procession mode was about to be unleashed in South Australia for the second time in a week. Considering how many years we spent being humiliated in Adelaide I'd have been more likely to believe we'd play a home game against North there than deliver consecutive fourth quarter monsterings. This truly is the weirdest season.

When another North player was knocked goofy in a marking contest and we went down the other end for a weird, side-footed finish by Spargo you felt deep down (though you wouldn't dare say out loud) that we couldn't possibly lose. You could finally afford to go public when McDonald extended the margin to 28 straight after. I'd have blown up if we'd conceded the same holding the ball in defence, but it made up for some of the dross paid against us in the first half.

From there it was less Angus Brayshaw's golf swing and more Al Capone clobbering a man's head in with a baseball bat. Petracca continued to make life worth living, effortlessly spinning out of a tackle to set Hannan up with a bullet handball before we ended a five minute period of threatening to kick another by... err... kicking another.

Nothing against North, but after all the times we've been treated like second class citizens late in matches it's arousing to dominate an opposition under any circumstances. I don't care that they're the second worst team in the competition, at this point any victim will do. There was even time for Sparrow to get the first career goal reaction from teammates, who had understandably put Round 1, 2019 out of their minds and forgot that he kicked one on debut. To be fair a few things have gone on since.

The rout (and don't you love that word when we're the router instead of the routee?) was wrapped up with a ripper from the pocket by Oliver that looked a lot like one he did from the same place in 2017. Now that they've got no more use for the Eddie Betts pocket and we're practically a tenant club, any danger of naming that spot after him and mentioning it in every Adelaide Oval game whether he's playing or not?

Thank god we were 57 points in front with 30 seconds left, because after four quarters of stability (and the longest I've ever used the Kayo app without it crashing), the internet connection on my phone reverted to 1G. I'm don't mind being restricted to watching on a small screen but I have nightmares about it buffering in the dying seconds of a thriller. This is not a comment for comedy purposes, I have seriously had dreams where I'm watching a game and it goes into a permanent loading loop. Dream interpreters, please comment with your theories on what this means. It will make a welcome change from endlessly clicking 'report as spam' on submissions (so to speak) from porn sites.

We won. I enjoyed it. Now bring on the good teams. Then if we can't beat them, send in Sydney and Freo.

2020 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year 
5 - Christian Petracca
4 - Clayton Oliver
3 - Ed Langdon
2 - Angus Brayshaw
1 - Jake Lever

Serious apologies to Hibberd, McDonald and Weideman. Also Jackson, May, Pickett, Rivers and Sparrow.

Leaderboard 
In the still likely event of us not playing finals there's 40 points to play for, giving Austin Bradtke some hope of a Burgess Ball style rampant finish. That'll help sort out the Hilton, which is being severely hampered by the contenders being trapped in the apologies every week. Would also help if they were eligible for the automatic vote allowance you get just for being a midfielder.

No changes in the other awards. Petracca's lead is slowly expanding, May remains above water in the Seecamp, and as the only player even eligible, Gawn's seventh Stynes is in the bag. 

33 - Christian Petracca
24 - Clayton Oliver
21 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year), Jack Viney
11 - Steven May (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
8 - Ed Langdon
7 - Christian Salem
6 - Angus Brashaw, Michael Hibberd, Sam Weideman
2 - Jake Melksham
1 - Mitch Hannan, Jake Lever, Jay Lockhart, Kysaiah Pickett (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal), Trent Rivers (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year 
Welcome to a new clubhouse leader. And what more appropriate combination to deliver it than Clayton Oliver and Christian Petracca? Truck gets the credit for starting and finishing it, but without Oliver's fancy hands in the middle it dies before he gets to take a shot. If I was a North fan I'd be screaming about the block on the line, but I'm not so I can enjoy it immensely.

Context is also important. Viewing from a distance I'm sure we'd have run away with it anyway, but at the time there were serious concerns about wasting our dominance. So apologies to Pickett's first quarter dance masterclass and Oliver's mid-avalanche finish from the pockett, but Petracca is the man. I'm struggling for hotel themed weekly prizes so give the man an extra fluffy pillow or something.

Something that wouldn't have been as good the second time around would be an Eddie/Dwayne/Derm commentary team. I was secretly hoping for a replay of the 'Collingwood 'n Bollocks' show, but had to do with Anthony Hudson, somebody who takes to his role professionally, and with the bare minimum of Triple M style blokey nonsense.

With the ropey state of commentary on Foxtel, I can't understand how they haven't arranged a short-term loan deal for Jason Bennett. Instead, the poor bastard is left sitting on his couch with nothing to do while inferior options are being paid big money to squeeze commentary out of their ringpieces.

When Hudson was revealed to be sitting with Gerard Healy I expected another round of misery-laden special comments that make you want to contact every high-touch surface in the city but he must have been laid since the Brisbane game because by his standards he was positively brimming with life. Must have just got done pulling his strides up after watching NicNat in the early game.

I'd have loved some post-match analysis beyond the standard post-match player interview, but there was no time for that because Fox Footy had to go straight to The Bounce. Or more accurately, they had to, I closed the app so forcefully it almost gave me a finger injury. I've never been a song fanatic anyway, so unless somebody was going to liven it up by doing a Richmond and grabbing his teammate on the dick I'd rather do without it than watch comedy that Channel 31 would reject as too amateur.

Next Week
Farewell Fortress Adelaide, time to start winning in Queensland. We won't get a better opportunity against Collingwood than catching them on the four day break (presumably after pummelling Adelaide) with a shitload of injuries. Most of me is expecting a Queen's Birthday 2018 style back-from-the-dead bag by Mason Cox, but now that we've sidestepped Daw maybe there's less chance of be Kingsleyed. They should test us by bringing Brad Dick back. Or recruiting Jarrad Grant, who stitched us up at two different clubs and probably doesn't have anything else to do on Saturday.

It's never easy to make changes after a win, but let's not delude ourselves that walloping North means we can live without Viney and Gawn  Maybe Brayshaw got a better run in the middle without Jack there, but no offence Gus I know who I'm saving from the metaphorical burning building. Speaking of midfielders, I'm abandoning the vandWagon at high speed after recent indiscretions.

Also hard to shaft McDonald after such a solid performance, so after playing twice in a week I'll charitably opt to give Jackson a rest instead of running him into the ground. Part of me wants to see him leaping like an Atlantic salmon over Grundy but there'll be plenty of time for that in the future. For now, put the feet up and let the Maximum Sizzle team do the hard work. Where that leaves us for the next game if McDonald continues to do well I have no bloody idea. Nice problem to have though. Could even - whisper it quietly so you don't hurt my feelings - fatten up his trade value if it comes to that.

For once there's as many unlucky as lucky. I want more Bennell in my life, but Spargo exceeded all expectations so I'm giving him another go. And from a position of tactical ignorance I assume Harmes took on a bit of Lockhart's defensive stuff. Didn't look great with the ball but can't argue with the end result of North scoring chuff all after quarter time.

Jones was also halfway out the door when he didn't get a touch in the first term but came good just enough to delay his Thelma and Louise style roadtrip with Nev for another week. I'd also like him to have one more shot at Collingwood. Not sure why this is relevant - not like they've done anything specifically to him - but just feels appropriate. Also, I've been sitting on a Nathan Jonestown Massacre headline for about years and am still hoping for a chance to use it. 

IN: Viney, Gawn
OUT: Jackson (managed), vandenBerg (omit)
LUCKY: Harmes, Jones
UNLUCKY: Bennell, Lockhart

Even with the extra break we'd want to play better than either of the last two weeks to topple the Pies, but it's not as out of the question as it was a couple of weeks ago. I'm still factoring in a 9-11 place finish (not the 9/11 finish of 2017) so won't go troppo if we have a decent bash and lose. However, if we lie down at the first bounce like the Port game it will confirm us as downhill skiiers. Still, better to be skiing downhill that standing at the bottom of the mountain with thumbs up our arses like two weeks ago.

Final Thoughts
I can't remember a time when we have been more mid-table mediocre than right now. Pending the result of the Essendon/Gold Coast blockbuster on Wednesday, we're ninth, have beaten every shit and mid-table team put in front of us and lost to the top sides. Winning this means the Collingwood game isn't make-or-break, but it would be a great time to make a statement against a perceived contender. Either way, by feasting on the carcass of two strugglers we've come a long way from the point where it looked like Goodwin's hotel access card might stop working a couple of weeks ago.

Finally, I would like to announce that since this picture was published I have been grappling with my sexuality:

Thursday, 6 August 2020

Heat melts cube

For a side that has slipped on more banana peels than the Marx Brothers, playing a 0-9 team having greatest ever on-field crisis seemed like an excellent opportunity to throw off any lingering dignity and retake our position as the AFL's Comedy Club. This had all the elements of disaster, including an uncharacteristic mid-week blast from an otherwise low-key president, and a fake stat about Matthew Nicks playing to avoid the worst start of any coach in league history.

