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AFLW r4 v Geelong at Queen Elizabeth Oval, Bendigo

04/03/2020 By Chris Leave a Comment

On Saturday we met fellow strugglers Geelong at Bendigo. Queen Elizabeth Oval looked an absolute picture, one of Australia’s prettiest grandstands.There were goals each early. A very high standard 1st Q, clean hands everywhere, although not much action on this scoreboard. We trailed 7 – 9 at halftime – our goal though Courtney Wakefield on the end of a perfect pass from Phoebe Monahan.
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On Saturday we met fellow strugglers Geelong at Bendigo. Queen Elizabeth Oval looked an absolute picture, one of Australia’s prettiest grandstands.

There were goals each early. A very high standard quarter, clean hands everywhere, although not much action on the scoreboard. Our goal though Courtney Wakefield on the end of a perfect pass from Phoebe Monahan.

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Immediately in the 2nd Q McClelland goaled from a free after long hopeful bomb from Brennan. Then … a Cats clinic. Darby, McDonald, McWilliams and Cranston did as they pleased for the hoops, great hands. They had 11-2 i50s for the quarter. They kept just getting over the back of us with long kicks. I think our back six was a strength in the first two games but connection has gone missing in the 2nd quarter last week and this week. Cats got some lucky 50s [that were technically there but geez].  19-46 at half time.

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We are getting nothing from the umpies – a broken record this season. It’s odious to compare AFLW players to famous male counterparts of course but Akec Makur Chuot has some early Alex Rance about her. It’s now 19-60 and the game’s gone.

Sabrina Frederick is a big power forward but her field kicks are disappointing. When we are humming (probably round 8) we’ll be seeing Campbell or Conti or Brennan or Monahan cruising past Sabs for the handball.

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Suddenly, we pinged three in a row through Bernardi, Wakefield, Jacques, that’s our best five minutes of the season. Conti instrumental in all three.

  • McDonald kicked it straight to Bernadi on the hotspot.
  • Bernardi strong mark from a quick kick to advantage from Brennan.
  • Great forward pressure from Wakefield held the ball in f50, then Kodi Jaques followed up her own high kick, took a handball from Conti, and rolled a lovely bouncing shot over and under the defence and through the middle. 37-60 and suddenly the complexion is changing.
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Then Sabs puts in repeat efforts and is rewarded with a free, and salutes with a big roost from 40m. Its 43-61.

On the brink of 3QT Brennan was clattered by Ivey who didn’t look at the ball at any stage – chose to crunch a player that didn’t have the ball. Later Ivey was rightfully given a one week spell.

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Katie Brennan spent the 3rd quarter on the bench. “Resting a player with possible concussion – its a no brainer” says Peta Searle, awkwardly.

Grace Campbell might be a bit lippy, she seems to inspire some rough responses. Makur Chuot gives it away, Monahan and Miller collide and the Cats goal to relieve pressure. Great chain of possession ended with Wood streaming into kick her first goal and she shanks it. Another chain started by a surging Rebecca Miller ended with a Conti give-and-go and a indecisive kick, neither pass nor shot. But she’s been massive for us.

Katie Brennan was initially given the thumbs up to return to the game then suddenly, the cue was in the rack. “The Tigers brains trust have thought better of their assessment…” says Sam Lane, awkwardly.

Final score: Geelong 10 7 67 d Richmond 7 3 45

Conti had 28 touches, Monahan 20. Bernardi with just 4 touches was tagged out of it. Ella Wood had just 2 touches but 4 tackles. Wakefield took 5 marks and kicked 3 goals, more than the whole side managed in their previous games. Alice Edmonds made 32 hitouts and 4 tackles.

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The Maureen for best player
5 votes – Monica Conti
4 votes – Courtney Wakefield
3 votes – Phoebe Monahan
2 votes – Alice Edmonds
1 votes – Grace Campbell 

Leaderboard
16 Monahan
13 Conti
9 Campbell
6 Wakefield
5 Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot
2 Brennan, Edmonds, Frederick
1 Stahl

The Kate Sheahan Shield for players recruited with AFLW experience [eligible: Burchall, Bailey, Tesoreiro, Frederick, Bernardi, Conti, Whitford, Ross, Makur Chuot, Monahan]
16 Monahan
13 Conti
5 Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot
2 Brennan, Frederick

The Peggy O’Neal Claret Jug for best AFLW first year player [eligible: everyone else not in above list]
9 Campbell
6 Wakefield
2 Edmonds
1 Stahl

The Kate Dixon Grip of Death for our top tackler
19 – Conti, Jacques, Sansonetti
18 – Campbell
17 – Woodward
16 – Brennan
12 – Wakefield

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Chris 04/03/2020Filed Under: front, maureen, Uncategorized

AFLW r3 v North Melbourne at Princes Park

04/03/2020 By Lauren Cameron Leave a Comment

It seems these days, when you’re wanting a quick recipe online, you must first read the life story, and the extensive history of the author’s journey to the perfect basil pesto.

These recollections can give the reader insight into the personal life of a recipe blogger, tell tales of kitchen tricks passed down from generations, or just give a super detailed recount of a trip to a grocery store in a neighbouring suburb.

As you read through long-winded paragraphs, wondering if you will ever actually reach the ingredients section, pausing to reflect on why someone would name their child Tinsinatti, questioning if you even really need pesto anyway you may find yourself at your wit’s end.

Maybe it’s not such a big deal if the pasta and prawns are a bit dry?

I guess what I’m saying, is that right now, Richmond’s AFLW journey is shrouded in the mist of a long, complex story. It’s definitely more interesting than a trip to the supermarket, or the search for the perfect leaf of basil, but it’s a story that’s going to be tough at times.

We’re at the very beginning, and we have a bit to work through before we can feast.

Yes, I’m saying the Tigers’ rd 3 clash against the Kangaroos showed us that Richmond’s AFLW is a bit like a pesto prawn pasta without the pesto; there are some good elements to the dish, but it hasn’t quite come together. Yet.

Early in the first quarter, Daisy Pearce and Ellie Blackburn spoke in commentary about the way the Kangaroos set up around the ball at stoppages, and how this highlighted Richmond’s lack of structure in this area. This was one of several areas where North’s experience was obvious, as the Richmond players appeared desperate and at times frantic, in comparison to the calm and composed play of the Kangaroos.

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Overall, I was pretty happy with the Tigers performance in the first quarter. It was scrappy, but players such as Grace Campbell and Mon Conti showed determination and pluck throughout. The only disappointment was kicking just 3 behinds for the quarter, and not making the best of our opportunities against the super-efficient North Melbourne.

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The second quarter was a powerful display by the Roos, and really showed the gap between an AFLW team in their second season vs their first. North’s recruiting last year was widely lauded and for good reason, and this quarter was an illustration of why many (myself included) have them as favourites for the flag.

Thankfully the third quarter brought some joy, as Sabrina Frederick kicked our first for the game, a ripper of a goal as she took it from the ruck and kicked it backwards over her head. I absolutely loved her goal celebration, as she gave a massive roar and excitedly embraced her teammates. Some have criticised this celebration as ‘too much’ when your team is down by 40-odd points, but in a challenging first season, I think it’s very Richmondy to be celebrating the little victories. I think Sabrina is a great leader for our forwards, and I hope she continues to roar after every goal!

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Captain Katie followed with a goal of her own, and while she didn’t roar as such, it clearly meant a lot to her, especially as she has been facing criticism of late.

In the 4th quarter I was reminded that I really, really like Mon Conti.

