Tiger Tiger Burning Bright

Stuff about football & community & belonging

R14: Richmond v Hawthorn at the MCG

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I’m going to to attempt the impossible here; to talk about Dusty’s 300th just in terms of a home and away game with 4 points at stake. I love Dusty and what he’s done for Richmond. Others have spoken eloquently about his special qualities and where he ranks in football history. The club handled his week very well and the mini-doco they put out says all that needs to be said.

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Dustin Martin kicked the first goal on Saturday afternoon, and it may well have registered on any seismographs in the East Melbourne / Richmond area. The vast bulk of the 92,000 crowd were Tigers, and this was a dream start for a special occasion.

We started watching on Marcus’s phone until it crapped out. I had planned to renew Kayo but they are now owned by Streamotion who are owned by Hubbl? Or something? Anyway, it didn’t happen. So at quarter time Marcus and Michael and I trotted down to the pub.

Taranto had a massive first quarter capped wth an audacious goal from the pocket. But Hawthorn were flowing smoothly, like a team on a winning streak. They kept us in it for a while by hitting the post repeatedly. Mabior is not a better forward than Tom Lynch, but the ball was being delivered beautifully to him, and he had a real day out. I was genuinely happy to see it. Tom would have been a bit frustrated up the other end.

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Scrimshaw and Sicily took 25 marks between them; a few good ones but mostly just catching aimless bombs. It was a grim afternoon; as the seamless connection we used to take for granted just stuttered and the ball hit the ground again and again. Dusty was so quiet after his goal. Noah Cumberland seemed reluctant to contest aerially. Shai kicked one goal but seemed to saving his magic for another day.

Hawthorn’s Nick Watson kept popping up in dangerous areas but kicked 1.4, so they’ll need to sharpen up that part of the curriculum at his private school. His vibe was “even shorter Tom Papley, plus mullet” so I expect to be annoyed by him for many years.

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Dan Rioli continues to stand up every week, his break out of the middle and pass to Kosi was a highlight. Kosi goaled from right in front 40 out; it would be really great to see this 20 more times this season. Great process / great result.

Apart from injuries, this is my vote for low point of the year so far. Balta & Broad muck it up.

The Hawks just galloped away in the last term. Cumberland was hooked for Kane McAuliffe; probably should have happened sooner. Nank, Vlossy, Hugo, Bakes and Ben Miller all tried hard, Shorty seemed to back in form and the Tasmanians Campbell and Mansell chipped in valuable goals.

I loathe Hawthorn, and I confess I was pretty blue by the final siren. I didn’t consciously turn my back on Dusty’s celebration; but we’d come for a game of football, and it was over. I hope he plays out the season and gets to sing the song a few more times, it’s been a little while.

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An open letter to Richmond fans (about Simon Matthews, recycling, and this Saturday afternoon).

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None of this is easy to write. Not now, when the bottom’s fallen from the bucket. A legacy has been squandered, an opportunity lost. What we had has gone, and there’s no guarantee it’ll ever come back.

I write this because of a curious convergence of events.

And because a truth need be told.

But first, the good bits. Chris Rees, a collaborator of mine, a friend to many, a man who’s done so much for the cultural capital of Richmond through his art, he called recently. Said he’s coming to the Dreamtime Game. With one of his boys. From Hobart. Wants to catch up.

I’ve not been to a game all year, but if Chris Rees is in town, count me in. Others feel the same way. We are gathering at the Cherry Tree Hotel in Cremorne (beside the walls of the old Rosella factory) from 3pm, this Saturday.

Please join us if you care. The football brings us together.

We are united by the game.

And a few weeks back there was this. Someone called Simon Matthews posted a friend request with me on Facebook. I know of only one Simon Matthews, and he works at the Richmond Football Club, and he might be many things, but he is no friend of mine.

*

I’ve written not a word about football since I was delisted by the club at the end of the 2017 season. Since then, my life has gone through many upheavals. A separation. Work difficulties. Housing uncertainty. It is a path I’ve chosen, in part, because all of us need to be true to ourselves.

Last Sunday night, my brother uploaded to YouTube a little film that the two of us have made (with the help of Chris Rees, who made the title graphic and animation), about the sort of things I get up to. Community work. Trying to help others.

Here’s a link, and a request: before you read any further, please have a look (it’s 5 min and 50 sec) and if you like it, please share it with others. Pass it along. All my best work is grassroots; I’m hoping this is no exception.

*

I’ve turned my back on football this season.

That part of my life is over.

I’m still a fan, but not for now.

And I didn’t intend to write any of this, until I came across a YouTube clip the other night on Footy Classified, of Caroline Wilson talking about Simon Matthews being a mooted successor to Brendon Gale. The preferred internal candidate, et cetera.

The thought of it makes my blood boil. And this is personal.

Caroline Wilson, in her way, endorses Simon Matthews, and of course she does. Theirs is a relationship of mutual benefit. They mix in the same circles, part of football’s inner club, an elite, scratching each other’s backs, looking out for their own.

In those seasons of writing about football, about Richmond, I did so from the outer, and that was fine, and where I needed to be. By myself, in a crowd. I found those in the football media a curious mix. Guarded, protective of their territory. They seemed incurious, even unimaginative, about so many parts of the game – including the crowd.

But not all.

Those who embraced what I tried to do through my writing, an enquiry, were those who I think are most comfortable within themselves, with who they are. Mentors, teachers. They lower the drawbridge, rather than pull it up.

Greg Baum was one of these, unafraid to include others. As was Richard Hinds. And Craig Little at the Guardian, and Paul Amy, and Francis Leach, and Tony Wilson – all of them happy to share, to embrace, include. And Channel 7 commentator Hamish McLachlan, he once mentioned my name in a broadcast, because he’d read something I’d written, and thought it worthy, and was unafraid to acknowledge. He didn’t have to – but did.

You don’t forget these things, these people.

*

My involvement in the Richmond Football Club, for a few seasons, was essentially a labour of love.

I am a fan, a lover of team sport, and a great believer in the power of storytelling. I had moved back to Melbourne, with a young family, and here was an opportunity, a way I could contribute. I was not a football writer, but I’ve played the game, and enjoy learning about the game; and I know about fire in the belly, fear, anxiety, family, community, and am curious always about what it might mean.

As one Richmond fan once said, what I was doing was ‘subversive’. His word, and it was the right one.

I gave voice to the crowd. I told their stories – one at a time, in various ways – to try coax our club to greater deeds. I believe in the power of words; and hoped that it might help our group of young men be the best they could be, giving them a shot at winning the whole thing.

And that’s what they did.

The players are the ones who made it happen, and none can take that from them. Coaches helped. Earlier decisions of recruiters were vital. Bean counters needed to create financial stability. We needed luck on our side (with injuries, with a readymade ruckman becoming available in the draft). A lot of little things needed to go right.

And they did.

For several seasons, culminating in 2017, I wrote as best I could, with all what I had, to try and have that group of young men believe in themselves, in us. I lowered the drawbridge, to let others cross. Some within the club ridiculed me for this. Maybe I made them feel uncomfortable. Maybe I challenged them. What they could see – in the numbers, the engagement – was something that to them was in part a danger. The voice of the crowd.  