Purists were never going to line up for it, but between Adelaide's dismal form and us waving the white flag after 30 seconds against Port the game held perverse interest for the community. A midweek game between two abysmal sides (them currently, us historically) couldn't have been scheduled any better than at a time where everyone in metropolitan Melbourne was legally required to stay home. Surprised it wasn't transferred to free-to-air TV to raise the spirits of this otherwise rooted state.

There were a few ropey moments, but by the end all the laughs were on the Crows, who went to water in an almost identical fashion to the pre-season game at Casey. That was six months ago, back when only bat connoisseurs had anything to worry about, but seems a lifetime now. For all we've been through across four states since, our fourth quarter rampage was even more savage this time. The cast of characters is vastly different though, that day Brown, McSizzle and Jones kicked three goals each. In the real stuff they've got five in 10 games between them.

It's also difficult to comprehend that Wednesday night was the first time we'd played in front of a bigger crowd than the 3015 who went to Cranbourne that day. My review was called 'What could possibly go wrong from here', and though I was referring to football it turns out the answer was 'everything'. Almost everything anyway - one thing they can't pin on us is losing to a winless team several games clear at the bottom of the ladder. So that's something.

Like the replay of 2011 with a less tragic finish that we mooted last week, a week of crisis was followed by an unexpectedly substantial win against the Crows. Back then it was the fans engaging in mass hysteria, this time the President joined in. Fair enough too, it's about time our administration cracked it about something. They can't have a go at the AFL or we'll be relocated to Okinawa, so we have to spray our own. He complained about it in the gentlest language possible so I couldn't see anything to get upset about. The claim that we don't just hand out games to anyone was incompatible with some of the sides we've sent out in the past, but that's not his fault. If we'd lost it might have become an issue, but under those circumstances he wouldn't have been able to get a word in for all the other people queuing to hang shit on the coach.

Somehow a side that has never won fewer than seven games in a season or finished below 14th (I can't even imagine it) find themselves creatively bankrupt for the first time in their lives. For mine, the start of their demise wasn't the secret service torture camp, it was when they adopted an away jumper that looked like a $5 bottle of wine (get yours for just $109.99, if you're stupid). Compare to our clash strip, which brings to mind a line rackin', supermodel shaftin' Studio 54 party atmosphere. I know which I'd rather wear.

Better fashion choices aside, there was still a high degree of danger for us. One thing in our favour was that the Adelaide Oval holds no fear. The Crows could have lost every game for two years and I'd still have been convinced they'd beat us at Football Park, but we're now 5-4 at the Oval. We'll find out for sure on Sunday, but for now Fortress Adelaide looks like the new Fortress Sydney.

Our previous record at the ground was no comfort before the bounce. I spent the day torn between the idea that we should win and the prospect of looking like clowns if we lost. My greatest fear was giving the Crows a start that let them get their confidence up. After last week's lightning surrender, the last thing we needed was to lose heart early. Our midfield came good and practically won the game for us, but when Gawn got the first tap and it was immediately pounced on by Adelaide players I thought we were in for another night of disgrace. Fortunately, the Crows are no good, and soon the ball was camped at our end. Or as 'camped' as you can be when one hurried kick after another is repelled with the greatest of ease.

Just when it looked like we were to contribute to the intercept possession world record, Luke Jackson and his un-Melbournelike outer suburban mullet floated majestically across the back of a pack for a strong mark and goal. No matter what he does with his hair, it's better than the bird's nest that Oliver is cultivating but they can both get curly 1970s perms if they play like this every week.

It might be the week where our near four year Rising Star drought breaks, but when you consider what a nomination did to some of our best and brightest perhaps it's better if he putts away quietly in the background without anyone noticing. I liked his performance last week, I loved it this time. He didn't string it across four quarters but who cares? We're not used to efficiency but got great value for his five touches and Weideman's seven, not to mention both doing some lovely off the ball stuff that don't generate stats.

Appropriately, at the ground where Tom McSizzle launched his surprise, mid-career run as a key forward, the Weid/Jackson combination probably ended it without him. Can't guarantee they'll deliver every week but the promise is there. There's still an argument to rotate McDonald through if we need to stretch a team, but he's only had on really good game in a year and a half so it's hard to justify keeping him in the side as a forward.

Weid's contest on the ball now is exactly what Tom gave us two years ago, sadly for my fellow Sizzle fan club members it's time to look to the future. But I can't let it go, forget hotel quarantine, let's have a governmental inquiry into what went wrong with him. It can't just be the absence of Hogan, he kicked four goals in front of 90,000 people without him. I was ready to get back on the beers for the first time in years when he reached a 1.00 goal a game average now it will never happen. Not with us anyway. Assuming he doesn't want to be a spare parts player and we don't want him as a defender, I reckon he's still got a bit to offer at a club that doesn't kick into the forward 50 like drunks. I'd prefer he comes back and sticks it up me by kicking a couple of (relative) bags. We should arrange with Collingwood that he and Cox both play and it can be a tribute to the day they kicked 11 between them on Queen's Birthday.

Before and after Jackson's goal, Langdon (destined to find increasingly more tragic ways to miss goals until he's waited longer for one than Jamie Shanahan) and Viney both missed chances. We were threatening to put the game away in the opening minutes, just we did against Carlton. Remember killing them off never to come back?

Naturally, the result of this early domination was the Crows kicking a goal from one of their first inside 50s. I was already nervous about our backline, featuring Tomlinson as a ring-in defender, and the sight of Lever being caught one-on-one and hanging off his opponent like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver nearly caused hyperventilation. They all did pretty well in the end, especially my new BFF Steven May, but it was an inauspicious start.

You'll never catch me hypocritically moaning about fans getting upset about young players pissing off to other clubs for big money, so I was very disappointed at the reaction of Crows fans to Lever's return. Even this free kick - in all senses of the word - only got a smattering of boos. No placards, no banners, nobody dressed as money. Very disappointing. Maybe the 30,000 who were locked out were the ones who'd have made a proper ruckus. The best revenge is living well, but like us in 2012 if you can't do that the second best thing is to be really spiteful.

After our hot but wasteful start, the next few minutes of the Crows outplaying us not welcome. Suckers were being handed an even break, and even though we've run every game since Carlton out well the margin for error was getting frighteningly small. Not in real life, but in my damaged, paranoid mind we were hanging off the edge of the cliff by our fingernails.

With Gawn manfully battling injury, the midfield stepped up to do their bit. They learnt some lessons from when Petracca flayed them in pre-season, but that only opened the door for Viney and The Hamburglar to go troppo. Oliver especially, who stepped straight into the Designated Destroyer role. Imagine being the people who wanted to trade him after a couple of weeks of ropey kicking. Everyone's going to have ups and downs, he is still hands-down better value than anything you're going to get from the draft. It helps when you play rotten teams but in addition to his usual handball masterclass he also threw in a handful of Petracca-esque turbo sprints out of the pack, and there was nothing they could do to stop him.

Credit has to go to Gawn for playing on with the very painful sounding torn back muscle. Insert your own Nathan Jones 2013-2014-esque joke about it being caused by carrying people. It stopped him from dominating around the ground as much as he has in other games but under the circumstances it was a commendable performance. Also a welcome throwback to the days where players went down with mysterious issues like Diptheria.

If you believe that we've matured to the point where an injured player on the other side doesn't actually reduce our chances of winning, ANB murdering some innocent kid with a deadly sling tackle should have improved our odds. You don't want to win that way blah blah blah, but the Bullet will certainly pay a heavy price at the tribunal. He wasn't deliberately trying to bounce the guy's head off the ground like a basketball, but it was about as reckless as you're going to get.

As far as famous tackles in Melbourne/Adelaide games go it had much more skull-cracking potential than the infamous Trengove vs Dangerfield porcelain skull incident. What this had in comparison was Dermott Brereton, the commentary equivalent of a whirling dervish, saying "they make them with hard heads in Crib Point" as the victim was being carted off in a state of disarray just so you knew that he knew where Crib Point was. It was the usual self-indulgent rubbish that footy commentators love and broadcasters are too scared to rub out.

I trust that ultimately Dermott knows what he's talking about, but the bizarre tangents he goes on make him sound like he's slipped his moorings. He would probably have gone alright as a coach with a full week to explain himself to players but for the same waffling reasons I never tried 200 word match reviews he's not suited to special comments.

Given the right environment he'd be interesting to listen to, every week after On The Couch they should clear them out, dust the leftover misery off Healy's chair and just let Derm talk to the camera for an hour. Nobody to bounce gags off, just pure footy chat. The only human interaction will be a shock collar that the producer can set off if Derm deviates into off-colour anecdotes about 1980s Frankston. 'Derm' also told us how Darcy Fogarty knew what Lever would do from when they played together, even though he was drafted a month after Jake was traded to us. Maybe that prime time TV show isn't such a good idea.

Worryingly, even though we looked the better team we couldn't take advantage. It took a bit of classic slapstick comedy to get us going again, a Fritsch kick bounced towards the square, where Viney grabbed it on the bounce, leaving vandenBerg and an Adelaide defender to plow into each other like runaway trains while he walked it to the line.