Other Bits and Pieces

  • Having experienced players such as Daisy Pearce and Ellie Blackburn in commentary is fantastic, as they give great insight and perspective into AFLW. Both Pearce and Blackburn talked about the challenge of having such a short season, and how building consistency is difficult for every team, not just the new teams (Ellie was particularly nice given how many ex-Bulldogs we have on our list…sorry Ellie!) and the importance of using each game as an opportunity to learn.
  • “There are promising signs for the Tigers, they obviously haven’t been able to really impact on today’s game, but…you wanna be able to take little bits and pieces out of it…” – Ellie Blackburn. This quote reminds me of something Trent Cotchin (you may know of him) has said a bunch of times, “You win, and/or you learn.”
  • The growing chemistry between Mon Conti and draftee Sophie Molan is really exciting. I can see these two becoming a dangerous duo.
  • I felt that overall our field kicking was better in this game, which is a good sign. I would like to see more communication when players are hot, but like the field kicking, this will probably come with experience.

I thought about calling this section Ingredients but I don’t think we’re quite there, we’re still in the preamble.

I’ve waited my whole life to see women in Richmond jumpers, playing footy. At the moment, our team is learning, and the lessons are at times pretty harsh! But I’m so happy to see the story being told.

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In any weather.

The Maureen for best player
5 Monique Conti
4 Grace Campbell
3 Phoebe Monahan
2 Katie Brennan
1 Sabrina Frederick

Leaderboard
13 Monahan
8 Conti, Campbell
5 Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot
2 Wakefield, Brennan, Frederick
1 Stahl

The Kate Sheahan Shield for players recruited with AFLW experience [eligible: Burchall, Bailey, Tesoreiro, Frederick, Bernardi, Conti, Whitford, Ross, Makur Chuot]
13 Monahan
8 Conti
5 Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot
2 Brennan, Frederick

The Peggy O’Neal Claret Jug for best AFLW first year player [eligible: everyone else not in above list]
8 Campbell
2 Wakefield
1 Stahl

The Kate Dixon Grip of Death for our top tackler
19 – Conti, Jacques, Sansonetti
18 – Campbell
17 – Woodward
16 – Brennan
12 – Wakefield

Lauren Cameron 04/03/2020Filed Under: front, maureen, Uncategorized

AFLW r2 v Gold Coast at Carrara

16/02/2020 By Chris Leave a Comment

I watched most of this game on my phone, knowing the result. It clashed with cooking dinner for guests. I peeked at it and was dismayed taht after a 2-goal first quarter we got stuck in the mud – but didnt see a final score until much later. Good on the SUns jagging their first win, they were better when it counted.
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I watched most of this game later on my phone, already knowing the result. It clashed with cooking dinner for guests. I peeked at it live and was dismayed that after a 2-goal first quarter we got stuck in the mud – but I didn’t see a final score until much later. Good on the Suns jagging their first win, they were better when it counted.

Fox bring us this game with an all-male comms team. Ben Waterworth says “Position A” too much but otherwise is OK. My under 13 soccer teammate Alistair Lynch is not popular on Twitter – and I agree he doesn’t add a lot of insight.

Q1 Suns are a goal up quick smart through a soccer goal to Stanton on the end of a soccer assist from Perry, who has used body position to undo the taller Akec Makur Chuot twice already. A long kick came in over the pack.

Bernardi takes a huge mark down back – isn’t she a forward? We are making bad choices with our kicks inside 50. Suns are crisp and have cleaner hands. It’s very muggy and 30° and a bit of rain falls during the game; and we drop more uncontested marks than the Suns.

Bernardi gets another soccer goal back for us from a similar long kick over the pack from Conti, although this was lucky as it came off hands nicely. Bernardi is 5th on the AFLW all-time goal kicking ladder. We are getting on top now, with the ball held in our half for a long time. Frederick hooks a behind when there was time for her to be more composed. Grace Campbell on debut is lightning quick. Constable Alice Edmonds kicked sideways inboard to no-one and Campbell was there like a shot.

Bloodnut Molan is having a good start; she hits Tayla Stahl on the chest with a pinpoint pass. Stahl did a great job to hold her position – and kicks the goal to put us in front.

We get a 50m penalty in the centre and Campbell seizes the ball and tries to outsprint the umpie to crib a bit extra. Stahl has another shot and falls millimetres short. Sabs is unlucky with a touched ball that sailed through the middle. It’s 1.2 to 2.2. Courtney Wakefield seems to have a better gut feel for kicking inside 50 but its her that we want in there marking them.

The Suns box us into defence for the last minute. Someone kicks to Rebecca Miller on the bounce; she probably should have made ground to mark it. She takes a while to grasp it and is caught HTB. Then there’s a 50m pen as the siren goes; so scores are level at 2.2 as the girls swap ends.

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Q2 A good goal straight off to Britt Perry (a state player in cricket). Suns are leading, marking and kicking long and straight. It’s just good football and we aren’t countering it as well as we countered Carlton last week. The back six that should move around as though connected by elastic; seems to be getting isolated and lost. Mon Conti looks like she has gone up a gear from last week, out of basketball mode and ready to play footy. KB seems to be off the boil in my opinion. Campbell is prominent but plays like she is used to dominating at a lower level; attempts the impossible at times. She was 3rd in our VFLW best and fairest. 4.3 to 2.4 at half time.

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Q3 Brennan hoists a high kick and it literally lands on Sabs’ head. We are very predictable, kicks aren’t favouring her, and she’s not a mobile player. It’s just not working. Frederick marks at centre half forward then dithers until she has to play on, and is caught holding the ball. I am clutching my head now. Yorston scores a lovely goal after slick and sophisticated ball movement. Stahl marks well again, and spots up Brancatisano.

A quick aside: multisyllabic Italian names have given so much to football culture. In this team we are blessed with Brancatisano, Tesoreiro, Sansonetti, Bernardi and Conti. I hope they will have more storied Richmond careers than Renato Dintinosante (2 games, 2 losses).

Brancatisano shanks her kick and just scrapes a point. Suns lead 5.3 to 2.5 at the last change.

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Terrific centre break for us, Stahl gallops from the centre, sells the dummy and kicks to advantage for Wakefield who pulls in a great mark. She kicks to Sabs who drops the mark and gives away a free. [I don’t want to be on her case, but I am feeling a bit flat about her first couple of outings for us.] We dominate this quarter. Both teams are very tired, and the Suns are really just trying to hang on. We have plenty of chances at goal and kick 0.5 After one Bernardi miss, Alistair says “She’s cut the ears off that one” which is not a turn of phrase I’ve heard before.

The Suns do not score in the final quarter and win by 11 points.

OK, positives. Grace Campbell was very lively and should add heaps of toe to the side. Phoebe Monahan had 21 touches and did a load of work off the ball. The skipper didn’t have a great game but laid 6 tackles which is a great way to keep contributing when other parts of your game are rusty. That’s all I’ve got.

We are a quarter of the way through the home and away season. Coming up we’ve got Kangaroos, Geelong, Giants, St Kilda, Brisbane and Adelaide.

The Maureen for best player
5 votes – Phoebe Monahan
4 votes – Grace Campbell
3 votes – Monica Conti
2 votes – Christina Bernardi
1 votes – Tayla Stahl

Leaderboard
10 Monahan
5 Christina Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot, Campbell
3 Conti
2 Wakefield
1 Frederick, Stahl

10 Monahan
5 Christina Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot, Campbell
3 Conti
2 Wakefield
1 Frederick, Stahl

The Kate Sheahan Shield for players recruited with AFLW experience [eligible: Burchall, Bailey, Tesoreiro, Frederick, Bernardi, Conti, Whitford, Ross, Makur Chuot]
10 Monahan
5 Bernardi
4 Makur Chuot
3 Conti
1 Frederick

The Peggy O’Neal Claret Jug for best AFLW first year player [eligible: everyone else not in above list]
4 Campbell
2 Courtney Wakefield

The Kate Dixon Grip of Death for our top tackler
12 Sarah Sansonetti
11 Kodi Jaques, Alana Woodward
9 Katie Brennan, Phoebe Monahan

Chris 16/02/2020Filed Under: front, maureen, Uncategorized

22 new Tigers

08/02/2020 By Chris Leave a Comment

I’ve been looking forward to last night for weeks, and really couldn’t sit still as the day went by. Richmond at last made it’s debut in the 4th season of AFLW. I won’t say this often about any game of senior footy, but the four points were not the main focus.