For coaches (Dimma and his “four walls”), for administrators like Simon Matthews, I was someone to be wary of. Football clubs pretend to embrace the crowd – talk of the 19th man, the ‘Tiger army’ – but often it’s no more than a stance. They employ people to engage with the crowd, trying to manage what essentially is uncontrollable; in its size, in all its viewpoints, its variegated nature. They know they need the crowd – its benevolence helps pays the bills, got our club out of financial strife – but they also do all they can to keep it in its place. On the other side of the fence, at arm’s reach, on the outer.  

For those on the inside, people like Caroline Wilson and Simon Matthews, football is an industry.

For people like me, football is community.

*

Some players read what I wrote, I know they did. As did their girlfriends and partners and parents. They contacted me, correspondence was shared, trust was built. And this is so important to any footy club, any organisation: trust.

I travelled out of my way to tell as many stories of Richmond as I could. Richmond people invited me into their lives as I invited them into mine. I gave bits of myself away, so others felt safe to confide in me. I sat at kitchen tables with Richmond people. Rode my bicycle to the homes of Richmond people. Broke bread with them. Joined Richmond people at banner making. Stood in the outer at the Punt Road end with Richmond people. All the while asking questions, giving my time, an acknowledgement.

I made a public spectacle of myself – dressing up, making signs, playing a performative role, the fool! – not because I necessarily wanted to, but because I understood the worth it might offer. To help galvanise a crowd, a club. To get people talking, have them think in other ways. There was a deliberateness in the actions, and oftentimes it was designed to assist the players in subtle and untold ways.

Did it work? We’ll never really know.

I have no interest in corporate writing, or public relations. Truth is what matters, it’s what we carry with us to the end.

My skill was to tell a narrative, to try and harness the power of the crowd.

It was a privilege.

And for a while, it was so much fun.

*

Writer Konrad Marshall was invited into the club – good luck to him – and enjoyed the windfall of a few best-selling books. But ask this, if you’ve read what we wrote: was he generous enough to acknowledge what I was doing – what we were doing – what no club had done before? Did the crowd, and all the stories we entwined, have any role in finding on-field success?

Dimma jumped ship, has got himself a nice pay cheque up north, further feathered his nest, as is his entitlement. He was always cautious of me; that is his nature. Control all the controllables, and all that. But what I know is this: at some point, he embraced the power of storytelling, and there were times when I helped put words in his mouth. Things I’d write, and a day or two later, at a press conference, it was an idea he voiced. I helped give him, and the club, a narrative. Whether he knew this or not is immaterial: it happened.

I sat beside Peggy O’Neal at a luncheon in the week after we won in 2017, as the whole city seemed to celebrate with us, and I asked her how she got involved. Through money, she said. Throw money at a club, and it gets you a place on the table. And one day that got her to the head of the board, and then an AO, and now a plum job as the chancellor of RMIT university, on a salary upward of a million a year.

Lawyers, they’re good at leveraging.

Benny Gale is off to Hobart. Back home, of sorts. A nice gig, and it suits his career trajectory, and I admire Brendon Gale, and he knows it, and I’ve said it, but I’ve always harboured doubts, and sometimes voiced them. It’s frustrated me that he’s never left his seat up high at the game and come and joined the crowd. Once, I invited him to sit with me in the cheer squad. Not so much for me, but for him, for them, for us. I wanted him to experience the football from another perspective, knowing the joy it would give so many who bleed yellow-and-black.

But we are who we are, and this is not who he is.

Also, if it is true he has backed Simon Matthews as his successor, in my reckoning, that’s a misjudgement. I think the club could do much better, I know it could.

But who am I to question? I’m just some mug in the outer.

The music has stopped, the jig is up, and all of us have had a great time, and so many have moved on – are moving on – pockets have been lined with the success, and what so many of us have from those short few years is something money cannot buy.

The fondest of memories.

*

We won a premiership, the drought was over, and I was delisted from the club.

Fair enough.

Once the club got what it wanted, I was surplus to needs.

The club did what corporate entities so often do: socialise losses, capitalise the wins.

It drew itself tighter, made itself smaller, became more insular, erected higher walls – including the total folly of a temporary security fence around Punt Road Oval before the 2018 prelim final – dividing the inner circle, from those on in the outer.

It started to believe its own hype.

But three-out-of-four, that’s nothing to quibble about, that is a fine accomplishment.

But now this, and last weekend. A flogging on Saturday night, followed by a belting at Sandringham on Sunday.

Time has come for change. Nothing stands still in football. But the great disappointment is this: our club was unable to do what Geelong and Sydney have done, find sustained success. It needed to be more imaginative, make bolder decisions, if it wanted a chance to be the first Melbourne-based club to crack that puzzle. Renew at the top.

It could not find a way.

*

Creative types always have been attracted to football clubs – writers, artists, actors, musicians, poets – and football clubs often draw them in, use them for their own purposes, but have rarely wanted to fully embrace what they do. Just ask comedian Danny McGinlay, and how it ended up for him at old Footscray.

The men in suits, the corporate types, they win out.

Simon Matthews is a man in a suit. Football has served him well, as it has his brother, David Matthews, the CEO of GWS. They are part of the AFL ‘boys club’; the inner circle, full of self-interest, lining their own pockets, greasing the connections, yes men, hollow men, good at scratching their own backs.

Please let me know if I am wrong.

Simon Matthews once put me in my place, admonished me, lied to me. He insulted my integrity, my character. In doing so, he also insulted my family, and all who I’d written about, all what I was trying to do, what I believed. He insulted us all. And he did it in a way that I recognise, that has all the hallmarks of a bully, of a boor.

I know his type.

I’ve been around for long enough, am big and ugly enough, to stand my ground, call it out, not be cowered by blokes like him.

It’s what a true Tiger does.

And those who know me, who long ago played footy with me, know I’m willing to play the man – fairly – if that’s what the team needs. Go in hard. And I’ve backed into enough packs, put my head over the ball, knowing others will help me out.

It’s what Benny Gale, at centre-half-forward, did as a player. And I reckon it’s what he needs to do now, as a parting gift.

Simon Matthews threw his weight around. He played the man, with a cheap shot. He put me in my place – he put all of us in our place – without knowing who we are, what we can do.

Yes, he brought me back into the fold, for a while. Not because he really wanted to, but because he needed to. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.  

For a while, it worked. It suited us both, and it suited the club. But he never truly believed in what I was doing, in what we were doing, and he understood it divested those within the “four walls” of power. I was an outsider, an unknown proposition, a danger, to be managed.

And then a premiership was won.

I was no longer required.

He made the decision, and with it, I can add one more character trait to his resume: coward.  

He never had the heart to pick up the phone, make that call.

Got others to do his dirty work.

And now someone called Simon Matthews has recently tried to follow me on Facebook.

*

I’m going to the Cherry Tree Hotel on Saturday afternoon before the game, to be with friends, and if any who’ve known Chris Rees or myself through our long-ago contributions to Richmond, if they’d like to turn up, they are welcome.

It’s the least I can do. Give others the opportunity, the chance.  