When Weideman buttered up (I have no idea if I'm using this cliche in the correct context) from a marking contest and snapped another we had a two goal break. That was fine, but as any observant Melbourne fan understood, the clock was rapidly ticking towards 1:30, our version of two minutes to midnight on the Doomsday Clock.

Just when you thought you'd seen us concede every possible category of DemonTime goal, a unique fiasco occurred. We've used the last 90 seconds to concede one goal, multiple goals, and goals immediately after kicking one, now you can add ending the quarter with ball in hand directly in front of goal and not even having a shot. It wasn't even an ill-advised play on just as time ran out, but an outbreak of unnecessary niggle by AVB. The shove was hardly brutal, but it was reckless when his teammate was about to have a shot.

I don't know how late an umpire can pay a free (e.g. if you make like Derm and run through the opposition huddle surely they don't get to line up for a shot on goal from the wing), but given that they've basically got no power to do anything other than report after the siren, is it that hard to wait for the ball to cross the line before engaging in manly jostling?

Melksham would have been bleeding to have a goal taken away from him in a contract year. I'd have haemorrhaged if we'd lost a thriller. Losing a goal after the siren is about the only time you can realistically claim a missed chance changed the course of a game. I can't blame a four point loss on the guy who runs into an open goal three minutes into the first quarter, because his teammates had the rest of the term to make up for it. This was a yes/no proposition. Maybe the extra six points might have caused us to take our foot off the gas and Adelaide would have kicked the next 14 goals? Unlikely.

The highlight of the incident, the match, the season, and perhaps any time back to the mid-1980s was Brereton's offended reaction at vandenBerg's actions. Presented for the historical record are his verbatim comments on the incident.

"That's not something that's been going on for years that we're clamping down on. This has crept into the game. There's... and we can we talk about yesterday and if it's better or worse whatever. It's... it's... err... players didn't do it, there was a respect for players. You would do it.. err... would look at them, you bump them whatever. You didn't do stuff like that. This has crept into the game. You've got to have respect for your opposition. You don't have to denigrate them to this level."

And here's Dermott showing respect for Rayden Tallis' head:




It wouldn't last, but early in the second quarter it looked like we'd broken them. Within a minute Petracca stormed the 50 and missed, then some May - Fritsch - Weideman liquid football ended in The Weid's second. When Umpire Ross Emerson followed the grandest traditions of the Adelaide Oval and no-balled the Crows ruckman for not bending his arm enough, Jackson got his second and there was a premature sense of relief. As relieved as you can be without the Sullivan Line being breached.

The Crows let out one last gasp and briefly made it interesting again. After Jones missed a chance to pour further misery on them, they took advantage of a wank-handed attempted tackle in front of goal to get what could generously be described as 'the steadier'. They also got the next goal, but luckily for us three more shots missed, and left us ahead.

Down our end Unfortunate Ed Langdon again went within touching distance of a goal, standing all on his own in the pocket only for the kick to fall short and leave him grasping at it until defenders got involved. Langdon was again up and down, mixing some decent run with some farcical kick. At one stage he had a string of clangers that made you wonder whether he'd become aroused by Ross Lyon's sacking and wanted to see if he could put Goodwin away too. On this night the battle of the recruits was advantage Tomlinson.

Langdon's wayward kicking was what we expected, but what has happened to Christian Salem? His allegedly laser-like kicking is approaching late-career Travis Johnstone levels of parody. I know we can't be an easy team for defenders to kick to, and good luck finding a defender who has played for us in your lifetime that hasn't sprayed the ball like an out-of-control firehose at some point, but it's a bit galling when even the ones that are supposedly good kicks do it.

The result of these late quarter shenanigans was a flimsy five point lead that wasn't going to stand up to any serious scrutiny. You felt we'd win but leave it so close that it could be lost in a couple of minutes of madness. Think Geelong, but with an Adelaide version of Tomlinson that you've never heard of sinking the winning kick. I had a topical 'Interstate of Disaster' headline on a gentle heat just in case.

Topicality was not required, but we had to work hard to put them away. The Crows had clearly shot their bolt and were begging to be put out of their misery but the fatal blow was delayed by 20 minutes. They barely looked like scoring for the entire third quarter, before predictably almost getting one in the last 90 seconds. It didn't help that their malfunctioning attack would have got more out of Tex Perkins than Tex Walker. Without any decent targets to aim at they were reduced to going forward via the same route every time. It was like watching Melbourne.

Not surprisingly we got wise to this predictable kicking and chopped everything off. Couldn't put them away but got the only goal of the quarter, with Bennell convincing Forward Fritsch to give off an opportunity from an obscure angle on the boundary line so he could bend through a ripper. Harley didn't do much but he's a pretty safe bet when he does get the ball. We're yet to find out if his best years are behind him, but for the bargain price of nothing he'll be handy until his leg drops off.

We were starting to get on top, but when Eddie McGuire claimed that Brayshaw's kicking had been "great" I wanted Fox Footy to shut the broadcast down until he could take a workplace drug and alcohol test. It was a ridiculous statement considering Gus' disposal had been so bad during the first half that he missed throwing the ball back to a teammate, but maybe Eddie can see into the future because Brayshaw had a much-improved second half. How much of this was due to them playing him in the guts of the midfield where he belongs, and how much was down to the Crows losing the will to live I don't know, but I'm not complaining. More of this please.

A 12 point three quarter time lead was both enough to think we should win and enough that it would have been embarrassing to lose. Not quite Dean Bailey overturning a 50 point gap for his first win but close enough. It would have been a pisstake if they'd kicked on to win after barely scoring in the third quarter, but given that we've already held one team to 0.0 and nearly lost this year you couldn't rule it out.

For the first time in years we got a bad bounce at the start of the last quarter in a tight game, wiping a precious seconds from the already shortened clock and bringing us that slight bit closer to victory. For a couple of minutes the game remained in the balance before we activated procession mode. It came with an assist from an Adelaide player, who was so bedazzled by Oliver's blistering performance that he forget the rules of the game and blatantly grabbed him at a stoppage right in front of goal.

You'd have been mad to get comfortable, which is where Weideman's third and another to Melksham came in. With Adelaide's forward strategy reduced to Melbourne style panic kicks forward, the game was so firmly in our grasp that the only way you could imagine us conceding another goal was from somebody doing something stupid. Enter Jake Lever, who like Brayshaw had come good in the second half but did the most hamfisted spoil since Jayden Hunt, Round 23, 2017 (I'm not yet over it) and gifted them one that kept it interesting. Not interesting as to whether they'd come back and win, but whether we'd be satisfied with the margin or scathing of a missed opportunity to put them away.

We won by enough that you couldn't help but be happy. Not overjoyed, but something a bit more than satisfied. I don't know if a top team would have folded so violently, and some of our NQR play in the first half would have been punished by a halfway competent opposition, but the force of the landslide at the end made it worthwhile. You can only beat who they put in front of you. We got the appropriate margin, wiping out all the percentage losses from the Port game, leaving us level with the card at 100% with a game in hand.

The party time phase included Forward Fritsch thieving a mark (and probably a Rising Star) off Jackson befpre kicking the goal, a well-deserved second for Viney, and another junk time special to Fritsch from a beautiful pass by Petracca, allowing him to scoot into an unguarded goal. Poor old Adelaide (and isn't it nice to have a side you can legitimately look down at? Even better when it's one that has never known our pain) had given up. If the game went another four minutes have no doubt we've had got at least two more. In the famous words of Father Todd Unctuous,


The last quarter looked like a lot of games where we were rubbish and hung off the coattails of the opposition for a while but couldn't establish enough of a foothold to win. The tide will turn for them, and I bet a lot quicker than the decade it took us. I wish Matthew Nicks looked like more of a wanker so I could take pleasure in his woes, but he seems quite cuddly. Not sure you'd rub his bald head for good luck at the moment, but you'd certainly slap it Benny Hill style. As the Crows are no longer a threat to our league position, the staff of Demonblog.com wish him well for the rest of 2020.

So bad luck to the neutrals and media ghouls who were flogging themselves into a frenzy at the chance to chase Goodwin out by the weekend. Also, sucked in to the section of our fans that were secretly (not so secretly in some cases) hoping we'd go tits up so it would fuel their agenda. Whether he's the right man or not (and once we're in Stage 9 lockdown you'll have time to take in the full 225 page Demonland thread on the subject, after which you will never want to interact with a human again), no coach is getting sacked from inside a hub unless he drops his board shorts and takes a shit next to the hotel swimming pool.

I'm willing to discuss alternatives at the end of the season if it comes to that, but there's no point now. Besides, imagine knifing a coach with two seasons left on his contract (even if you can get away with only paying part of it), then going to the AFL cap in hand and asking for pandemic money. They would be well within their rights to deduct anything spent on payouts. I have many questions and concerns about where we're going, and am still not happy about Goodwin putting his foot on a man's couch in the To Hell and Back videos, but unless some seriously weird things happen across the next eight games I'm going to trust the process, even the bits I don't agree with, any decide which camp to join at the end of the year.

That's all to be debated in the future, for now we're winners again. I harbour doubts that it would translate to playing any half-decent side but you're only as good as your last match. Do it again next time and I may even crack a smile.