There are so many great stories around women’s footy, and the greatest are at either end of the age spectrum.

There are the older women who have had a chance to play Australian Rules at the highest level, in front of massive crowds. And I’ll bet if you walked them back to 2013 or 2014 you’d find someone playing basketball or hockey or netball who had given up on ever being able to play footy again after ageing out at 13 or 14. This applies to Olympians like Erin Phillips but also people like Lauren Tesoreiro who was coaching netball and working in a nursery.

At the other end of the scale are girls like Alexandra. She’s 3, and went along to the footy last night with her deep-dyed-Tiger dad Jason. She will grow up not remembering a time when Richmond fielded only men’s teams. Just like boys always have, she’ll be free to dream of herself one day, big and strong, fit and fearless, wearing the yellow and black and representing Richmond. I love that it’s now a possibility.

Alexandra with proud dad Jason at Ikon Park last night

I have three minor disappointments. The least of them is the result; it would have been amazing to come out and beat last year’s finalists in our first game, with goals aplenty to cheer.

We kicked two in the last quarter, but they were cheered very hard and will always be remembered.

I am a bit disappointed in the crowd. While I’m glad no-one who wanted to be there was left stuck outside, I do wish more Tigers had gone along to see the historic game. I know plenty of Richmond members, just like the wider footy world, are skeptical about the entertainment value of AFLW.

I would just ask every Tiger to embrace it now. Don’t wait for Richmond success to get on board. How would you have enjoyed 2017 if you hadn’t endured 2016 (and the rest)? I truly believe Richmond can bring something new to AFLW, and that manic defensive pressure and chaotic attack we love will show itself sooner rather than later.

Lastly I am sad that with the heavy traffic of players going in all directions and high profile additions to the club, we go into our first season without any of our 2018 foundation VFLW leaders on the list. Kate Dixon, Elise Hogan and Jess Kennedy. Elise retired in 2018 after 4 games due to concussion. Jess won the 2018 B&F but had a quieter year in 2019 – it just looks like neither she or Kate were redrafted to the AFLW list.

I guess that’s a reminder that this is not a charity, not muck-up-day, not a sideshow. This is a national league, these women are playing for their lives, and no-one gets a game without fighting for it. But Jess, Kate and Elise will always be on the Virtual Duffle Coat.

Mae O’Reilly is writing a match report so I won’t spend long on the game itself. Our defence was under siege throughout (conceded 1.8 in the first half) but I loved how they did their jobs. Like Sudanese AFLM players, Akec Makur Chuot stands out on appearance alone, but she was outstanding in her role at fullback. I felt like watching her and Seymour, Miller, Monahan – this is a back six I can get behind and I WILL learn everyone’s names.

Our first AFLW goal came through power forward Sabrina Frederick, and it was a wonderful moment. But how was the second goal; a big blonde nº8 for the Tigers takes the contested mark then plays on, sells the dummy and steers the long kick right through the middle. It’s hokey to compare to JR8 but I’m doing it anyway, well done Courtney Wakefield.

Next week: Gold Coast. Now its about the four points.

Chris 08/02/2020Filed Under: front, Uncategorized

The 2019 season is over

04/10/2019 By Chris 3 Comments

My first feeling after the siren in 2017 was: peeved. I can’t really explain it – I had expected Adelaide to win. That’s a pissweak explanation but I have never thought of a better one.

We were visiting Tiger mates in Launceston for the occasion. We had the whole last quarter to soak up the idea that we were going to win. But for me it didn’t happen. After the siren I sent silly terse responses to congratulatory texts, and refused to sit and watch the TV with our hosts as the usual muppets like Eddie sat behind their desk and mouthed platitudes about my club. I insisted Marcus come and kick the footy with me in the gathering dark while I tried to work out what it all meant.

As days went by and Richmond were still premiers, it started to really dawn on me that the drought was over, and happiness set in. I did my bumper sticker design, everyone loved it, and by then the 2017 premiership was a landmark in my life.

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Obviously it wasn’t a long wait for the 2019 premiership, but in a way it has felt like an eternity. In August 2018 it felt like we would not only win that one but every flag for the forseeable future. I had another think coming.

This season has been marvellous. No-one wants to see injuries, especially to senior players that disrupt the whole team plan for the season – but how well did we manage it? How seamlessly did every single replacement fit in? Ross, CCJ, Egg, Balta, Marbs.

25 games from big Tom.

Stacky! Marlion Picket!! They don’t call it Punt Road for nothing.

How impressive were our senior men like Dylan and Sheds and Caddy and Bachar and Dusty and Jack in learning new roles, finding an extra gear, shrugging off their own niggles?

Leading up to the Grand Final one after another I heard players say as Cotch did: it will be nice to win another flag, but… we are building something here and that’s what we are really proud of. This kind of process-not-results talk is very common but rarely is it as convincing and authentic.

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It didn’t convince me, and that’s because I was already thinking the same way. I don’t attend any finals; so Grand Final day was going to be very similar for me whoever was playing. Might watch it, or might not (like 2018 when I chopped a lot of firewood). Tiges turned it on in the 2nd half and got over Geelong – into the granny. Nice.

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Usually we have dinner with Mum and Dad on Saturdays. I organised for them to come to lunch instead with the idea that I would wave them off at the gate, then hunker down in front of the TV with Tiger Marcus and no other distractions.

The folks decided to stay for the first quarter. And also my wife’s sister and family announced they were going to come by to watch it with me (a lukewarm Collingwood fan, a North Melb fan who can probably name twenty players on their list, my niece who will spend the game on her phone, and a yappy small dog). I forgot to set the TV to record it. All sub-optimal.

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I’ll talk about the game itself in another post. We kicked 17 goals to 3.

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I felt really weird after. I didn’t want to be with other Tigers, didn’t want to talk or read about the game, couldn’t watch a replay, bought a Sunday Age for posterity only. Thoughts that went through my mind;

  • Take a complete year off from AFL footy
  • Leave TTBB
  • Delete my Twitter account (which is very Richmond-focussed all year round).
  • Take down my footy designs on Redbubble, swerve the responsibility of doing a 2019 premiership design, and forego the income for myself and the club-endorsed charities that did well out of it in 2017.

Why did I feel like this again? I might have an answer and its bloody obvious. I think it’s missing out. It’s missing the fun, missing being there.

We attended round 23, 2013, when we sealed a first finals spot for 18 years. And I felt like I didn’t need to join the chase for finals tickets; I was happy enough to just know we were there. And it turned out to be a crushing experience anyway for those in attendance.

Since then I have stuck to my approach; I leave the finals tickets for people who have attended through thick and thin over the years. So I missed three losing elimination finals, then I missed three glorious wins, then a solid hiding handed to Hawthorn, a shocker against Collingwood, two fighting come-from behind wins over Brisbane and Geelong, then this spanking of the Giants. I have missed all of that, and been happy to avoid the anxiety, drama and expense, and the social overload of all the online Tigers I know who’ll be there.

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But that approach ends now. Next time Richmond makes the finals, whenever that is, I am going to embrace the anxiety, the chaos and all my fellow Tigers. I am coming to Melbourne.

These are all my favourite photos from the day. Hats off to the photographers. Australian Football is pretty poorly served by administrators, commentators, journalists and whatever Sam Newman is – but what a wonderful lot of snappers we’ve got.