A Richmond man – I won’t name him, he doesn’t need to be drawn into this – he called this week, we talked, and he’s offered me a load of tools from his shed. He knows a bit of what I’ve been through, he wants to help. He said he’d recently lost his job and is soon to turn 60. He understands what it’s like to have your back to the wall.

This week, I published a film with my brother, and it made me think of me and him, people like us, what we do, how we include, and why.

And it made me think also of Simon Matthews, and his brother, the two of them, the chosen ones, the privilege that has come their way, and what they choose to do with it.

I see Simon Matthews trying to position himself for the top job. Photo ops, building bridges, networking. He is welcome to join me, and others, at the pub this Saturday afternoon. But if he does, he better be ready to do some explaining.

Cross a Tiger – a wounded Tiger, a passionate Tiger – and it doesn’t come without repercussions.

I am not that man to go quietly into the night, not without a fight.

I wish the boys well on Saturday night.

Our new coach has been dealt an impossible hand.

This season can be one only of transition.

I’m not following the football this year – my energies need to be elsewhere; with my boys, with other pursuits, with earning enough to pay the rent, with trying to solve a housing problem – but my heart is still in the crowd, and always will be.

I will return to the game someday, because the game has given me so much.

But if you know of any on the Richmond board, let them know this. I will never be back at Richmond if Simon Matthews is in charge. Never. I’ve been around long enough, had enough life experience, to know those who I respect. My advice to the board: make changes, rejuvenate, move Simon Matthews on.

Footballers have no security of tenure – theirs is not a job for life – let him find some humility in a hard choice. Trust me, it’ll be better for everyone. Including him.

And what have I been up to since my football writing days ceased?

Washing dishes at a café in St Kilda.

Building chicken house with children who have trouble in class.

Raising funds through recycling to help welcome and support a refugee family.

I’ve found my peace, away from the game.

And this week, I’ve had the great honour to tell part of my story on ABC Radio. I was asked questions, I answered. I talk a bit about football, but nothing about my experience with Richmond. That’s for another time.

The power of the extra dad – ABC listen

Tyger tyger burning bright

2022: Round 4 v Western Bulldogs at the MCG

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I have decided not to go this game. I am managing my Covid risk, I tell myself. But as it turns out though I can’t go anyway. After two years of the pandemic being out there and affecting everyone else, it arrives in our house. My partner tests positive on Saturday morning and we all have to isolate for seven days. With my partner unwell and keeping to herself in the front room I am busy keeping the household ticking over. It is with some relief that I hit the couch at 7.25 to watch the Tigers. But how much relief will it be if we get crushed?
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I have decided not to go this game.  I am managing my Covid risk, I tell myself.  But as it turns out though I can’t go anyway.  After two years of the pandemic being out there and affecting everyone else, it arrives in our house.  My partner tests positive on Saturday morning and we all have to isolate for seven days. 

With my partner unwell and keeping to herself in the front room I am busy keeping the household ticking over.  It is with some relief that I hit the couch at 7.25 to watch the Tigers. But how much relief will it be if we get crushed?

This might so easily have been the case.  Luckily for Richmond, the Dogs have not been told about “the big sticks rule” where you get six points for a goal and only one for a behind.  They fire for goal again and again as if all that matters is registering some sort of score.  They dominate the first part of the first term and in no time have their first “point goal” and lead 1.6 to 1.1.  Eventually Richmond break away, Bolton marks Riewoldt’s kick, plays on and goals and we’re in front.

Bolton snaps another point shortly after and the Dogs win a free, 30m out, right in front and miss.  Just before the break Naughton snaps and goals and they’re in front.

Quarter-time score:  Richmond 2.2.14 to Western Bulldogs 2.7.19.

I can only think how lucky we are that they didn’t kick straight and bury us. But our attacks, when they’ve come, have been exciting and fluid and have resulted in actual goals.

Early in the second term Picket marks a clearing kick and goals from the 50, his kick straight, high and handsome.  This is a good spell for us, in which luck plays no small part.  Castagna marks and wins a 50 under the new “still-like-a-statue” rule.  Not wanting to make it look too easy he does a weird, play-on snap and goals from 15m out.

We win another of those 50s, this time against Naughton, and Presti, back in the side and looking good, goals from 30 out.  Lynch then plays his best two minutes of footy in the last two years.  He takes a good grab on the wing and gives the footy to Bolton who gives it to someone else who kicks goalward where to where Lynch has run.  He marks and goals and the Tigers are looking very sharp.

Macrae gets one back for Footscray before a piece of Richmond play that brings tears to my eyes.  Cotchin wins a great one-on-one scrap and taps the footy to Balta who takes off like a Clydesdale freed from the plough. 

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He has one bounce and bombs it into the forward line where Lynch tries to mark, can’t quite get it, turns, gathers the loose footy and goals from close range under very close attention from the Doggies’ defence.  It’s old-fashioned Richmond footy, one contest to the next and so on down the ground.  It’s great to see Lynch moving so well and taking his chances and we’re four goals in front.

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The Dogs still don’t know about the six-points-for-a-goal rule and Naughton misses again at the other end and it’s 7.3 to 3.10.  The runner goes out and explains the rule to Naughton who goals from the free kick after Short kicks out on the full.

Half-time score:  Richmond 7.3.45 to Footscray 4.10.34

Richmond have been very good, especially the defence which is without most of our Premiership Heroes except for Short and Broad.  Those two have been good – I’ve been very impressed with Broad over the past two seasons, he plays with a lot of skill and vision and plenty of toughness too.  But the new defenders – Rioli, Tarrant and Gibcus – have also held their positions.

We have our noses in front, but the Dogs’ inaccuracy has put us there.  If they keep getting the ball forward and start kicking straight they will swamp us.  Sure enough the third term starts badly when Bontempelli marks and goals after we’d left him all by himself.  Then Shedda is caught holding the ball and I worry that he’s starting to look slow.  The Dogs go into attack from the free kick but Bontempelli misses.  They’ve now kicked 5.12 to 7.3.

There follows a passage of blood and guts so wonderful that it’s censored.  The Dogs try to switch play across their backline but Baker flies in and spoils, Lynch gathers the loose footy, straightens up and goals. 

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Lynch and other Tigers rush to thank Baker for his work and to check that he hasn’t bled to death.  Channel Seven rush to an ad and so we don’t see the gory aftermath.  But after the ad someone says “he split his head open” and the camera is on him for half a second as he is treated on the bench.  It looks like someone has upended a tin of red ink on his head, then it’s back to the un-bloodied players on the ground.

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Had this been a Shakespeare play rather than the AFL, the King, striding across the ‘G would have gestured to Baker on the bench and said “What bloody man is that?”

Sadly, after this English gets a quick reply for the Dogs who are not going to go away and are slowly learning the finer points of scoring in Australian footy.

Richmond go into attack again, Castagna marks on the 50 and kicks it to Riewoldt who can’t mark.  The ball spills loose, Footscray try to clear it but Bolton blinks through them like a ghost, grabs the footy cleanly, turns in the pocket and kicks it on his left just inside the boundary.  It sails high right over the goal umpire’s head and you wonder is there anything Shai can’t do?  There is some similarity to Dusty’s ridiculous goal at the end of the GF in 2020.  The stealing of the footy, the quick turn, the evasion, the outrageous ambition of attempting a shot from so tight an angle.