2020 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year 
5 - Clayton Oliver
4 - Jack Viney
3 - Sam Weideman
2 - Steven May
1 - Christian Petracca

Major apologies to Gawn, Hibberd, Jackson and second half Brayshaw.

Leaderboard 
With a minimum of 40 votes left to play for, the Jakovich race has realistically been reduced to the big four. Petracca holds a decent lead, but lost ground to Oliver and Viney. It is, as always, a midfielder's medal. No defender has gone close since McDonald 2014, and May will have to be content with an increased lead in the Seecamp. That's still a competitive race, with the hot/cold Salem and always warm Hibberd within one BOG of the lead.

The Hilton is also up in the air, the red-hottest race you'll ever see with the leaders on such low scores. Jackson was very unlucky not to join the party this week, and Sparrow could still take advantage of the 2020 rule changes (anyone with four games or less at the start of the season remains eligible) to nick it. Watch for some complete random like Austin Bradtke to play the last game, not be in the five worst of a thrashing and snatch the most remarkable victory in the history of the competition. Certainly a far cry for Kyle Cheney banking five votes on debut.

28 - Christian Petracca
21 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year), Jack Viney
20 - Clayton Oliver
11 - Steven May (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
7 - Christian Salem
6 - Michael Hibberd, Sam Weideman
5 - Ed Langdon
4 - Angus Brayshaw
2 - Jake Melksham
1 - Mitch Hannan, Jay Lockhart, Kysaiah Pickett (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal), Trent Rivers (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year 
Sure it was a tap-in from the line, but the vaudevillian lead-up to Viney's goal made it my favourite. I've run out of inspiration for novelty prizes so he'll just have to accept my good wishes. Salem against Gold Coast retains the clubhouse lead.

And now, the main event of the evening. For comedy value you'll never get a better commentary team than last night. It was like an unhinged Fringe Festival performance where neither audience nor performer knew what insanity was coming next.

Any scenario where David King is the voice of reason should instantly set off alarms that something is wrong. Likewise, when Adelaide director Mark Ricciuto lovingly cradling the plums of his old side doesn't even make the top three NQR performances you know you're onto something.

At least Ricciuto's concerns related to a club that was involved in the contest, unlike Eddie McGuire, whose only frame of reference involves Collingwood. It would be like putting me on commentary (and for anyone who says "as if you could do better", I'm willing to have a go) and getting four quarters of references to Darren Cuthbertson. You could almost forgive him the Weideman family chat that he's done every time he's ever seen Sam play, but it didn't stop there. Victoria Park, Jock McHale, Brian Taylor as a full-forward, any Pies Chat was possible. It got so ridiculous that I was expecting half-time to be 20 minutes of him reading from Pants: The Darren Millane Story.

I'd have thought dual-club player and premiership winner Heritier Lumumba would get a mention, but for some reason that wasn't amongst the talking points. Also failed to mention that Adelaide kicked as many goals as Essendon kicked in the 1990 Grand Final but did fit in the obligatory mention of teenage thuggery in the northern suburbs.

Like a footy version of Hard Quiz, every caller came ready to talk about a subject dear to their heart. Dwayne Russell played the hits by saying "if you've just joined us" before the first bounce and declaring everything "big", but was also required to provide expert opinion on any topic relating to South Australia. Not only did we get a potted history of Adelaide's private schools, but a pronunciation lesson for a Germanic surname. It was probably bloody riveting stuff if you lived in Hahndorf.

After a gag about the German bloke sounding like a classical musician, Dwayne actually said something half clever about us having a pair of Wagners. Eddie couldn't leave well enough alone and had to get the last word in, mystifyingly pointing out that there was also a Keays playing. I assume this meant the late singer and Demons man Jim Keays, but younger viewers must have been baffled.

On any other night the performances of Eddie or Dwayne would have taken three votes in the BT (Bollocks Talking) Medal, but everyone had to form an orderly queue behind Brereton, whose aforementioned waffle about Crib Point heads and football's gentlemanly past were enough to see him clear at the top of the leaderboard. The only surprise was that for the first time ever he went through an entire game with McGuire and neither mentioned drink cards.

I'm sure if we'd lost I wouldn't have enjoyed this performance as much, but under the circumstances, it was 5/5 and I definitely would listen again. They should put the highlights on Spotify so future generations can enjoy them.

P.S - The best commentator was the Melbourne fan who was yelling WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEID into the effects mic after his goals.

Next Week 
Final margin notwithstanding, we probably shouldn't dwell on this result for more than a day. Especially considering there's another game on Sunday. By the time I press publish the teams will probably be out.

Much to the united joy of 2007-2008 Caroline Wilson and Jeff Kennett, it's Melbourne vs North Melbourne in Queensland. [UPDATE - They can both get stuffed, we're actually playing in Adelaide]. Based on North being reasonably crap and us clambering back to mid-table mediocrity we should win, but who would dare make a solid prediction at the moment? Now that Ben Brown and his quarter-long run ups are finished for the year I sense the Majak Daw comeback tour ending in a seven goal extravaganza before he never kicks another in his life.

Had we lost I'd have wanted to go ballistic on the changes (because having nine players out worked well for Adelaide), but the problem with loading the shotgun and checking to see if the manufacture of white sheets is an essential service is that there's very few players in reserve that I'm excited to see. We'll have to give some randoms a go soon but the cupboard is seemingly bare.

Pickett is an obvious in but are there any other kids deserving of a game? Rivers needs another go at some stage but when was the last time you heard anything about Bedford, Chandler or Jordan? And Kyle Dunkley's ongoing existence is under question, I can't remember him being mentioned since the end of 2019.

And what about old moustache lips Preuss? If he can't get a go in Gawn's (eventual) absence he may as well pack up his tent and move on. If we go back to the 2017 plan and play McDonald in the ruck when Max is out you know it's over for him. We'll always have that magical goal at the SCG.

Speaking of the Sizzle, I know Goodwin has zero interest in him as a defender but I'd be having him there next week. Tomlinson did well last night but is that sustainable when we start playing good sides? I'd restore Tomlinson to the wing and play the Sizzle back. He's almost certain to have a three-way mid-air collision with Lever and May, and to do a turnover that makes people rip their hair out at the roots but the less times Lever has to play as a one-on-one defender the better. You can't deny we need a third string defender, so why go looking for one when there's somebody in the family who can do the job.

The sad news is that the trickle-down effect of these changes means there's no place for Jones. I feel like a traitor for saying it, but maybe it's time for him to put an arm around Nev, leave the hub and take an emotional road-trip back to Victoria. I see them in the back of a bus with Everybody's Talkin' playing like the end of Midnight Cowboy. In the gap between Round 1 and 2 I'd never have believed that I'd be writing both off before Hibberd, who continues to be very good.

If the short break means Bennell is rested I'll have Hannan back. Or Bedford. As it stands he is, along with Brown and Chandler, one of three players who have only played one career game for us. Considering we haven't had anyone finish on one since Michael Clark in 2002 - and think of the dozens of strugglers that takes in - you'd feel unlucky not to get another go. All three are presumably out of contract at the end of the year, and could be in deep trouble if list sizes are reduced.

IN: Pickett, T. McDonald
OUT: Neal-Bullen (susp), Jones (omit)
LUCKY: vandenBerg
UNLUCKY: Rivers

The Stat Shack (formerly known by a since-retired politically incorrect name, incorporating Pedants' Corner) 
If you're getting your historical information from the Sunday Footy Show then you're beyond help, but based almost entirely on one ludicrous claim by their Twitterist, the idea that 0-10 would give Matthew Nicks the worst start of any coach ever became popular.

Even if you're not an AFL Tables fanatic you'd have to instantly recognise how unlikely it was that since 'coaches' became an official thing in the early 1900s, nobody had ever lost more their first 10 games. Excluding coaches who did eventually win a game Nicks could pull the plug tomorrow morning and still be better than four other coaches, including Alan McConnell (0-11 at Fitzroy over two caretaker stints), Vic Brown (0-13 at University) and Bert Sutton (0-18 at Hawthorn).

The king of the stat remains Kevin Murray, until a few weeks ago also held the most losses as a player. He was in charge of 34 games at Fitzroy for 34 losses. One week he went to play for Victoria and the caretaker coach delivered a win. You'd feel slighted.

Final Thoughts
It is, as always, the hope that kills you. As comfortable as I'll be with a competitive finish to the year that lands us 10th, I couldn't help but notice that if we won our game in hand we'd be in the eight.

I wasn't keen enough to put together a bootleg ladder predictor based on who teams are yet to play but am fairly certain that by the time we play again Port, Brisbane, Richmond, St Kilda (!!!) and West Coast will be all but certainties. Below them Geelong, GWS, Footscray, Essendon, Collingwood and Gold Coast play each other plenty of times so there's plenty of scope for us to do well for the rest of the season and still miss out. That would probably be a fair indication of where we're at, but if a Bradbury Plan should happen to develop I'll be ready to sign my name in blood to join in.