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MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA – SEPTEMBER 28: Marlion Pickett of the Tigers kicks his first AFL goal during the 2019 AFL Grand Final match between the Richmond Tigers and the Greater Western Sydney Giants at Melbourne Cricket Ground on September 28, 2019 in Melbourne, Australia. (Photo by Ryan Pierse/AFL Media/via Getty Images )
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Chris 04/10/2019Filed Under: front, Uncategorized

2019 AFL Grand Final Match Report

01/10/2019 By Brendan O'Reilly 7 Comments

This, as always, is a personal account of the match.  As you know by now it was a win for the ages by our Tigers, but this report won’t end the way you want it to.  Sadly, our day didn’t end the way we wanted it to and I can’t pretend otherwise.

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This begins like a close Grand Final with a long period of massive pressure by both sides.  I think of Sydney v West Coast in 2005 when nobody scored for hours.  GWS attack from the centre bounce but Broad takes the first mark of the match and send them back.  Riewoldt takes an excellent mark at the other end but it’s not paid.

Caddy kicks long and it’s knocked through for a point.  The Giants win a holding-the-ball free against Dusty in the goal-square.  When he gets up, he seems to have a problem with his eye.  Cotch makes a massive tackle against Mumford in the middle of the ground but somehow the Giant wins the free.  There’s a solid chant of “bullshit…bullshit…” but on the telly you can see that Presty sort-of elbowed him in the face well after he was tackled.  I’m worried that we’ve dominated for four minutes and have no goals to show for it.

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There’s plenty to whinge and worry about.  But why whinge and boo when you could just get behind your team?  I haven’t spent days chasing tickets and two hours waiting at the gate and five hours in here before the game to stand here in silence.  And so I get the whole bay going with “Richmond!  Richmond!” and that’s all it takes and we’re all chanting our lungs out.

Mumford tackles Caddy and returns the facial contact.  “A little bit of unfriendly behaviour…it’s good to see isn’t it?” says Brian Taylor, clearly wanting to cement his grip on Boofhead of the Year Award.  

Castagna runs onto a good chance but misses and we have three points for our trouble.  The Giants attack and Pickett gets his first touch.  We can’t clear the ball and eventually the Giants get their first point.  Half the quarter has gone and it’s 0.3 to 0.1.  Pickett gets a handball on the backline, Shedda wins a free and we can clear the footy.  But then Greene marks, on an angle.  He kicks from the 50 but misses, which is a great relief.

The thought of him running rampant and kicking six goals has kept me awake at night.

With only four minutes left the quarter Cameron out-marks Grimes and kicks it from 55.  He’d better not kick too many more of them.

But we get another attack going after Lambert makes a great tackle in the middle. Advantage is paid and Martin out-marks Shaw, plays on and goals and we roar with relief.  Soldo has a chance for a mark right in front but misses it.  There’s a boundary throw-in and he grabs the footy and loses it but no free is paid against him.  Pickett gets the ball to Rioli who gathers and kicks from the 50 and the siren sounds as it splits the big sticks and our relief is great.

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At quarter time a big, older bloke, already quite drunk, says I must give him my name and he’ll put me on Facebook “Because I think you’re great.”  My team are winning the GF at quarter time, my daughter and I are here to watch it and an old drunk bloke is telling me I’m great.

Quarter time score:  Richmond 2.5.17 to GWS 1.2.8

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Riewoldt wins a lucky free for a push and kicks the goal.  From the centre bounce Soldo gets it to Pickett who takes our collective breath away with a blind turn for the ages before passing perfectly to Castagna who leaps and marks with great courage between two Giants and a giant Tiger.  It’s very similar to his mark against Geelong from Bolton’s pass, but this time he fluffs his lines and kicks another point.  It doesn’t matter because Pickett’s Blind Turn will be talked about forever.

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And in quick time Vlaustin wins the footy on the back flank, gets it to Castagna who gives it to Pickett who goes on a little run before kicking into the 50.  He looks like he plays in a GF every week, because he does.  Well, this week and last week at least.

Dusty has a couple of opponents as he gathers the ball but it doesn’t matter.  He needs a bit of room and he finds it and dribbles the ball in for another goal and a huge roar and a chant of “Dusty…Dusty…Dusty” goes up around the ground and we’re starting to enjoy this.

Houli makes a massive spoil on the boundary and follows up with a big tackle.  Rioli gathers, passes to Lynch who kicks straight as an arrow from the tight angle.  We’ve kicked five in a row and lead by 26 points.  Can we keep this up?  Could we have a handy half-time lead?

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From a stoppage Caddy kicks quickly and Riewoldt marks and goals from about 35 and we’re 29 points up.  Jack gets his third a bit later after marking easily and kicking from well outside 50.  At half-time we’re 35 up and my brother texts me “You’re home.”  I tell him not to jinx us but that I like kicking four goals to none against an interstate team in the GF.  That’s what we did to Adelaide two years ago, but only later do I realise that this time we actually kicked five.

It’s hard to imagine how much better this first half might have gone.  The Giants still have only one goal and our defenders are marking everything.  Vlaustin and Houli have been braver and tougher than ever, Toby Greene has hardly bothered us.

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Half-time score: Richmond 7.5.47 GWS 1.6.12

Castagna has his fourth shot on goal but misses again.  He’s having a great game but can’t buy a goal.  The Tigers hold up the Giants’ rebound and Lynch is set up with a perfect pass from Edwards but his kick is way off target.  Cotch passes to Riewoldt who flies and holds the footy, goes back and kicks a point.  The Giants can’t get past the half-way line though and Presty passes to Lynch who marks straight in front and kicks straight from 35.

I’m more relieved than happy.  There’s a little scramble on the boundary line in front of us, Rioli gets it to Dusty who kicks as he’s tackled and we’re up by eight goals.  Eight goals! The second half has barely started.

Pickett has only just got going too.  He gathers the ball in the centre square, runs between two rapidly-approaching Giants and passes perfectly to Martin.  Martin could kick it but he passes instead, back to Pickett who goals from about 30 and we erupt.  We’re nine goals up and every Tiger on the ground gets around the debutant and in the crowd we’re chanting “Marlon…Marlon…Marlon…”’

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And then the Pride of Preston, Kane Lambert, gathers a Shedda handball and goals and we’re ten in front.  Ten!  What has happened to the fearsome Giants?

We try to get a new chant going – “We’ve got the best Toby, in this game/ We’ve got the best Toby, in this game/ And he won’t poke you in the eye!” – but there are no takers and we chant alone. We don’t care.

Next to me, watching the game through the mesh of the barrier we lean on, is a boy of six or eight.  I show his dad my biscuit tin with the ’74 Premiership team on the lid.  “Would your boy like one of these?” I ask.   His dad says, “I think he’d better have one, I was born in 1974!”  The young boy is called Jack, after Jack Dyer, and is standing up to the rigours of standing room.

Hopper gets the Giants’ second goal – their second goal of the game – with two minutes left.  Baker, who is having a very good game, fires off a handball that finds Astbury and is flattened for his troubles by the much larger Cameron.  But when you’re nine goals up the bumps don’t hurt and Baker smiles as he gets to his feet and takes the free.

In the last minute of the quarter Richmond’s pressure forces yet another turnover. Short gets it to Caddy who passes to Soldo who kicks the set shot straight and high and we’re 62 points up at the last break.

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Three-quarter time score:  Richmond 12.9.81 to GWS 2.7.19

Himmelberg kicks the first goal of the quarter which is disappointing.  My dread now is that the last quarter will turn into a junk-time snooze fest.  The Giants might get a few back, the result will be a respectable thrashing and we’ll never want to watch this quarter again.