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Naughton ices this particular cake for us by missing again and soon it’s 9.4 to 6.14.  They’ve had seven more scores than us – and very few have been rushed behinds – and we lead by eight points.  Castagna has a good chance with an empty forward line in front of him but he misses.  The Dogs kick the footy out on the full, Cotch takes the free and Lynch takes a big grab 45 out on a 45 angle.  He kicks perfectly and we’re still in front with less than five minutes left in the third term.  So, the most pessimistic thing you could say is, we’re doing better than we were against the Saints.

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Baker, back on the ground with his skull fused with superglue, does some great work in the middle and gets it to Balta who kicks long and wide.  It’s not a great kick at all but Riewoldt marks right next to the behind post and kicks the goal.  We lead by 20 with 2.45 left in the quarter.

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Some poor Richmond disposals result in another mark to Naughton but only a rushed behind results.  Again Richmond can’t clear but then Treloar misses.

Richmond attack and Riewoldt marks on the 50 with 16 seconds left.  The siren goes and the umpire kindly explains what he is allowed to do – that is, he can’t play on.  Many, many years ago when Jack was perhaps still a teenager, I watched him on the telly in a game against the Saints.  If I’m not mistaken, he had a kick after the siren from a similar distance that could have won us the game.  And what made me so sad was not just that his kick fell short – I sort-of expected that – but that he kicked a drop punt.  It was well-known, even then, that his kicks just didn’t go that far.  But he didn’t even try a torpedo to get that extra five or ten meters that was required.  And I thought, I know it’s old-fashioned, but shouldn’t players at least know how to try a torp when it’s their only hope?

Evidently, Jack had heard my silent lament and tonight he shapes up to kick a torp.  I don’t think much of the kick off the boot – it looks like it’s going wide and falling short – but in the magical way of the spiral it straightens up and goes much further than it needs to.  It’s a goal and Jack becomes the 21st highest-scoring player in Men’s AFL-VLF history, or something and is mobbed by his team-mates.

And it’s the last change and the Tigers are up by four goals.

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Three-quarter-time score:  Richmond 12.5.77 to Footscray 6.17.53

Dunkley starts the last quarter well by kicking into the point post.  At the other end a ferocious tackle from Toby wins him a free and he goals from close range.  Soon the last term is half over and we still lead by five goals and then Parker, also playing well, wins a holding-the-ball free and goals from 30 out.  Is this the sealer?  Are we safe now, 37 points in front?  The way we coughed up leads against Carlton and the Saints means we can’t relax until there are fewer minutes left than our lead in goals.

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And soon this blessed time arrives, six minutes left and we lead by 38 points.

Then Presti marks a clearing kick on the 50, hands it off to the un-tagged Short who bombs it from 55.  We’re up by 45 points and are running away with it.  Treloar kicks a sad, late goal for the Dogs.  Hunter is gifted a 50 for time-wasting against Baker but he misses from 25 out.  Then, to make all the Dogs feel better, Riewoldt marks and kicks a point after the siren.

Final Score:  Richmond 15.9.99 to Footscray 7.19.61

There are many pleasing things about this win.  Our make-shift defence has done very well.  Ben Miller in his third game has been good and the old hands, Broad, Short and Rioli, have all stood up.  Presti has had a great return to the side, 30 possessions, 10 of them contested and a goal.  Pickett has played one of his best games for us.  Bolton has been brilliant and Lynch and Riewoldt have had their best games in a long time.  Baker has had another very good game and his head-splitting heroics would be immortalised had he lived in a less squeamish age.  Parker has played another good game too, as has Cotch.  I could name the whole side, as is generally the case when Richmond play well and win.

The Dogs’ kicking for goal is what kept us in the game early and perhaps won it for us in the end.  But what really hurt them was how well we used the footy when we had it.

Wraps and gaps

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In February I wrote here “Dynasties don’t last much longer than this in general, so there’s every prospect of a dip in fortunes at the very least.” Thanks very much Nostradamus. So, you can blame me for the Tiges nosedive in 2021. But like 2017 and 2019, we did not lose in September.

You can also blame me for the huge gaps in TTBB this season. I have struggled for motivation, for time and sometimes for positivity. The team has had some terrible performances, sure. But in the past I think we would have been on here spewing words to dissect these losses and demand Liam McBean come into the side. I didn’t want to think about AFL footy so much this year. But that’s what this site is all about, so please accept my apology that I just wasn’t able to do it at times in 2021.

During lockdowns, and all the other difficulties and limitations the pandemic has imposed; football and sport generally has played an important part in giving people a distraction and something to look forward to. The AFL has been flexible, shipping games here and there, playing in front of low or no crowds, the show must go on. This meant that for some Melbourne footy lovers, the unthinkable happened: their side played in a Grand Final that they were barred from attending. Not just “tickets are scarce” but – you’re barred. And they couldn’t even congregate to watch together because of restrictions on indoor gatherings.

I am not convinced AFL footy should have gone ahead this year. I do not have a persuasive argument for this case; it’s just a feeling that dogged me through the season. I am in Tasmania, where we have only had isolated single Covid cases bob up over the last year. I could go to local footy, with its small crowds. It felt good to be keeping the flame burning for all the people who would have done anything to be able to stand in the wind and rain and yell ‘ballllllll’.

The AFL with its interstate travel and huge payrolls is so much more than a sport. It’s too big to fail. The stock market would actually take a hit if the AFL was cancelled for a year. TV would have panicked as they did when sports started cancelling in 2020. AFL 2021 was always going to crash through no matter what. I was in the privileged position where I could go to a game, watch the Hobart Tigers lose, come home satisfied and just absorb the AFL on the radio or in the paper. Didn’t watch it much.

I don’t know how we’ll do in 2022, or how I’ll feel when round 1 is approaching. Nostradamus needs to go up on the roof and fiddle with the aerial to the crystal ball.

I do want to thank, from the bottom of my heart, David Astbury and Bachar Houli. Two wonderful men that have been ornaments to Richmond Football Club and to the game. Football has given them a platform and a career to this point; I expect we will hear a lot more from them in the years to come.

Bachar has his Foundation and we know he’ll continue to do his amazing community work; which I think of as stitching Muslim Australians into the wider fabric of Australia. David comes across as such a deep thinker, a humanist and an optimist. I hope we will have further opportunities to hear him speak – whatever his public role.

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Season 2021 – The highs, the lows…

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The Red and Blue mob are still be waving their Grand Old Flag in a state of delirium. And we don’t begrudge them the pleasure ‘cause we know what that feels like. There are so many apparent parallels between the Dees of ’21 and the Tiges of ’17 in their rapid rise and redemption. Simon Goodwin voices the same epiphany that turned Dimma around. The talk of team-culture, deep camaraderie and self-belief sounds very familiar. And Christian Petracca really did put on an amazing Dusty Martin impersonation in the big game, didn’t he?