Friday, 31 July 2020

Festival of Fist

Like references to 'Boomers' and 'Karens', I've already had enough 'Festival of Footy'. One day in and there hasn't been a worse carnival since the one where the Ferris wheel collapsed.

Never thought I'd say it but you can't play Hawthorn every week. From the dizzying heights of kicking a former superpower on their way down here we are two weeks later, thrashed by a good but flaky side, with our percentage burnt to a crisp. Normal service has resumed, Demonblog.com (trading as Demonblog) apologises for any heightened expectations.

Losing to the better sides in the competition is par for the course, but restricting the margin in our worst performances (and nearly winning one of them) a wholly uncompetitive performance like this still came as a shock. When you follow Melbourne the phrase 'tits up' often springs to mind, but this was as comprehensive a smothering as you'll get in the AFL's no scoring era. 

It was a fitting tribute to the last time we played a game on July 30 and lost by 186 points. Don't let anyone tell you we haven't taken some steps forward in the last decade. Mind you, if that's what they served up to celebrate nine years since our (second) darkest day I hate to think what we'd get next year... Best ask for a late July bye now. If we keep playing like this the fax might need to go to the Eastern District League.

Yes, you can forget the warm and fuzzy feelings from winning two in a row, we're back in the toilet. Not quite swirling around the S-Bend yet, but the fickle finger of fate is poised on the full flush button and ready to finish us off. I feel robbed blind by taking comfort out of the Hawthorn win. Still, you can't say I didn't warn you - that post said the good times "may only last two weeks", and at the end of the second week the slow-moving juggernaut has been left teetering on the edge of the cliff like The Italian Job. "I've got an idea" said Michael Caine. I'm glad he did, we just merrily went to our death from first bounce to last.

I won't say we've never seen such an exhibition of botched disposal, insane decision making, and players asking "can't somebody else do it?" because this is Melbourne, but it was still gruesome viewing. We didn't even get the consolation of Jack Watts (not on their injury list, can we have him back?) flattening us Round 1, 2019 style. It was just an all-round, Gerard Healy commentary level bucket of misery. Enough to make you get your My Chemical Romance albums out and have a little cry.

It wasn't long after the first bounce that the only festival the game resembled was the burnin', lootin' and worse extravaganza of Woodstock 99. Like the comparisons between that and the original it was OUT: Peace and Love, IN: Break Stuff. Was there something about Sydney that gave us life, or were those two weeks a blip in the road in our record of being the worst travellers since the Fakawi tribe.

Considering all the desperate comebacks we've launched over the years I rarely trust that you can tell how a game will end after five minutes, but it was certainly true in this case. We were being beaten at the clearances, and in that mythical land referred to as 'the outside' and while we got the ball forwards lots there was no reward because every kick was panic bombed slurry that Inspector Gadget would have struggled to mark. Down the other end, Port had a goal from a strong mark within a minute, from a third game forward who went on to kick three and all but guarantee another Rising Star nomination against us.

I remember when we used to take marks inside 50. Not just two weeks ago, but two years ago, when Hogan and McDonald at least grabbed a percentage of the several dozen random wonky kicks aimed at them from the midfield. You can argue the wisdom of chucking Hogan but given his luck he'd probably have been eaten by a shark in the hub hotel swimming pool and we'd probably be in the same position. I'm more concerned about McDonald, who has gone from a hard-running, decent-marking, accurate-kicking forward to somebody who looks like he's running on an ill-fitting prosthetic leg. It's nothing new, he's been like this for a year. 12 months ago I thought it was an injury, now I'm completely baffled. 

It would be great if journalists stopped wasting their time asking niche questions about Angus Brayshaw's time on ground and concentrate on how you go from kicking more than two goals a game in a finals year to being not much more useful than when we played Troy Davis at full forward for the laughs. I'm probably the biggest Sizzle fan on the market but even I can't justify playing him forward anymore. He's either physically or mentally shot, and while Jackson isn't getting big numbers he's doing well when he does touch the ball so we may as well give him a few games together. In a season where the reserves have been replaced by multi-club scratch matches it's probably better for his development. 

Personally, I'd put McDonald back into defence. Take your pick of whether that bumps out his brother, whose revival was short-lived, or more controversially Lever. I'm not writing Lever off forever but has he played a good game since he came back from the knee injury? Plenty of ok performances and the odd important intervention (e.g. late against Gold Coast) but I feel like he could do with what would politely be described as 'a rest'. And a shave. I don't expect this to be a popular view, especially from people who base their opinions entirely off the stats, but he doesn't offer any of the marking or attacking power of old McDonald (turnovers blah blah blah, I'm prepared to argue that the good outweighed the bad) or intercept anything that's within miles of an opponent. Confidence is low.

Whether or not you think the price was right, May is easily our best defender. Which was like being the best pilot on a plummeting plane, but still... The only thing I can't take is his kick-ins. Not sure if player or system but I think we've overplayed the boot it long to Gawn tactic, the moment May went off the line in the square they knew exactly where it was going and got there en masse to disrupt the mark. 

Surely opposition kick-ins are one of the first things teams scout, you can't just keep doing the same thing. We've been shithouse at kicking in for about 19 of the last 20 years but it's just the same thing over and over again, until eventually he gets frustrated and does a low percentage bomb into the middle. Has the old 30 metre kick to a free player in the centre of the 50 been abolished by opposition tactics? Seems it's either ultra-short kicks into the pocket or long heaves that you expect to come straight back. And last night they did, many times.

For a while the inside 50s - still the most pointless statistic ever invented - were even. There's rarely been a better example of why the figure should never be taken seriously. Ours were a product of total disarray, while they were finding one (or more) on ones and aiming at them accordingly. Then there were the mismatches and players standing miles on their own.

There was next to nothing enjoyable about spending Thursday night on this. After Port kicked the first two I tried to keep calm and think of our recent comebacks from dreadful starts but when they got the third I contemplated turning over to SBS World Movies, even they'd have had less explicit rooting. 

A Mr. G. Lyon of South Melbourne must read this page, because he correctly identified it by one of our key phrases, labelling the first half "shambolic". Worryingly, the man who took full responsibility for appointing the worst coach in the history of our club went on to say he wished he could "go and do something about it". On-field lessons much appreciated. Off-field not so much. 

Scoring was the only consolation, oddly enough through Lockhart, who somehow ended up as the designated give-off kicker from outside 50. For defenders having long shots in the state of Queensland it was a fair way down from Marty Hore against Gold Coast. Until then we were threatening to have an inside 50 conversion rate divisible by zero.

There was already next to no chance of coming back to win, but Oliver hitting the post after the siren denied us any hope of clawing our way back into it. Are there any quarter hour ratings breakdowns for Australian TV? I'd love to see the spectacular plunge as people decided to go to bed. Our chances were further diminished by conceding the first three goals of the second quarter. It was more Blockbuster Video than Blockbuster Comeback. Now we could barely get our hands on the ball, and when we did it was usually turned over in a blind panic with all the poise of 18 men trying to escape a natural disaster. They got a couple of soft goals from the umpires but if you think that made all the difference you may be a no-eyed fan. 

Picking on Gawn while he's trying to drag this team along is as bad as targeting Jones in 2013, but the undoubted highlight of our awful attacking was him kicking to a nil on two in the pocket. The defenders were so confused by this strange tactical move that they crashed into each other trying to get it. We still didn't score. 

Halfway through the second quarter you just wanted to get one token goal to prove we could. If it was a long way from walking goals in against Hawthorn, the distance between this and our best attacking football two seasons ago could only be measured in light years. I've got no time in my life for watching footy outside of current season games, but at some stage I have to watch that Gold Coast game where we had 83 inside 50s and scored 146 points. It can't be as simple as just not having Hogan there.

Trying three talls was a noble experiment, though strange from a coach who just a few weeks ago was bemoaning how his forwards hadn't played much together, but it went nowhere. Weideman had a bash without much success until the second half, and Jackson did a few nice things early then disappeared off the face of the earth. Hannan and Fritsch meh, Melksham ok at best. I'm not surprised we scored bugger all.

I had high hopes for a McDonald revival when he pulled off a ripping contested mark against two defenders in the pocket. He went on to sneak it through for a point, leaving us on a measly three behinds with time ticking towards a Prelim 2018 style goalless half of shame. There was a lot of that game in this one, albeit with far less on the line. A shithouse attack, an outmatched defence, a losing midfield, and players who looked like they'd plowed into the wall at top speed. This was better because I didn't waste money flying across the country to watch it.

Despite the margin we weren't much good last week, but you felt like they wanted to be there. By all indicators this was a spirit free outing. Lyon floated some theory about them discussing revenge for the 2019 Port loss, and if that was part of the motivation then I can understand why we did so badly. Or was there hub controversy? Minibar privileges revoked? Caddyshack style turd in the pool scare? Kids not allowed to go to Sea World? I can't believe they didn't turn up ready to go, but the moment the opposition came out swinging they folded like an umbrella and went through the motions for the rest of the night. May's honesty in saying he was "pissed off" at the end is appreciated but it's nothing we haven't heard after almost every loss for years except when Sam Blease mysteriously said that he wanted to "crack in and have a crack."