That’s not how Richmond play though.  We break well downfield, Picket handballs to Castagna who goes on a little run and kicks another point.  It really doesn’t matter.  The Giants’ rebound is thwarted as Shedda spoils, Lynch kicks to Bolton who marks and goals and we’re over ten in front again.  People are singing the song and Pickett kicks another bomb into the 50 which bounces off Dusty’s chest for a point.

The big, old, drunk bloke who wanted to put me on Facebook, is now standing where he shouldn’t be, blocking the view of young Jack.  Jack’s dad asks him to move and he does, eventually.

Pickett goes again, to Rioli and Jack in the goal-square, the ball spills lose and Jack gathers and goals.  The quarter isn’t half gone and the flag is ours.  Can we keep up the chanting and singing to the end?

We try our Toby chant again, to no avail.  We still don’t care.

What happened to the monsters of our nightmares in this past week?  We’ve woken up in the morning and they’re nothing but fluffy toys.

They’ve kicked 3.7 for the day and they won’t score again.  Not so much as another rushed behind.

Cameron takes a grab and could easily score but a free is given to my brother, David Astbury, for a hold.  People in their tens of thousands are singing Tigerland.  Not like at the end of the prelim in ’95 when Geelong slaughtered us.  But now because we’ve won another flag and we’ve still got minutes of footy left to enjoy. 

There’s a bit of a flat spot in play before Rioli kicks well into the middle and finds Cotchin, who plays on, takes one bounce and kicks a goal from the 50.  The crowd erupts and my daughter hugs me.  Our cake is iced and Astbury takes another mark in defence and we sing the song again.  Vlaustin gathers and kicks yet another long one to the 50.  Martin collects the footy and goals and this can’t get any better, we’ll all die of happiness.

“Dusty…Dusty…Dusty…” we sing.

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The big, old drunk bloke is back in front of us and he grabs a woman sitting alone and gives her a big sloppy kiss on her face and he gives her friend, sitting a little distance away, an equally sloppy one.  They both laugh it off, because who would want to spoil this party?

He approaches the barrier we lean on and comes towards my daughter who is next to me.  I lean towards him as she leans back and I say “Fuck off!” I feel like he’s coming in for another go and I put my hand to his chest and say “No, fuck right off!” and he does, sort of, and takes up position a yard or two from us.

The moment is spoiled.  It shouldn’t end like this but it does.  From the bounce our Toby kicks long to Jack who marks, goes back and kicks his fifth.  Everyone goes nuts again and my daughter tries to join in but she’s shattered by what the big, old, drunk bloke just tried to do to her.  She sings and cheers through her tears, which are not of joy but of fear and anger.

The ball goes back to the middle and is bounced.  We don’t hear the siren but just hear the crowd erupt and see the players explode with joy and my daughter and me are in an awful dream where something horrible has ruined this special moment.

We sing the song, again and again, and people see her crying and think it’s because she’s so happy.  And I ask, do you want to go?  And she doesn’t.  But she doesn’t want to be here, either and is scared that the revolting man will come back.

Which he does, by which time we’re packing up to go, and he leans on the barrier and says “Sorry mate,” to me.  And I think I might have said “Fuck off!” again, and I hope that I did, but maybe I just ignored him.  And he drops the bit of paper I’d given him at quarter time, with my name and the Tiger Tiger Burning Bright address on it.

My daughter doesn’t know what to do.  But eventually she finds a policewoman who listens attentively and takes a statement and says it will be investigated and finishes off with “I’m glad I could help you.  You’re a good person and it’s good to help good people.  You did the right thing to tell us about this, it’s wrong what happened and women shouldn’t have to put up with this.”

By now we’ve met up with my partner and my other daughter.  The party on Swan Street is not for us.  We find a cab and are glad to get home and see our beloved Wolfie in his Tom Lynch jumper.  We watch the first half on the tape but I’m the only one still awake by half-time.

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Full-time score:  Richmond 17.12.114 to GWS 3.7.25

Brendan O'Reilly 01/10/2019Filed Under: front, Uncategorized

2019 Grand Final – the prelude

30/09/2019 By Brendan O'Reilly Leave a Comment

I’m as shocked as anyone that our opponents will be the Giants.  There’s a kind of relief – at least we won’t lose to Collingwood.  But an even worse kind of dread – what if we lose to the Giants?  What if we were the team that let this pampered corporate confection win their first flag?

Relief too that tickets will be easier to get than if it had been the Pies.  But I miss out on the ballot on Monday, 22 years of membership counting for nothing.  I go to the Giants’ website and learn that everyone in their ballot got a ticket and now they’re giving their members a second go.  Outrageous.  But all is fair in love and Grand Final ticketing and so I try to buy a couple of Giants’ memberships.  I might not be the only one with this bright idea though and their website doesn’t seem to work.

Later I get a message from Richmond telling me that the Giants still haven’t sold all their tickets and I might get another chance on Tuesday.  And sure enough, not long after 11 the next morning I’ve snagged a standing room ticket to the big game.  The news gets better.  Still more tickets remain and my daughter, a 7-9-year member, gets a chance and just after 2pm I get her a ticket too.  Calling her to give the good news is one of the best things I’ve done.  She can’t believe we’re both going.

A bit later, a TTBB reader offers yet another ticket and I’m wondering, at this rate, will the ground be only half full?

The standing room tickets for my daughter and me are in different bays.  But based on the 2017 experience, this won’t matter at all.  In 2017 we were told we had to stick to our bays but nobody checked and instead of standing in my terrible spot at M5 I went behind the goals at M3 and there was no checking.

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The week goes quickly.  Everything in the news is about the Giants’ “physical” game, the “clumsiness “of Mumford and the menace of Greene.  Personally, I’m a bit terrified. What really counts in finals is recent form and theirs has been good.  Clearly it doesn’t bother them anymore to play in front of a hostile crowd and why would it?  They play in front of one every other week.  Their form reminds me too much of ours in 2017, coming good at just the right time.

At work I’m busy after Tuesday which has been a bit of a write-off.  There was a farewell lunch and then afternoon tea and time spent buying tickets and telling the world I’d been successful.  What a healing journey this will be – my daughter couldn’t get a ticket in 2017 and it broke her heart.

I put in a big day on Thursday and colleagues wish me well for the weekend.  Everyone hates the Giants and hopes Richmond win, even the Collingwood supporters.  But everyone is a bit afraid too, although maybe not as much as I am.

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On Friday we leave the house on our bikes at about 6.30 and catch the 6.49 from Thornbury.  Just as we did in 2017, we alight at West Richmond for a little walk down to Punt Road.  There are only a few hundred in the queue on the northern side.  In 2017 we went in on the other side and there had been 2000 in the queue, even at 7.30.  Are Richmond members becoming complacent?  Or have many more thousands got lucky with tickets and so don’t feel the need to get to training to see their boys one last time?

But by the time we get in at 8.30 a decent crowd has built up.  We sit in the stand this time and the man next to me gets me to do a live interview for 2SM in Sydney.  The world looks beautiful from up here and we say we’ll come and watch some VFL and some women’s games next year.

Eventually our boys run out and do some impressive drills and stretches.  I’m not thrilled with how Cotch looks, but I don’t say anything.  I never seem to see him running and I wonder what injury he might be carrying.  Everyone else looks pretty good though.

After half an hour they depart and so do we.  In Yarra Park there are thousands of people and we find some food, but no coffee.  After we eat, we go for coffee at a place on Wellington Parade which is under siege from the Yellow and Black and the odd Orange and Grey.  We wait a good while for a coffee but everyone is patient.