This football season just concluded was another strange one. For the parts that coincided with Melbourne lockdown it did provide welcome distraction and entertainment, just like the one before, even if it didn’t offer the same exquisite pleasures for us Tiger supporters.

The velocity of our team’s crash back to earth took me by surprise. It is weird how quickly one adjusts to following a top-of-the-table team, and it’s not an easy thing to relinquish. A terrible run of injuries was a large part of the cause but, still, it was alarming to see the wheels fall off the juggernaut so quickly.  And who can say whether season 2022 will bring resurrection or stagnation? Anything can happen. Aside from Gold Coast FC, which I still can’t take seriously, the competition is really quite even. Most clubs have potential to take the fast elevator ride from middling under-achiever to serious premiership contender. Barring another catastrophic injury run, I think the Tigers are well placed to bounce back. Some of our older blokes are close to the end but we have some great players in their prime years and some promising new ones coming through. I reckon that Ross, Collier-Dawkins and Hugo-Smith are the safest bets in this latter category but there’s scope for others to stake a claim too. The compromised second-tier competition this year and last made it so much more difficult for players to step in at the top level. Hopefully next year will be better in that regard.

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I managed to watch two games at the MCG in real-life in season 2021, encapsulating the good and the bad of our season. I saw the Tiges storm home with a wet sail against the previously undefeated Bulldogs in round 7. We still seemed vaguely like a champion team at that stage of the season, with the added bonus of Shai Bolton looking like a break-out superstar. But then in round 17 I witnessed the unedifying spectacle of demolition by Collingwood in the final quarter. Our team looked shot. And losing to the Pies hasn’t become any less horrible as the years roll on.

For me, the best game of the season was actually one that we lost narrowly, against Port Adelaide in round 4. Such a high-quality contest between two sides playing great football, and neither deserved to lose. The game that we lost by a mere skerrick against the Wet Toast later in the season was a cracker too, although harder to take pleasure in because of our team’s woeful capitulation in the final ten minutes. The win against Brisbane on the occasion of Jack Riewoldt’s 300th game was a season highlight too, although soured by Dusty’s ruptured kidney. And I shouldn’t forget to mention the final six minutes of our season, where we suddenly woke from our slumber and kicked several quick goals to snatch a draw with the Turd-birds. That was fun to watch.

The lows? The aforementioned capitulation to Collingwood is up there on the list. But I think that fortnight where our team was demolished by St Kilda and then trounced by Gold Coast was the nadir. Both those games were truly demoralising. And I think the game against Freo, where our only goal for the entire first half was one kicked by mistake by Rhyan Mansell, deserves a special mention too. Shocking. But then I guess we move on, preferring not to dwell too long on such indignities.

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We’ll miss David Astbury and Bachar Houli in season 2022. But we look forward to welcoming back Ivan Soldo, Noah Balta, Nathan Broad, Dustin Martin, Dion Prestia and Shane Edwards, all in better health. And then who knows what might happen? Hope springs eternal, in a yellow-and-black jumper.

Round 13 v West Coast Eagles at Perth Stadium

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By my calculations, if Richmond are to make the top-four we have only one or two losses left and this had better not be one of them. On the other hand, winning in Perth is never easy and I can’t remember when we last beat the Eagles there. Presti is out injured but Lambert is back in which is huge. Apparently, the Eagles also have some good players injured but I don’t care about them. In any case we start well. C C-Jones almost pulls of a very good mark, Aarts gets a point for us, the first score of the game and Chol wins the first three ball-ups against Natanui. Riewoldt kicks the first goal with a clever soccer kick – he’s got a few of these lately – after Picket had sent in a long pass. Unfortunately, Naitanui soon gets one for the Eagles, a very clever snap from the boundary. The Tigers respond with a good period in which they dominate but don’t score. Vlaustin is doing well in defence and sends a long kick into the forward line. Riewoldt marks and kicks the goal and with half the first term gone we lead 2.2 to 1.0.

Perth Stadium, Saturday 12 June 2021

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By my calculations, if Richmond are to make the top-four we have only one or two losses left and this had better not be one of them.  On the other hand, winning in Perth is never easy and I can’t remember when we last beat the Eagles there.

Presti is out injured but Lambert is back in which is huge.  Apparently, the Eagles also have some good players injured but I don’t care about them.

In any case we start well.  C C-Jones almost pulls of a very good mark, Aarts gets a point for us, the first score of the game and Chol wins the first three ball-ups against Natanui.  Riewoldt kicks the first goal with a clever soccer kick – he’s got a few of these lately – after Pickett had sent in a long pass.  Unfortunately, Naitanui soon gets one for the Eagles, a very clever snap from the boundary.  The Tigers respond with a good period in which they dominate but don’t score.  Vlaustin is doing well in defence and sends a long kick into the forward line.  Riewoldt marks and kicks the goal and with half the first term gone we lead 2.2 to 1.0.

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Bloody Kennedy marks twice and goals, once from close in and once from 45 out and the Eagles clearly have their kicking boots on.

But it’s still been a good quarter for us at a hostile venue.  Our best players have been Vlaustin, Chol and Houli.  Grimes has done well too.

Quarter time score:  West Coast 3.0.18 to Richmond 2.2.14

Early in the quarter Bolton has a very good chance but his kick goes out on the full.  The Eagles have evidently sprinkled all the magic goal-kicking dust on their own boots.  Caddy hits the post from 45 out on a tight angle.  I actually thought he did well to hit the post.  West Coast rebound too easily through the middle, Cripps marks and goals and we really need the next one.

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Into attack we go, Rioli wins a free for high contact on the 50, but Graham takes the advantage, plays on and goals and it’s 4.0 to 3.3.  Another promising attack is ruined by a poor kick into the forward line.  The Eagles rebound again and Oscar Allen goals from a set shot, 55m out.  If we are to win this, we just can’t let the Eagles have the footy in their forward half.  Nor in their back half, for that matter.

But just as I’m starting to think that this might be too hard, Dusty gathers and goals from the boundary as if it were the most basic skill in footy.  The silence of the crowd is eloquent.  Best of all is that Dusty had taken the footy from the ball-up in which, effectively, Richmond didn’t even have a ruck.  He just stole the ball from the Eagles’ tap and away he went.

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Bolton marks, plays on and kicks to C C-Jones who marks and wins a 50 for late contact.  I think it’s a fair call but there seem to be West Coast fans who disagree.  It’s an easy goal and we’re in front again, 5.3 to 5.0.  Then Aarts refuses to be tackled, runs in and goals on the run from 45 out and the young feller seems quite at home in this team.  The quarter is half over and we’re in front by nine points.

It gets better when Bolton flies very high without marking, Lambert then gets the footy, runs in and goals and it’s a big welcome back to the Pride of Preston and we’re 15 points in front.  Sadly, the Eagles don’t go away and win a free for high contact against Grimes.  Jones goals from the set shot and the Eagles still haven’t missed which is disturbing.  Broad does very well to stop another West Coast attack but his clearing kick is marked by Waterman who goals – of course – from 45.  We lead by three points.