Even Fremantle blundered their way to two goals in a hurricane the other night, we were staring down the barrel of a humiliatingly low score. To add to the fun Oliver tried to escape losing to Adelaide next week by elbowing somebody in the head. Like most of our efforts it was half-hearted and he'll likely just be fined.

Port made mockery of our struggles to kick a goal by interrupting their time-wasting dink in the dying minutes to add a sixth without response. That it came from a 50 caused by contact softer than a Melbourne attempted tackle was no comfort. Save your anti-umpire sprays for when it really costs us a game, not when it was the cherry on top of an already steaming turd.

With any semblance of a contest erased, the commentators tried to keep neutrals watching beyond half time by making excuses about our four day break, as if Port's extra day gave them some sort of superhuman advantage. You'd have tried to be sympathetic to this theory if we hadn't been rubbish from the opening seconds. It's not like they were saying this after we'd failed to score in the last quarter (like, say, the last time we played Port) or fallen over dead to blow a lead. Even in those two wonderful years where Essendon collapsed against us after the short break post-Anzac Day they were in it for a half before failing.

The best bit about trying to excuse us for being tired was that we'd just been sent a propaganda video about Darren Burgess' experience with short turnarounds in the Premier League. Must have wished he was back in England watching this. Given that we've finished shortened games pretty well, you have to wonder how badly his fitness campaign has been shafted by the reduced quarters? I wonder if players are going to be as willing to smash themselves and do it all again over summer this year? You can be sure the To Hell and Back cameras won't be returning, at least not under that name. Go for accuracy and call this year's documentary Here Comes More of the Same Old Shit.

It was far from his best night, but Petracca was still there when we needed him, kicking a goal that didn't do anything for our chances of winning but meant we didn't have to worry about finishing on 0.6.6. In an almost perfect merger of classic Melbourne traits we were a May fingertip from giving it straight back with 15 seconds left in DemonTime.

The nine year anniversary of 186 (half time margin - 114) was a timely reminder that things can always be worse, but I still considered our chances of winding back a 33 point deficit on a par with the outbreak of world peace. Much like the last quarter against Brisbane, I just wanted to avoid joining our lowest scores since 1980. You could argue that the reduced playing time meant it didn't count, I'd ask if you're really convinced we'd have scored enough in 20 minutes to make a difference.

Once Channel 7 viewers had sat through their usual half time drivel it was back to the regulation drivel, with Port kicking the first goal after the break. Sure, the man we overlooked for hot prospect Jimmy Toumpas dived headfirst into a tackle and should never have got the free but let's be honest, they'd have found a way to kick one anyway. I was trying to look at things philosophically, but when Lever jumped for an uncontested mark and punched it instead I was ready to wind back all the kind words of the last few weeks, sack everybody and play Charlie Spargo at full back. Tanking doesn't exist if there are no draft picks involved. I may have said something rash about preferring Oscar to Lever at this point. My lawyers have instructed me to make it clear that I don't want either.

With a couple of minutes left we were not only 10 goals behind, but still inside our all-time top 10 lowest totals, level with a 1.5.11 debacle against Collingwood in 1898. Back then players worked as butchers, bakers and candlestick makers for five days and had a kick on the weekend for the love of the game, now we pay the list a combined $13 million and things aren't much better. And 1898 fans got a flag two years later, I'll die waiting.

I'm sure that even late in the 19th century two defenders didn't standing right in front of goal, watch a ball land at their feet, think the other guy was going to do something about it, and watch the opposition kick a goal. Comedy club stuff. There's not much to laugh about at the moment but we were doing our best to keep the nation's spirits up.

In the middle of this relentless sadness, I'd like to pay tribute to the heroic diving save by Hibberd that saved another goal. Would have been easy to give up under the circumstances but it was a great effort. Like they name an All Australian team to play nobody, he should be given the token role of Australia's 2020 International Rules goalkeeper. Naturally, we proceeded to let in the replacement not long after. No idea how it happened, all their goals started to bleed into each other eventually.

Out of literally nowhere we got the next two, for what use that was. Certainly stuffed up a Spinal Tap "these go to 11" gag I was working on. First Melksham, then an uncharacteristically Harlem Globetrotter-esque end-to-end job. The made the score 'Brilliant Play' 1, 'Farce/Shambles' 52. Which was roughly the same margin we were losing by. It's hard to believe we were so close given how badly they'd outplayed us. It didn't even end as the biggest thrashing of the year, so we've got that to be grateful for.

Much to the joy of Dazzling Darren, we had another (relatively) solid last quarter and restricted the damage to 51. This was only a positive in the sense that it looked like we were going to lose by the treble at one stage. The two quick goals carried us above our pair of 2.8.20s as lowest score since 1980, and against all odds we almost save me a Demonwiki edit and escaped the top 10 entirely.  But not quite. I doubt Jake Milkshake was thinking about getting the score above 34 when he kicked after the siren, and as the only person outside the gambling community with an interest I was sadder about him missing than anything else we'd done since the opening minutes of the second quarter. 

With a disclaimer about shorter quarters this was our outright 10th lowest score in the last 40 years. There's no consolation in that we scored less in normal length quarters four times across 2013 and 2014, but if we got through that era without pouring varnish into our eyes then we'll get through the mid-table mediocrity years. Or at least I think that's where we're at, the next two games will be instructive.

We can now be absolutely sure there's no need to smuggle ourselves into Queensland on a freight train for an October Grand Final, but despite rapid burnout (can you tell?) I can't walk away so I'll just have to keep going. Nathan Jones isn't in our next premiership side, but at this rate neither are his grandkids. All I can do is remember that one day all these players and coaches will be gone and we'll still be here, patiently waiting for any sort of ongoing success. I don't need a time machine to give you a spoiler from the future - it's not coming.

P.S - Naturally the TV that rodgered me rigid when I was trying to watch a win offered a 100% crystal clear picture all night 

2020 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year 
Almost tempted to bring back the 186 votes and give Jordie McKenzie five as he genuinely deserved them more than almost anyone in this game.

5 - Steven May
4 - Christian Petracca
3 - Clayton Oliver
2 - Christian Salem
1 - Jay Lockhart

Apologies to Langdon, Gawn and Hibberd, who were in the mix for the last spot.

Leaderboard 
It's advantage Truck, who takes advantage of a low quality field to extend his lead on Maximum. If the season gets through the full 17 games without Queensland becoming a plague state there are 45 points left to award, so the Jakovich is still literally anyone's to win. In reality, you can't see the top four all losing enough votes to catch them.

May goes in front of the Seecamp, fittingly in a game where we were poleaxed, while the Hilton is still a competition desperately in need of some razzle dazzle.

27 - Christian Petracca
21 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
17 - Jack Viney
15 - Clayton Oliver
9 - Steven May (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
7 - Christian Salem
6 - Michael Hibberd
5 - Ed Langdon
4 - Angus Brayshaw
3 - Sam Weideman
2 - Jake Melksham
1 - Mitch Hannan, Jay Lockhart, Kysaiah Pickett (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal), Trent Rivers (JOINT LEADER: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year 
Feels sarcastic awarding this under the circumstances, but I'll go with the opener by Petracca and be thankful that it wasn't also the closer. There will be no weekly prize.



Brian Taylor thought it pertinent to comment that we've never played Port at the Gabba before. Brian Taylor is an idiot. We pay a lot of players more money than they deserve but there's a minimum salary cap involved, what's Channel 7's excuse? Like Jordan Gysberts' dual Rising Star nominations, the broken clock showed the right time once when he said Gee God Boy Wow and it's all been downhill since.

Also, reader Tim proves that WhatsApp can be used for something other than planning acts of terrorism and white-anting your political opponents by pointing out some prime cut Channel 7 nonsense:
Meanwhile, what about owner of a punchable face Tom Browne doing a pre-prepared Brayshaw time on ground question on the night he played 78%? Goodwin was sat there looking like he wanted to self-harm so it was nice that there was somebody there he could treat like an idiot. He later mentioned connection, much to the joy of a journalist who had tried to get him to say the line Bart Simpson style a few questions earlier.
 
Next Week 
Appropriately for an Adelaide/North game, I wouldn't have gone for the Crows more since the 1998 Grand Final. I doubt Matthew Nicks will have the tape out as motivation, but in 2007 we lost our first nine then beat the Crows so next week could be their belated revenge. 

Part of me says you don't take a risk with widespread changes in the week before you play a bottom side. Another says you've got to make some sort of statement after a stale piss performance, no matter how token. The rest thinks we don't have much in reserve anyway so we may as well settle on the best 22 and get to work on ironing out the bumps.

I've squibbed it and landed somewhere in the middle. AVB replaces Brayshaw, Tom McSizzle goes back into defence for Lever and Tomlinson goes onto the wing. If we lose next week then there may not be enough players on the list, including Austin Bradtke and The Wagnii, to replace all the players I'll want to drop. Having said all that, I'm into the Carnival of Hate possibilities of Lever playing the Crows in Adelaide for the first time and recognise that there is no chance in hell that he'll actually be left out so it's irrelevant.