In 2017, after the last training session, we made a big mistake and sought food in the city.  By the time we got out the crowds lining the parade route were ten people deep and we couldn’t see a thing.  This time we find a good spot on the corner of the Fitzroy Gardens.  It suddenly hits me what a wonderful public holiday this is.  The road is empty of traffic and all that remains is people in their teeming thousands, enjoying each other’s company.

Eventually the parade comes along and it’s the most beautiful, daggy thing I’ve ever seen.  First come some coppers on push-bikes – not in fancy dress or anything, just riding their bikes, as is their job.  Then a magnificent pipe band – I would go anywhere to listen to the bagpipes.  And a brass band playing their theme song and ours (and the Giants do have a good song, credit where it’s due) and people on stilts in fat suits and people in fat footy suits, one of which has deflated and hangs about him like a misshapen cape.

And finally, the utes, emblazoned with Toyota mottos – even this commercialism is low-key – and the umps come first and then our players, two in each ute, many with kids on laps.  And we clap and cheer as they go by. The Giants come next and the Richmond people around us are so taken with the happy atmosphere that they even clap these evil bastards.  “They’ve done well, they’ve made a Grand Final,” one yellow-and-black clad woman says as she claps them.

We train and bike home and get the washing in before it rains.  Then I go out again to the Preston Market.  It’s only five days since I last went and it’s surprising how much stuff we need.  Ray and Pat greet me warmly at their stall.  They barrack for Carlton but have known Presti’s family for years and feel a bit invested in Richmond.  They are thrilled that my daughter and I have tickets.  Like everyone else they wish me well but think it will be a tough, hard game.

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Nobody can believe they’ve picked Pickett for his first game.  I assume they know what they’re doing, but really?  Is this a good idea?  When you could have picked premiership players like MacIntosh or Townsend?  The man at the organic stall says it’s a good decision.  “It’s good coaching.  It’s telling them all, this is just a game of footy, just go out there and play.” I suppose there’s a logic to that.

And underneath my fear and dread there’s a faint spark of hope – if they’ve picked him for his first game, he must be more than good, they must think he’s a bit special.  Maybe he is.

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I get everything we need and the evening goes by in a rush.  I make a double batch of Anzacs to put in my 1974 Premiers bickie tin, make a couple of rolls for lunch, make sure the water bottles are handy, check and check again – wallet, keys, hat, tickets.  I tumble into bed after 11 and jump up with the alarm before five.

My daughter hates getting up in the morning but she’s up by six on the Friday for training and today for the game itself. I have offered to go in early and save her a spot in standing room but she won’t hear of it.  “I want to be there early too, I want to be a part of it.” And, as it turns out, it’s lucky that she is.

We’re out of the house by 6.25.  I don’t stop and check my pack on the way, because I did so just before we left – bickies, rolls, hats, wallet, keys, phones, tickets – and we’re at Thornbury a few minutes before the train comes.  At Jolimont the Members’ queue is impressive but not quite as long, I think, as in 2017.  At our gates – 6 and 7 – nobody is waiting, so we’re first in line.  I need the toilet and soon I want a coffee but neither thing is convenient.  It’s cold and I do some lunges and stair climbing to keep warm and we do the quiz in the record and don’t go too badly.  We tackle a cryptic crossword and solve a few clues but I’m too nervous to concentrate for long.

My daughter tries to teach me a clapping game and that fills in some time.  We begin to worry about our tickets, which have different gate numbers on them.  Mine says 6 and hers is 7.  My bay is M23 and hers is M26.  But I’ve been thinking all along that we’ll ignore them altogether and head down to the Punt Road End.  I do some reconnaissance and learn that M23 is a disaster.  It’s one of those standing room “bays” that isn’t a bay at all. It’s just a section of concourse that has a barrier in front of it. Unless you are right at the front, or very tall, you won’t see a thing.  Worse, there’s nowhere to sit but flush on the floor in the five hours from when you get in to when the game starts.

M26 is more promising – it’s an actual bay with steps.  A better view for everyone and a step to sit on in those long hours.  So we decide to move up to gate 7, where there are still only a few in the queue, and head to M26.  And my daughter chooses to take the bag and be in the bag-checking line while I go in the fast lane for those without bags.

This plan work well, at first.  In I go and head to M26.  I accidentally land in M25, which is fine and I think it will suit us.  However, a staff member is onto me straight away – “Can I see your ticket?  You’re not meant to be here.  This is M25.”   I go one bay over, by which time my daughter has arrived and more trouble awaits us.  They are being completely hard-arsed about standing room this year.  They are not letting you into a bay without a wrist-band and not giving you a wrist-band unless you have a ticket for that bay.  The staff won’t move on this.

Somehow, I get into the bay anyway and we park our pack and claim our spot and try to negotiate.  I explain that we’ve waited two hours to get in, we were first in line and we simply have to stand together.  They say they appreciate this but they can’t give me a wrist-band if I don’t have a ticket for this bay.  I ask to see their supervisor but they can’t find him. Eventually the man called Luke says, “I can’t give you a wrist-band.  You’ll have to try and swap your ticket for someone who’s on their own and doesn’t mind standing in M23.”  This seems like an unlikely event.  But in the meantime, I can stay with my daughter and they’ll even let me out and back in again when I need to go to the toilet.  Which is right now.

I can’t believe the bloody-mindedness of it and I’m almost crushed by the unfairness.  In front of us are the AFL members, generally a bit more nicely-dressed than us, thousands of whom don’t even barrack for Richmond, all in their very good seats.  And my daughter and I can’t even stand together?  And I don’t even get a step to stand on?

But there’s no point dwelling on it. What counts is survival.  And I can see what the staff have done – they’ve covered themselves while letting me stay.  And my daughter and I begin to relax.

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Five hours goes by quickly.  A couple of coffees, a few trips to the toilet, an Anzac or two, some VCE Philosophy, a phone call to Mum whom I was meant to visit this weekend.  I had planned to write pages and I barely jot a line or two.

At 1.30 when I make my last toilet trip the bay has filled up.  I’m still allowed back in and I think I’m right for the game now.  We are right at the front and our view is magnificent, near the pocket at the City End.  There is some awful pre-match entertainment, including an attempt at the “World Record Crowd Noise” (brought to you by the people who have killed crowd noise).  We don’t take part and the attempt fails.  And even worse than this, “Kiss Cam” where the camera pans the crowd and zooms in on couples – or people sitting next to each other who might, possibly, be couples – and the spruiker who should be in prison urges them to kiss. What kind of sexual harassment shit is this?

Then the live music starts, which isn’t great, except for Paul Kelly who is.  Then Up There Cazaly which goes a lot better than Williamson singing Waltzing Mathilda and then the banners go up and ours is distressingly bad – something like “add another to the collection.” A bland and complacent banner if ever we saw one.  Then the anthem and then the game.

Our nerves are totally stuffed by now.  We’re tired as hell and close to losing it.  A good close game of footy is the last thing we want.

Brendan O'Reilly 30/09/2019Filed Under: front, Uncategorized

Preliminary Final Richmond v Geelong at the MCG

23/09/2019 By Brendan O'Reilly 1 Comment

7.50pm Friday 20 September 2019 MCG On Monday, when prelim tickets go on sale, I’m on the work computer at 9am, seeking “best available” tickets for my daughter and me. Work is very busy and I can’t stuff around looking for the best seats on Level 4. I’m rewarded with bloody good seats in good time – M12, bottom deck, eight rows from the fence. The weather forecast though, is terrible and these seats are in the open. It’s going to bucket down on Friday, especially in the afternoon and at night. That will be all right though. We’ll just get to the ground early and get good spots in standing room, under cover. We’ll have a paid a fortune just to stand up, but that’s how it goes. Should we make the GF I might not get a ticket and my daughter isn’t even in the ballot. So, the prelim is our big game and surely worth the money.