At some point West Coast get a point which must annoy them.  Pickett wins a ruck contest – yes, Pickett – and taps the ball to Bolton who sends a long kick to Riewoldt who takes a very good mark but misses the set shot.  The siren goes and we’ve won the quarter.  Pickett and Bolton have been good but the whole team has been solid.

Half-time score: West Coast 7.1.43 to Richmond 7.5.47

West Coast begin the second half in more promising fashion by having two kicks spoiled on the line with no forwards there to make good.  The game becomes very slow and tactical.  McIntosh does well but one set shot hits the post and his second misses too.  But he makes amends when his pass is marked by C C-Jones who kicks the first goal of the quarter with 7.30 left on the clock.  Once again, the crowd silence is a thing of beauty.

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West Coast attack again and somehow Baker, all five foot eight of him, manages to spoil the mark.  The Tigers rebound and once again McIntosh is involved and Castagna trots into an open goal and kicks it.  We lead 9.8 to 7.3. Naitanui wins a free for in-the-back, plays on, shrugs away the tackler as if he were a loose scrap of paper in a light breeze and kicks to Ryan who has somehow found himself by himself.  He goals from 30m out and when the siren goes we’re up by two goals.

It’s been a good quarter for us.  Vlaustin has been good again and so has McIntosh.  We’ve been very disciplined and have stopped West Coast’s tiresome kick-and-mark game.  I’m hopeful that we’ll finish strongly.

Three-quarter time score: West Coast 8.3.51 to Richmond 9.9.63

In the last term the Tigers cover themselves in glory until they don’t.  The Eagles get it back to one goal when Kennedy marks and goals from an angle, again.  Oscar Allen misses after taking a good mark and playing on.  I have thought all game that if they could just start missing their shots, we might win this.  But they attack again and again and we can’t seem to find a way out.  Castagna makes a mark-saving spoil deep in the back line.  At last the Tigers rebound, Dusty makes a tackle, Bolton gathers and gives it back to Dusty who runs in and kicks it along the ground and through the big sticks.

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A minute later Lambert goals off a step from just inside the 50 and we lead by 17 points with five minutes gone.  Oscar Allen wins a very dubious free kick for a dangerous tackle, right in front.  As sometimes happens, he can’t believe it’s a free kick either and sportingly misses the easy shot.  If only they could keep missing…

There follows a long period where the ball stays in the West Coast forward line, but eventually we break away again and Bolton goals on the run from 50m and surely we can win this now?  We lead by 22 points but there 11 minutes left – which is a long time, as Lou Richards used to say, “the way footy’s played today.”

Someone says that fatigue might become a factor. For unknown reasons, Richmond, who played in Perth last Saturday, had flown back to Sydney after the game and then back to Perth for this one.  I know that flying 8000km is not quite as hard as walking 8000km, but still.  Why did they do that?  West Coast haven’t travelled anywhere.

In any case, mistakes start to happen.  Grimes throws the footy and Waterman just sneaks in the free kick for a goal.  We attack again but stuff up the last kick into the 50 and West Coast rebound.  Cripps goals and we lead by 10 points with seven minutes left.

Baker gives away a free for deliberate out-of-bounds but Ryan manages only a point.  Naitanui takes a great mark in a pack but misses from close range.  Is it possible they could kick their way out of this?  But the poor kicking is contagious and Vlaustin’s kick-in is the worst I’ve seen him do.  It just clears Pickett’s head and goes into the arms of Edwards – their Edwards, not ours – on the 50 who kicks calmly to Oscar Allen who marks and goals from close range.  It’s down to a few points now and the Eagles are all over us.

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We have another chance for a goal but again the last kick lets us down as Castagna kicks it straight to Hurn at full-back.  From there the Eagles rebound quickly.  Yeo sends a long kick toward Broad and Ryan.  Ryan gathers the loose footy and kicks it 1450mm to Kennedy who is awarded the mark and goals from a tight angle.  Again.  There are 36 seconds left and all is not lost.

Editor’s note: from approximately where Ryan kicked to where Kennedy marked
is a distance of only six chest-marking Kennedys, ie 6x196cm = under 12 metres.
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It does seem to be though when the Eagles win the tap at the re-start.  But Grimes wins the footy back for us.  We need one more bit of luck and we might have it when Grimes might have given away a free for in-the-back but there’s no whistle.  He kicks to Chol who takes the ball an inch off the deck and handpasses to Vlaustin who is steaming past.  Vlaustin’s kick is spilled by Riewoldt just outside the 50 but he gathers the loose ball and gets it to Martin who runs out of the centre square and lets fly from the 50.  It’s two-against-two in our forward line but Hurn swallows it again and it’s all over.

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It has been a great game, but gee it hurts to lose.  Especially to a club with such an awful jumper and wretched song.  But I’m being small-minded.  The Eagles were very good.  They seem to take goal-kicking practice very seriously.  And they’ve come back from four goals down half-way through the last quarter.

Hard to pick our best players, as usual. Lambert has been great on his return.  The defenders have all done well in a tough gig, but Vlaustin might have been the best of them.  And it will be forgotten, as we lost this game and didn’t kick a goal in the last half-minute, but the composure and skill of Grimes, Chol, Vlaustin, Riewoldt and Martin right at the end is something they should be proud of.

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Round 8 v Geelong at the MCG

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The best thing about tonight is how good our seats are. Level four but just nine rows from the front on the flank at the Punt Road End. When I first tried to get tickets – on-line, of course – I was offered “best available” in some god-forsaken row right at the back. I tried again and got these and was grateful. But given how small the crowd is I think that the random nature of the ticketing process has put a lot of people off. There is a very strong Geelong contingent in a crowd of just over 50 thousand. That means that fewer than half of our 100 thousand strong army has turned up on this fine and mild night, a week after our best home-and-away win in years. And we’re playing the closest thing we have to a Victorian rival whom we beat in last year’s Grand Final. I say these things as if we need to be reminded of them which perhaps some of our supporters do..
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The best thing about tonight is how good our seats are.  Level four but just nine rows from the front on the flank at the Punt Road End.  When I first tried to get tickets – on-line, of course – I was offered “best available” in some god-forsaken row right at the back.  I tried again and got these and was grateful.  But given how small the crowd is I think that the random nature of the ticketing process has put a lot of people off.  There is a very strong Geelong contingent in a crowd of just over 50 thousand. That means that fewer than half of our 100 thousand strong army has turned up on this fine and mild night, a week after our best home-and-away win in years. And we’re playing the closest thing we have to a Victorian rival whom we beat in last year’s Grand Final.  I say these things as if we need to be reminded of them which perhaps some of our supporters do.

It doesn’t matter as we play extremely well anyway, kicking to the City End so that we’ll come home to the Punt Road End which is always good.  Shai, who rehearsed Mark of the Year several times against Footscray, without actually nailing it, this time nails it in the goal-square.  Fifty thousand people gasp and gasp again at the replay.  Shai goes back and kicks the goal, which, if I know my History of Great Grabs, is unusual.  Typically, all the genius is used up in the mark and the kick disappoints.

We are three goals up at the first break and I am confident that we are setting up a comfortable six-to-eight goal win.  We lead 4.3 to 1.3.