IN: Tomlinson, vandenBerg (+ Neal-Bullen if Oliver is suspended)
OUT: Brayshaw, Lever (omit)
LUCKY: Hannan, Jackson, Jones, The Sizzle Brothers, Pickett. Oliver will also be lucky if he doesn't get rubbed out.
UNLUCKY: Every fit man on the list. And Mitch Brown, who is firming as a Phil Egan style one game import.

If we'd lost to Port in a competitive contest I'd be expecting to stomp the Crows into dust, now I'm bracing for disappointment. Even though it's on their ground we should still win, but everything depends on their reaction to this fiasco. Like Gold Coast 2019, Adelaide might not be winning but they're not being thrashed either so a high chance of a boilover if we don't turn up ready to kill. And if that happens Goodwin will be as popular as a fart in an elevator again. He's still not going to be sacked though, you can stop fantasising about that. There's a movement to get Ross Lyon, at which point I'll probably get RSI updating that lowest scores list.

Final Thoughts
There's a bit of pandemic adjusted 2011 about this season. None of the off-field tension (as far as I know but feel free to leak if you know otherwise), but the on-field is just as up and down. I doubt it'll end in a 31 goal loss and the general tearing asunder of the club but you never know. If we do have to plunge into crisis again - and really, it shouldn't get to that - could they do it right this time and make the explosion so spectacular that the club folds and frees up my time. Welcome back desolation.

Monday, 27 July 2020

A trip down misery lane

Farewell, Fortress Sydney, as the world's zaniest season sees us relocated to Queensland for a month. Which is not the worst place you could be at the moment, except for the bit where they expected us to venture from Brisbane to Adelaide to Brisbane to Hobart to Brisbane in about eight days like Abel bloody Tasman.

Like most things relating to the 2020 fixture that idea lasted about 24 hours, until Tasmanian Premier [name to be supplied] did us a solid and told the AFL they couldn't come in. With the number of fixture switches, alterations, and outright cancellations so far who knows what's next. By the time you read this, we'll probably be playing Port on a disputed island in the South China Sea.

If you count the times we flogged games to the Gabba for quick cash it's not our first stint as a Queensland based club. Though that was only for a week at a time as we tried to avoid trading while insolvent, this is tilting towards Jeff Kennett's 2009 plan of relocating us there lock, stock and barrel. We'll go, but we're taking the rest of the competition with us. I think we'll all be back in Victoria by the start of 2021, but the way the situation in this state is going it's hard to have absolute faith. After making a Trump-esque pandemic prediction in the Carlton game post I won't believe we're safe until the vaccine needle is hanging from my arm and I've got a 5G powered microchip upside the head.

Like most of our other interstate home games we lost, but not without nearly pulling off another brave but entirely undeserved come-from-behind victory. It's positive that we were nowhere near as second rate as the Geelong game, but ultimately we've had a combined zero points from both and sit 13th. I'm not going to talk down our performance against a top team (strange, my understanding is that you make the finals for the first time in years, have everyone go to surgery and blame that for spiralling down the ladder), but it's frustrating that our Stranglewank fetish is still costing us games. Blockbusting comebacks are great, but like a real deal SW only happy endings are magic, everything else leaves you dead. Or so I've been told.

I don't know how we got so close. Sometimes a few minutes of madness puts you five goals down and you play well enough for the next three quarters that you can imagine winning. In this case we were never better than ok, with a handful of heroic performances not enough against a side that was way better drilled and had a winning habit of being in just the right place for every miskick and zany bounce. They deserved to win, and justice was served. All it gave me was confidence that we'd have beaten most teams around our level and should run rampant over lesser sides. Of course, this is Melbourne so you can almost bank season imploding losses to North and Adelaide.

Like Geelong, you could tell we were in trouble early but got to quarter time in a neutral position. Either time this could have offered the chance to reset and go at them full barrel for the next three quarters, instead we plodded along until the last term, with Gawn dominating the taps for little reward and the forward line butchering chances at an industrial rate.

If it was hard to find somebody to leave out of the apologies last week this was almost the reverse, everyone had a decent bash and the premium players did premium player things but as a whole we were clearly second-best. Which makes it even more baffling that we could (and should) have had a shot to win in the last minute. Never mind, if the earlier trends continued it would have gone across the face and out on the full. Would have been nice to have our destiny in our own buttery fingers.

Again, like Geelong, we nearly won against the odds, but I still found myself strangely unmoved at the siren. This might have had something to do with the four quarters of relentless melancholy from special comments expert Gerard Misery, who treated the whole experience like he was being forced to participate at gunpoint. I don't dispute that he knows what he's talking about, but like Dermott Brereton can't explain anything in snappy terms, Gerard can't do it without sounding like he's having the worst day of his life. The only time he gives off any joy of life is when he's soiling his shorts over a mid-level Nic Nat highlight.

He may be the person in footy media I'd least like to be stuck in a lift with. BT would talk tremendous shite, Dwayne would shred his throat screeching a running commentary of the emergency service response ("he could be the firestopper" etc...), but Healy just seems like the sort of disagreeable individual that would want to have an in-depth discussion about wearing masks at Bunnings. For legal reasons I'm sure he's a fine, upstanding citizen that uses his left and right turn indicators but his special comments are next level dreary. If Joy Division is music to kill yourself to, this is the commentary equivalent. They should have flashed the number for Lifeline up on screen every time he spoke. It's no coincidence that his greatest moment was an accident.

Even with Gawn competing against clearly outmatched ruckmen, it was clear early that the Lions had our measure at the stoppages. This is never good news for us, the team that bet their house on contested footy in 2019 and ended up living in a cardboard box. At one stage the midfield was being dominated so handily around the stoppages that they were in danger of somebody sarcastically calling them 'much-vaunted'. Viney and Oliver recovered to have a massive bash but it was nothing like the unadulterated, X-rated spectacle of last week.

We didn't help ourselves by torching some golden chances, including Weideman, whose life force had visibly seeped away by the time he missed three opportunities. I don't know if a forward's confidence coming from their first shot is scientifically proven but it sure set the tone, kicking out on the full from 30 metres. I'm not going to turn on him, he still competed well and did enough to have the three shots on goal. Try again next time. If things don't go well for the rest of the year he'll 100% be requesting a trade to Sydney or GWS so he can take advantage of New South Wales atmosphere more often.

Even with half our side well below their best, and our contested footy superpower successfully dulled we somehow got to quarter time level. It took two opportunistic goals, first to Melksham (landing me the Demon Army first goalkicker competition thank you very much), then to Fritsch. They were well taken goals from nowhere, Brisbane wasn't going to let us walk them in from the line like Hawthorn, and no team is going to win a game solely on set shots. Especially a team that kicks inside 50 like an ice addict who hasn't slept for three days.

The 14 point margin at half time felt a lot more realistic. We started the second quarter well, with Gawn taking advantage of a 50 to hit a bullet pass to Forward Fritsch, but Brisbane took over after that. The triers were trying but we weren't even going to close to scoring while the Lions kicked goals out of their arses at the other end. All the sort of stuff we were doing last week against a crisis club but couldn't recreate against a contender. This is pretty much how I expected this season to turn out, even before it was slashed to a 17 game traveling circus. As long as we get through the must-wins without dropping our bundle it should keep us in the mix until the end.

To get anywhere this year, and now that we're losing again my interest has dipped appropriately, we need to get the fringe firing. After a fortnight leading the McSizzle family Oscar struggled, Hannan, Bennell, Lever, Harmes and Jones were meh. The Weid kicked like Wood. May (and what about the moment where he was running at a Brisbane player on the boundary line in the first quarter, who didn't think that was going to end in a five week ban?), Langdon and Salem balanced the good with the occasional howler. Pickett and Jackson were ok the few times they did get it. Jetta did an alright job defensively without adding anything to our ball movement other than a farcial deliberate. Lockhart was in the same boat (without the deliberate) when he was on zero touches at quarter time but recovered to play his best game as a defender yet.

There weren't many passengers, but the gap between our best and our 11th best was far greater than that between 11th and 22nd. Speaking of players down on form, I don't understand the obsession of commentators about how much time Brayshaw spends off the ground. Are they the minutes where he was going to hit a target? We know he can play, but his disposal is no good. He probably had his best efficiency numbers of the season last night (from the lowest number of disposals) but they've got to try something else. Call it resting for the string of games to come if you need justification. I note that being left out of the side in 2018 was the inspiration for his best season.

I lost faith entirely during the third quarter. It only had a little bit to do with Jetta having a brain-fade and kicking the ball out of bounds in the back pocket. Fair to assume he was trying to roll it through for a point but as he'd probably have been pinged for deliberate anyway, at least the ball going out of bounds meant they had to kick from an obscure angle instead of from directly in front. Didn't matter, after two and a bit quarters of asking for frees Charlie Cameron took advantage of a gift-wrapped one to extend the margin to a time-adjusted Stranglewank qualifying 20.