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7.50pm Friday 20 September 2019
MCG
On Monday, when prelim tickets go on sale, I’m on the work computer at 9am, seeking “best available” tickets for my daughter and me. Work is very busy and I can’t stuff around looking for the best seats on Level 4. I’m rewarded with bloody good seats in good time – M12, bottom deck, eight rows from the fence.

The weather forecast though, is terrible and these seats are in the open. It’s going to bucket down on Friday, especially in the afternoon and at night. That will be all right though. We’ll just get to the ground early and get good spots in standing room, under cover. We’ll have a paid a fortune just to stand up, but that’s how it goes. Should we make the GF I might not get a ticket and my daughter isn’t even in the ballot. So, the prelim is our big game and surely worth the money.

And by Thursday the forecast has improved out of sight – there will be no rain until Saturday.

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It’s a tough week at work and I’m exhausted by Thursday. The Climate Strike is on Friday and I think I will go and then I think I’m too busy and that I can’t. But on the 6.06 Hurstbridge train on Friday morning I read about the world-wide day of action and decide I have to be a part of it. And at work I’m efficient and ruthless and I get everything done that I really need to and I catch the 2.01 to Jolimont. I’ve got three days off now, the sun is shining, the breeze is warm and I join a huge crowd of the young and the old in the Treasury Gardens and the very sight of their sprawling mass and the great sound of their chanting and cheering makes me weep.

I’ve had my bike on the train and when the rally breaks up, I ride home, uphill and into the wind. I’m at home a bit after five and step into dog vomit just inside the door. I spread it up the hallway before I realise what I’ve done. Nothing for it then but to de-boot, glove-up and scrub that floor clean. It doesn’t take too long. The dog, Wolfie, appears to be perfectly well and I’m glad he hasn’t spewed on someone’s bed.
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My daughter – the Richmond supporter – doesn’t have a phone and isn’t at home yet. She’s in year 12 and has had a tough last week of term. But like our boys hope to do tonight, she’s finished strongly. But where is she? I have a feeling I will be going to the footy alone, with an expensive, spare ticket in my pocket. But using a seldom-used bit of technology known as an APP – A phriend’s phone – she calls before six and we arrange to meet at Betty Cuthbert at seven.

I charge out of the house with a hastily packed bag, wearing two scarves and lugging my daughter’s duffle coat, a good bit after six. I run half the way to the tram stop which is just as well as a tram comes very soon. On my phone I check the train times and decide to alight after two stops and leg it to Thornbury Station. There’s a train at 6.31 and my own calculations tell me that it will get to Jolimont at about ten to seven.

It’s crowded, mostly with Richmond supporters. At Jolimont we all get off and I find my daughter at Betty Cuthbert’s feet, reading the Record. The lines move quickly, even the bag-checking line, and we’re in the ground in no time. When we played the Cats in the Qualifier in 2017 those lines were endless. Maybe we’re a bit earlier tonight.

My daughter asks if we’re standing up. No, I say, sitting. In quite good seats. She can’t believe how good they actually are, about 60 metres from the goals at the Punt Road End. But you pay a price, greater than dollars, for these seats. Our fellow Richmond supporters are almost silent. They are happy to bag the umpires and boo the opposition, but that’s about it. They won’t break into a chant to save their lives. And it must be true, as I read on the train this very morning, that the richer you are the less you connect to other people. The music is as loud and obscene as ever, but Nirvana’s song seems very apt – “Here we are now, entertain us…” My fellow supporters have parted with their hard-earned and expect the Tigers to deliver them a Grand Final. They won’t help cheer and sing them over the line though. Oh no. They’ve paid their money and expect a return, no further effort on their part is required.
First Quarter

Cotchin wins the toss and chooses the Punt Road End, which is unusual. Usually he likes to kick to the City End first. But there’s a good breeze blowing outside the ground, toward the City End, and maybe he wants to come home with the wind. His choice makes us nervous and we can’t help but think of the qualifier against Port in 2014.

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Early in the game Ellis makes a great spoil on the half-back flank and I’m glad he’s in the side and intends to stay there. Then Cotch gets it to George who misses from not too far out. A bit later Riewoldt fumbles, Geelong rebound and Ratugolea takes a huge mark on the wing. He is one Geelong player who is truly frightening. With three minutes gone Ablett scores at the Punt Road End. It’s a goal but there’s a long score review before the match can continue.
I preferred the old system of trusting the goal umpires and then bagging them all week when they got it wrong. That seemed to work for everyone.

Geelong are on top and I don’t like it and there is much moaning in M12. But then Richmond attack, Rioli kicks to Martin who runs back, marks and goals and we all feel better.
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Graham makes a great break from the middle, kicks to Lynch who marks and kicks the goal from 48 meters. His kick is high and straight and aren’t we glad we picked up this feller?
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Dusty goes off the ground for some reason, Soldo taps the ball to Presty who kicks it long to the goal-square. How short the ground seems when players run straight out of the middle and bomb it long. And when you have Lynch in the goal-square who can fumble the mark but kick the goal anyway. Tigers lead 3.1 to 1.0 and it’s going to be our night.

Ratugolea out-marks Toby but misses from 45 out. I love Toby to pieces but he seems to be shorter, lighter and slower than Ratugolea. But then, most people are. Presty, who is already having a great game, kicks it to Caddy who marks but kicks a point. Geelong attack in a very controlled, relentless fashion, all skill and possession and clean marking – I mean, who needs it? Eventually they go long and direct, Grimes spoils but Kelly snaps and goals from 45 out and they’re back in it.

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Graham has come off the ground and one of the blokes in front of us, who is wired for sound, says he’s dislocated his shoulder. This is terrible news. This is going to be a tough game and he’s one of our toughest players. He won’t be doing any more tackling tonight.
The Cats attack again, Grimes tries to clear but Miers scores and it’s three goals each and the Cats have the momentum and their supporters, whom we clearly outnumber, are making a great noise. They actually seem to have some good chants going, something like “Geelong – kick it long!” Even when we had our three goals in a few minutes M12 was almost silent. The whingeing when Geelong are doing well is much louder than the cheering when it’s going our way. What does that say about people?’

Soldo takes a great mark in defence and the Tigers make a fast break but in the middle of the ground Ellis hands the ball to Toohey, which is a mistake. We win the ball back, Riewoldt marks on the forward flank, kicks short to Cotch who is tackled and is holding the ball. We’ve made some basic mistakes and our game might be unravelling. To underline this, Geelong get another through Miers who appears to be doing as he pleases. The siren goes with Geelong a goal up and well and truly on top.

Quarter time score: Richmond 3.3 – Geelong 4.3

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At the very start of the second term Kelly goals from 45 out and Geelong are two goals up and we look a bit hopeless. Guthrie evades two tacklers in the middle of the ground, Blicavs wins a holding-the-ball free against Lambert, but misses an easy shot. Unlike their massacre of us in round 12, the Cats are actually missing a few shots. But they are still killing us. They seem to be winning the ball more and doing smarter stuff with it.

Vlaustin turns over the footy in the back-line but Selwood misses the easy chance this affords him. Bad luck Joel. Geelong have had 16 out of the last 18 inside 50s. But Graham has reappeared on the bench with his shoulder taped up. We’re still under siege though and Lambert is lucky not to be pinged for deliberate when he goes over the line as he’s tackled.

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Geelong attack again and Miers wins a very soft free for in-the-back against Baker, who is smaller and much lighter than him. If such a little bloke can push you around what are doing playing AFL?

Richmond finally launch an attack but Bolton misses quite an easy snap. We’re looking a bit better than we were. Graham is back on but evidently has only one arm. We clear the ball well from defence, Cotch completely outwits Ablett on the boundary and soccers it beautifully to Ellis who kicks to Martin who marks but misses from close range. We really needed that one.
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Geelong rebound from defence and Narkle scores easily and this looks like one of those nights. Geelong are 19 points up. Nothing works for us, everything goes right for them. Cotchin is limping and the whingeing and moaning in M12 is insufferable.