The second quarter goes less well but we still lead by a goal – 7.7 to 6.4.  In the third term we will surely get into our stride again and put these Cats in their place.

It all goes horribly wrong, of course.  Geelong have three big forwards who all have their kicking boots on.  Hawkins, Cameron and Rohan mark and goal from a good way out and on difficult angles.  They crumb and goal too showing they can read the play pretty well.  Our defence can’t cope and our depleted midfield can’t help.  On our odd foray forward Lynch and Riewoldt seem to disappear.  I’m sure they’re still out there and trying hard and everything, but I can’t see them.

Three quarter time score:  Richmond 8.9 to Geelong 14.8

In a quarter of footy we’ve added a goal and two points against 8.4.  We are 33 points down.  We could still win but it’s unlikely.  I’m hoping we don’t lose by too much.  I’m hoping we come back enough to at least make Geelong nervous.  But there’s no such luck. The last term is as bad as the third and we go down by ten goals.

It’s a miserable night.  At least we can say we were there for Shai’s Great Grab.  And with the way the Tigers have travelled in recent years there’s an exquisite kind of pain in being there at a loss.  When we win the flag, again, I can say, well, I was there the night the Cats tore us to shreds and everyone wrote us off.

Final score:  Richmond 9.9.63 to Geelong 19.12.126

I think Shai is our best player but he has few mates.  I’m sure Dusty is injured as he’s had little impact.  Ever-reliable players like Vlaustin and Houli have had quite average games.  On the other hand, I do think we’ve kept trying to the end, even when nothing worked.

Grand Final: Richmond v Geelong at the Gabba Q4

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After a third term when we seized the initiative and Geelong seized up, I watched the last huddle of the season with rapt impatience. We could probably win this without Riewoldt or Lynch but it would help if they joined in. Nank got things off to a flyer with a splendid 55 metre pass down Lynch’s throat; but nothing came of it. Then there was this handpass. Toby is such an unassuming gun footballer. Matt Zurbo used to coach him and wrote this fantastic piece in the Almanac earlier in Grand Final week, inspired by his outstanding prelim final performance against Port.

After a third term when we seized the initiative and Geelong seized up, I watched the last huddle of the season with rapt impatience. We could probably win this without Riewoldt or Lynch but it would sure help if they joined in. Nank got things off to a flyer with a splendid 55 metre pass down Lynch’s throat; but nothing came of it. Then there was this handpass.

Toby is such an unassuming gun footballer. Matt Zurbo used to coach him and wrote this fantastic piece in the Almanac earlier in Grand Final week, inspired by his outstanding prelim final performance against Port.

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For one so young, Baker is a serious finals performer. He kicks a genius submarine pass to Riewoldt who’s in acres of space in forward 50, and via quick ungainly transfers it goes through Graham, George, and Lambert to Prestia running along the boundary, who goals from near the point post [Bruce credits it to Graham]. Really only the last pass was cultured and conventionally accurate. 52-44, we have six of the last seven goals.

Astbury is putting on a masterclass for any defenders with a daunting match-up. Hawkins looks like Micky Conlan would if he was scaled up to the height of John Ironmonger. But there’s something early-Richo-like about Hawkins’ lack of resilience in games. Miss a shot early and they are almost a liability. Now Astbury is rag-dolled out of the way but Hawkins drops the ball; and in there I am crediting Astbury with making it just hard enough for mentally-gone Hawkins to fail.

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Geelong are not putting anything together. Their isolation from each other is Crows-at-the-2017-anthem-like. Making a very rare inside 50, Gryan Miers gallops forward, chased by Houli at calf-tearing pace, and kicks while too far out with no mates there to catch it, so Broad does.

Shai flashes into the game with a mark, play on, and astonishing stop-start mosquito run that gives him space to bomb it to Lynch in the square. Tom is on the board, 59-44 and the margin really feels like more.

Soon Cotch is lining up for another one after taking possession and going looking for Harry Taylor’s elbow with his head in classic Selwood fashion. 45m out on a steep angle we know he is no chance but the comms are quite excited that he might be getting us one goal away from being uncatchable. He misses.

Shorty is having a hell of a game. Everything he does has a lightness to it. He is probably the model rebounding halfback in the game now. Look at this kick, the physics of it is beautiful.

Dusty is front and centre all on his own and kicks his third after barely shrugging to dislodge O’Connor’s tackle, and its 66-44. He stretches his jumper in celebration. Hard to see where a Cats goal will come from. Hard to remember how they got to a grand final. This quarter the umps are giving them nothing; we are getting all the line ball calls and getting away with murder at times. Eg Nank takes the ball out of the ruck, gets caught: another ball up.

Now the Cats go forward and Menegola marks bravely running with the ball but unfortunately poleaxing Sam Simpson. He’s out cold and there’s a 7-minute delay, while TV replays the incident in stomach-churning detail.

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The teams get into huddles, but the Cats break up quite quickly and seem to all be staring into their personal darknesses alone. Meanwhile the cameras catch the Tiges in 3s and 4s talking animatedly. That’s winning and losing I suppose. But there are nearly 8 minutes left on the clock and only 22 points in it.

After an eternity Sam Menegola kicks the goal professionally, and I was really happy for him that he did, in these circumstances.

As Simpson is placed on the cart the spidercam shows a few Tigers come over and wish him well.

Riewoldt kicks a point, then we have five minutes where we look wobbly. Not like we are going to lose, but not like a team that “can do no wrong”. We can do wrong.

Danger is trying to rally his side by staging, really flopping about looking for high contact. As noted above he is not the only player doing this.

Stewart has been Geelong’s best, and he is trying to rally his side by kicking very very long and accurately.

Baker has had a great game, now with amazing fingertip control he manages to slam ball on boot and hit Riewoldt lace out. Jack nails the shot from the boundary 48m out, and gets the crazy eyes in the celebration. 90 seconds to go.

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Now Martin kicks his 4th. The hapless Rhys Stanley fumbles again and again while running out towards Danger in the pocket. He finally gets away something like a handpass to Danger, but it’s plucked right off his hands by the sharking Martin, also running towards the boundary.

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He stops, shrugs off Dangerfield who is rotating around him like a naughty kid on a Hills Hoist; and just hooks it through for one of the all-time great poacher’s goals. 80-50.

There’s time for Riewoldt to clunk another one. His set shot is always missing as Brian intones “Riewoldt is on target…”. BT’s dedication to being clearly wrong has been a real 4-quarter effort.

By now Richmond staff are massing on the boundary. Unlike the sight of happy players, even very happy players, seeing happy coaches hugging and high-fiving is very rare. For Richmond people to have been able to enjoy that sight twice more after the delirious breakthrough of 2017, is really special.

Richmond 2.1(13) 3.2(20) 7.4(46) 12.9(81)
Geelong 2.2(14) 5.5(35) 6.8(42) 7.8.(50)

Epilogue

It’s taken me ages to write up this game, so first apologies for that. In 2017 I designed a bumper sticker as part of my celebrations of the win. In 2019 and 2020 I had to follow up with new ones, and both times it really got in the way of me celebrating the win; having this job to do with people waiting. Knowing that we are certainly still in the mix to win more premierships, I’m going to announce now that that’s the end of my premiership merch career. The 17, 19 and 20 items will stay on sale for anyone who wants one; but I think there are plenty of other people doing wonderful designs and I will leave it to them to cover our 2021 three-peat hat trick and our subsequent flags.