After half an hour of relaxation this inspired us to have another go, only to be hurt by a series of slapstick incidents. Turns out these were just the warm-up act for one Benny Hill-esque passage of play in the dying minutes. First Pickett, after weeks of desperately trying to give the ball away instead of doing instinctive snaps, finally tried to kick one when he had Langdon on his own in the square. Then, after a much-appreciated goal from Melksham (in easily his best game of the year), Oliver created the perfect opportunity for Bennell to run into an open goal on a slight angle only for him to botch it. Forget post-goal mobbings, on the occasion of his first monumental blunder he is now officially a Melbourne player.

That miss was not so bad in itself, except that the Lions dashed up the other end, did some thrilling Harlem Globetrotters double tap-on shit and ran into an open goal for the 11 point turnaround. Crucial in a shortened game where the attacking juggernaut that briefly appeared last week had been dulled. Hard to see a way back from here, even harder to understand that we might have won. If you believe that we wouldn't have found a way to cock up any sort of golden opportunity we were presented with in the last 90 seconds.

There was much indignation about umpiring throughout the evening, to the point where Dees Twitter started to resemble a pack of West Coast fans, but while I'm a firm believer that blindfolded decisions balances themselves out in the end, the 'dangerous tackle' free on Pickett nearly made me walk out of my house. He ran into his opponent like a heat-seeking missile, opted not to plow him into the ground like John Ironmonger, and was still pinged.

Lucky I didn't just go and sit in the garden or I'd have missed him being done in similar circumstances during the last quarter. At least that one had a bit more of the suplex about it, the first was just the motion of the collision lifting the opposition player marginally into the air before being put down gently like they were having a professional wrestling match.

I'm not holding it against him, we knew what we were getting from his draft highlights, including a shepherd that looked great but skirted the bounds of legality. Still seemed a bit trigger happy. If the umpires from this game were in charge of the Under 18s he'd probably have been run out of the competition and left playing whichever has a higher standard out of park footy and the SANFL.

There will be a school of thought that he has to change his ways to avoid this happening in the future, I say let them pay these frees every week until everyone notices how ridiculous it is. He'll be a martyr for everyone who says the game has gone soft. What makes it even more ridiculous is that earlier in the game Gawn had a knee jammed into the back of his head in a perfectly legal contest and nobody blinked an eyelid. Which I have no problem with, you've got to accept some risk when you play the game, it's just strange that people wank over the high mark while umpires do a tendon blowing the whistle on infinitely less dangerous stuff.

If you want to talk about risk on a footy field find Neville Jetta, who has been one major concussion from the glue factory for the entire span of his career resurgence. He took two blows to the head in the same game and Healy acted he'd only just come up with his technique after 153 games. At one point he was talking like Nev had some sort of death wish and was trying to get clobbered.

The comeback was slow-burning, Weid and Harmes both missed a chance on either side of the three quarter time break, before Jackson set up Viney - mighty in the second half - for a goal. We narrowly survived giving it straight back courtesy of a desperate Lockhart stop at the other end, leading to Anthony Hudson making him sound like a sex offender by saying he was "the toucher." Which is better than being called the Yorkshire Ripper but still doesn't sound good on your highlights reel.

I started to perk up when Jones (who was ok, nothing special but not bad) got our second of the night from a 50, putting us within a goal. When Jackson set up another, this time with a smart kick to Melksham, who booted an ice-cold finish from 40 metres, we had the balaclava on, the crowbar in hand, and were ready to commit Grand Theft Football. According to the Fox Footy PressureMetre, something we're supposed to salivate over without any explanation as to why it's important, we were ELITE. Which is... good? Let's try stringing our eliteness over four quarters instead of turning the pressure on and off like a tap.

The thrilling finish was nearly short-circuited when the Lions had a set shot, then another attempt on goal ended with Lever marking on the line, looking up and seeing loose players everywhere. The problem was the goal umpire having a crisis of confidence over whether he'd juggled it, at a stage of the game where a behind would have absolutely no impact, and calling for a review to confirm his decision. It took the reviewer no time to work out that Lever marked it, but by then the moment, and any chance of a coast-to-coast masterpiece was gone.

I'm not going to turn feral over this, we still had to get the ball to the other end without turning it over, but it does make me wonder if a player can concede a score review that is supposed to be working in his favour if he's happy to concede the point and get on with things. I suspect not, and even if he tried it would have given the Lions precious time to block off the escape routes. It may as well have been a point by the time he finally got around to kicking, because all he had left to do was the old chestnut of hoofing it to the half back flank and hoping for a Gawn mark.

He didn't find Maximum's bucket-like hands, but from the resulting stoppage we threw the game away with as Melbourne a sequence of events as you could imagine. It was the reverse of Salem vs Essendon 2014 when everything went right. Other than Petracca doing Petracca things by plowing through a pack, it was wall-to-wall slapstick comedy. Fritsch leading to the fence, Hannan kicking it to the fence, then Fritsch losing his mind and trying to delay giving the ball back, all but daring the umpire to give a 50. Which he did, rescuing the Lions player from being pinned up on the line in defence, freeing him to move to the middle of the ground and get it as far away from our goal as possible.

For the sake of my own mental health I'm not going to review the play to see who else was free. I'm told Viney was 35 metres from goal on his own and may shed a silent tear if that turns out to be true. Would have a great opportunity to test the Alan Richardson controversial hypothesis about his clutch kicking. We'll never know.

Any hope of a horror turnover that allowed us to walk it in at the other end was dashed well before they took a mark that made sure of it. That was enough for me, I didn't find out he'd missed for about half an hour. I was confident that one of their defenders wasn't going to have a psychotic episode and punch Jake Melksham in front of goal at the other end. I'll stay to the end of a live game but I don't even like watching the final siren in games that don't involve Melbourne, if I can't be happy about footy I don't want to see anyone else enjoying themselves.

Outwardly I'm not that disappointed, but the three hours of restless sleep I had after suggests there are still some deep psychological issues at play. Some are even related to football.

2020 Allen Jakovich Medal for Player of the Year 
5 - Jack Viney
4 - Clayton Oliver
3 - Christian Petracca
2 - Jake Melksham
1 - Max Gawn

Apologies to May, Hibberd, Jackson and... until the last 90 seconds... Fritsch.

Leaderboard 
More of the same at the top of the table. I suppose it's a good sign that the same players are racking up votes every week, even if it means less variety in the final table. While the main event seems to be down to four there's some interest in the minors (except the Stynes, where Gawn remains the only eligible player) - a run of apologies for May still has Hibberd narrowly ahead in the Seecamp, while Jackson is edging closer to joining Pickett and Rivers in the Hilton race. I'm sure he'll get another go, but at the moment Rivers' three games would be by far the least played by a winner.

23 - Christian Petracca
21 - Max Gawn (PROVISIONAL WINNER: Jim Stynes Medal for Ruckman of the Year)
17 - Jack Viney
12 - Clayton Oliver
6 - Michael Hibberd (LEADER: Marcus Seecamp Medal for Defender of the Year)
5 - Ed Langdon, Christian Salem
4 - Angus Brayshaw, Steven May
3 - Sam Weideman
2 - Jake Melksham
1 - Mitch Hannan, Kysaiah Pickett, Trent Rivers (JOINT LEADERS: Jeff Hilton Rising Star Medal)

Aaron Davey Medal for Goal of the Year 
Not many contenders this week. You could argue for the first Melksham goal, but with apologies to Jones' set shot I liked Milkshake's second one better. After everyone spent the night missing he couldn't have hit his kick any better. Doesn't dislodge Salem from the clubhouse lead, but he wins one free movie (adult features not included) from the hotel as a weekly prize.

Next Week 
Not quite season on the line stuff against Port Adelaide at the Gabba (where else?), but a loss would leave us with minimal margin of error in the remaining weeks. There's not much time to think about it before we play again on Thursday. I assume we're not going to rotate players yet, and will just wind back training to try and keep important players fresh. I bet Darren Burgess never saw this coming.

I'm torn between giving some of the other players a run and letting the players who rooted Hawthorn redeem themselves. I want to get McSizzle back in and would like to float the prospect of playing him on a wing. He marks better in the middle of the ground than inside 50, he can run all day, and if it goes tits up at either end of the ground he can fill a key position. Out, with no thought at all to team balance is Brayshaw for reasons previously mentioned.

IN: T. McDonald
OUT: Brayshaw (omit)
LUCKY: Nobody, everyone's done something decent in the last few weeks. Just not in all of them.
UNLUCKY: Tomlinson, Rivers and Bedford if he's still alive

Final Thoughts
I'm not considering anything finals related until we've played Adelaide and North, because it's curtains if we lose either of those. Like winning games after being outplayed all day, I wouldn't say no to finishing in the top 8 under any circumstances (remember when people were saying it was "too early" for us in 2016, as if that's a thing?) but if there's ever a year for a team to finish 9th or 10th and get an appetite for destruction the following season it's this one.

I'd prefer not to get 2017 close and miss by a minuscule percentage, but as long as we have a few highlights between now and Round 17, beat the teams we should and still miss out there won't be that much harm done. Which is exactly what you say when you've just seen a two game winning streak go up in flames.