The Benny

5: Dustin Martin – Australian Rules’ greatest ever big game player. His first three goals were each desperately needed footholds as we clung onto the mountain; his fourth was just the perfect celebration of our total mastery of Geelong. Dusty has again taken out the Benny with 41 votes.
4: Jayden Short – had 25 touches including 18 exquisite kicks, made 7 inside 50s and laid 6 tackles.
3: Shane Edwards – 27 touches, covered every blade of grass, a quiet leader
2: Toby Nankervis – followed up last week with another complete ruck performance, 6 tackles.
1: Shai Bolton – just a highlight package isn’t he? Had some glorious moments, 7 tackles. And he is runner-up in the 2020 Benny.

Final standings
41: Martin
27: Bolton
24: Short
18: Grimes, Vlastuin, Graham
17: Balta
15: Cotchin
13: Lambert, Edwards
12: McIntosh
10: Riewoldt, Baker
9: McIntosh, Prestia
8: Houli
7: Pickett, Nankervis
6: Soldo, Lynch
5: Higgins, Eggmolesse-Smith, Chol
4: Caddy
2: Aarts
1: Castagna, Astbury

Maurice Rioli Grip of Death Trophy for Tackles
This year won by Jack Graham with 72
Pickett 69
Lambert 68
Rioli 57
Cotchin 51
Bolton 47

Familiar February feelings

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I was staring into space a minute ago thinking “I just don’t have any excitement or a sense of anticipation for the AFLM footy season. And maybe this is the most disengaged I can remember feeling”. But now I remember I was just the same last year, even before Covid came to town. This might just be me now: the guy who warms up to footy season in April.

I have been riding the bumps with our AFLW side and I really feel like their improvement has been outstanding. If we’d had a kinder draw against some similarly new sides we might have had a few wins. Being underdogs is exciting.

Meanwhile in AFLM being the benchmark is satisfying, not exciting. The excitement is all in the prospects of young players pushing for selection and displacing their double- and triple-premiership teammates. Dynasties don’t last much longer than this in general, so there’s every prospect of a dip in fortunes at the very least.

Grand Final: Richmond v Geelong at the Gabba Q2

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As the broadcast resumes, we are looking at the end Geelong was attacking in the previous quarter. “That’s the Geelong forward end… … … in fact the Richmond forward end”. Thanks BT. We’d seen Richmond running towards it so probably no need to say anything eh? Dave Astbury flaps at the ball like an outwitted goalkeeper and Ablett gets away, only to be run down by Pickett. Marlion Pickett is in everything tonight.
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As the broadcast resumes, we are looking at the end Geelong was attacking in the previous quarter. “That’s the Geelong forward end… … … in fact the Richmond forward end”. Thanks BT. We’d seen Richmond running towards it so probably no need to say anything eh?

Dave Astbury flaps at the ball like an outwitted goalkeeper and Ablett gets away, only to be run down by Pickett. Marlion Pickett is in everything tonight.

Rohan stops Prestia and gets a HTB free. Dangerfield is isolated on Cotchin and as Rohan’s kick comes in Cotch gives away scragging free. Dangerfield kicks the goal. 13 – 20. Geelong pressure is up and we have not come out with a good plan B. Ablett gives Dangerfield the rare one-handed high five.

Next bounce Pickett nearly cleans up Graham then seconds later Simpson’s perfect kick for Hawkins is ruined (bravely) by Dalhaus. Duncan is really generating heaps for Geelong.  We’ve had some luck with the umpires eg Nank marks a touched ball right in front of Geelong’s goal and essentially rolls in a ball like a slater. 

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Shane Edwards creates a scoring opportunity. His wide kick out of the backline sets up for Shai to beat Blicavs in a sprint, then it goes via Kam, then Prestia, Dusty (all under kilopascals of pressure), back to Edwards but his final kick is just too deep for Jack and Tom Lynch.

Astbury is getting clearly beaten while Grimes is just anonymous – he and Rohan are mostly cancelling each other out. Dangerfield has another shot (after a mark that was actually touched by Broad) but he hits it all wrong.

Stewart attacks a ball on the edge of Geelong’s 50 and kicks it high for Rohan. Grimes runs him under it. Pickett and Broad tidy up but Broad under pressure hooks the ball back into danger territory, where it falls in the lap of stationary Gryan Miers. Gryan Miers ignores traffic cop Gary Rohan, decides to play on and kicks a behind from 20 out on a 45° angle. He tucks his ridiculous dreads behind his ears.


We are under a lot of duress now but the Cats are failing to turn the screw when the opportunity is there. Fragile. Harry Taylor gets a push, adds some mayo to it and dives into the legs of Graham who knees him in the head for his trouble.  Tuohy kicks another point. After 8 minutes of complete domination their lead is only 9 points. Rioli is trying to get into the game with some 2nd-in tough-guy efforts. Dahlhaus sets up a high kick to the square to be punched through for another behind, 13-23. 

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Pickett makes a great tackle on Bews but then plays on from the free and handpasses it straight back to him. He is a big part of keeping us in this game but his mistakes are always made on centre stage.

Balta in the back pocket kicks with his scything style straight to Selwood. He slows play down, but still picks out Miers who was unmarked for ages. Miers gets Menegola, who finally kicks them another major. 13-29. It’s technically their 4th in a row but they actually have zero momentum.

Great little pass from Ablett to Selwood who pumps it down to Hawkins. Tom kicks the goal and now there’s some momentum. 13-35. “They’re going to be hard to catch” says Bruce. I’m worrying not so much about the margin but now Hawkins is up, and we are very flat, making unforced errors and letting loose men drift away.  For the first time I can visualise us losing this.

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We move it slowly after a series of bounces. A hope kick comes out of Geelong’s defence to Short, who bangs it back in and finds Shai. His set shot misses, he got too close to the mark. Balta marks the kickout, but his kick is too cute and gives Kam no chance.

Henry kicks OOF on the other side. Baker takes the kick and goes deep to the big pack. Lynch and Riewoldt have been absent from the screen all night. Now Lynch rises above the pack and smacks the sherrin into the arms of Dusty for his first touch of the term. He runs across the goalface while holding Kolodjashnij at bay and hooks the ball through the middle, giving us a lifeline for half time. 20-35.

With 55 secs left there’s another throw-in in our forward pocket. Blicavs collects the tap and is caught in a vice by a re-awakened Dusty, who flips it out of his hands. That’s probably not a free. Dusty lines up, gets some advice from Riewoldt which he ignores, and kicks the worst banana you’ll see. In lawn bowls you’d call it wrong  bias.

The siren goes as we are hunting hard another goal. Geelong’s brief spell of momentum is dead. A half of wonderful intense and skilful footy has set the stage for the main event – some rich kids with colourful hair playing derivative rock n roll. We mute the TV and go to work on the saveloys.

This play led to Lynch spilling a mark on the boundary but it’s a great little Balta and Sheds cameo.