Richmond attack well but Lambert’s kick goes down the throat of Kolodjashnij. Another good attack results in Martin giving the footy away after a great run down the wing. Broad is doing well and makes a great spoil against Ratugolea in the forward pocket. The Tigers rebound and Houli, who is having a good game, kicks perfectly to Castagna, 30 from goal. There is much grizzling in M12 about what a dud set-shot for goal George is. But he goes back and kicks it. It’s a goal we really, really needed but if you think that would fire up M12 you’d be wrong. People barely clap.
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Richmond are definitely looking better but Grimes’ clearing kick is marked by Stewart who sends it straight back in. It sails over a pack of players, from the front of which Dangerfield dives like Dan from Sea Change. The umpire calls “Push!” but doesn’t say whose ball it is. Houli assumes it is his, as he actually had some physical contact from an opponent. Cotch gives him the footy but the umpire says, no, it’s a Geelong free and now it’s 50. So, Danger is gifted a goal.

I hate to criticise the umpires. I umpired a game once when I was eight and I’ve never gotten over the trauma. But this is a stinker of a decision. The umpire never said whose footy it was. So how can it be wrong to give the ball to a Richmond player?
So, plenty to sook about at half time. After we were looking a bit better, we are now 21 points down again. It could be a lot more if Geelong had kicked straight, but we missed some sitters too, so it might be less.

Half-time score: Richmond 4.5 to Geelong 7.8

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My daughter and I decide that we really don’t like our fellow Tiger supporters in M12. They have paid all this money and all they do is whinge. They never join in a chant and every mistake by an umpire is worth ten minutes of moaning, even while play goes on and even if Richmond might be doing well. And the man next to my daughter called the umpire a faggot and his girlfriend called someone retarded and this is what “Best available” seating gets you.

We don’t know what to do. My daughter suggests making eye contact with a few people and asking them nicely to be “chant buds.” Get a few going and the rest will follow. But I don’t have the nerve and so we go into the second half without a plan to make things better.
The Tigers, however, do have a plan. From the first bounce they attack with fury and skill. Cotch lays a big tackle in the square, Prestia gets the footy and kicks long to Lynch who marks and goals from 30 out and we can say, “We couldn’t have started any better.” It’s been so quick that our fellow supporters have almost nothing to whinge about and I’m out of my seat and in the aisle with my back to the ground, shouting and waving my arms. “Richmond! Richmond! Richmond!” And this is all it takes. In every row of seats a few people join in. Still a minority, but what a happy crowd we are. “Oh, so this is what you can do at the footy,” they seem to be thinking.

By the time I sit down again I’m faint with the effort, but it’s been worth it. And clearly our boys are appreciating this extra bit of barracking because they go in a bit harder and force a Geelong clearing kick out on the full. Martin gets the footy and kicks it high to Lynch who out-marks two defenders but misses the easy set shot. As Geelong rebound, Houli gathers the ball in the middle, handpasses to Short who evades two Geelong players and kicks deep into the forward line. Lynch can’t mark it but Martin crumbs the spilled ball and goals and we’ve got two in two minutes and are only eight points down.

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And I’m in the aisle again, shouting and clapping and getting people going again until I’m too faint to stand up. And what a difference it’s made. People are joining in all over the place, still a minority, but a bloody noisy one. Who knew that this was all it took?

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We are getting even better though. With only a second to put the ball on his boot, Bolton passes perfectly to Castagna. He finds the exact spot between two big Cats that George bravely flies into, with no thought for his safety. He holds the mark, of course, and nails the set-shot, of course, and there’s only a point in it. And I’m out in the aisle again, shouting and waving my arms again and heaps of people are joining in, and isn’t this fun when we’re playing well and you actually feel like you’re a part of it?

With six minutes left in the quarter Lynch puts us in front with his fourth goal. The build-up to this is magnificent, an endless series of pressure acts and tackles and a simple refusal to let Geelong clear the footy. Eventually Narkle almost breaks free but runs into The Great Wall of Cotch. The ball spills loose, Baker gets it to Shedda who kicks it to Caddy in a bit of space near the boundary. Caddy gathers calmly and passes to Presti in the pocket who centres the ball to Lynch. The big feller flies against four opponents, is held onto but marks anyway. He kicks the goal from fifteen out and we’re in front and going nuts, even in M12.

But I need to note that the glass-half-empty trio in front of us are booing the umpire even as Lynch lines up his set shot.

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But it’s not all going our way. The ball is kicked into our backline, players go down and Miers wins a free. Broad is on the ground, concussed, and is helped from the ground by the overworked trainers. Our luck really has turned though and Miers misses.
The ball is on the wing at the bottom of a pack with Martin on top of it. Somehow, he gets out from under a great pile of Cats and brings the footy with him. I could watch this reply fifty times but I could never explain how this is possible. He gets the ball to Castagna who passes to Lynch who kicks to Prestia who marks a good distance out. In the face of the relentless Tiger pressure the Cats should have conceded a fifty but the umpire hasn’t noticed. It doesn’t matter because Prestia kicks a booming goal from 48 meters and we’re up by 10 points.

As a footnote to this, after Martin’s Contested Possession for the Ages, he finds himself tackled over the boundary line, near the interchange bench, so he just gets up, walks a few steps to the bench and sits down. Job done.

Half an hour ago it all looked pretty hopeless and I was making mental health care plans for myself for the next few weeks. Now we’re roaring and I think there’s just more good stuff to come. But Henderson marks and goals for the Cats just before the break and they’re back within a goal.

Is this the start of their fightback or a mere blip against our run?
Three-quarter time score: Richmond 9.7 – Geelong 8.9

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The last quarter begins well. Prestia wins a free kick in the middle and kicks it long. A pack flies, Shedda crumbs it, kicks perfectly to Lambert who marks, runs into an open goal and scores. Tim Kelly, who hasn’t gone away, gets one back for the Cats and it seems like they still want to make a fight of it. Ablett has a chance to put them back in front after out-marking Baker, but he misses.

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Geelong attack again but Ellis wins the footy just outside the defensive 50, gets it to Houli who give it to Prestia who gives it to Caddy. Caddy kicks long to Lynch who marks almost un-opposed and kicks his fifth and were up by 11 points again. And after each of our goals I’m out in the aisle again and M12 are making some noise. And then I’m sitting down again before I fall over with light-headedness.

Riewoldt marks on the boundary, kicks and celebrates and the Tiger crowd at the City End go up with him and I’m out in the aisle again and shouting and waving my arms to an un-moved audience. “It wasn’t a goal mate,” someone says, and I skulk back to my seat.

Soldo takes a great mark in defence and has been having a very good night. With six and a half minutes left Jack Graham has a chance to win the game for us but misses on the run. It doesn’t matter, because not long after Bolton grabs the footy and handpasses to Prestia who goals from 40 out. We’re three goals up and there’s five minutes left and we’ve kicked 8.6 to 2.3 since half-time.
Riewoldt wins a holding-the-ball free kick but misses and we’re up by 19. Geelong get another point when Lachie Henderson helpfully touches a kick that would have been a goal. At the very end Castagna has a set shot that doesn’t miss by much and we’ve won by 19.

We scream and roar and sing the song, even the naysayers and the whingers in front of us sing it. And people high-five strangers and say, see you next week, if only that could be true.

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On the telly, Hawkins looks so sad that I feel sorry for him. On the field he’s a giant I want slain, in the coach’s box he’s just a fellow human who’s stuffed up and paid a great price.

Winners can afford such generous thoughts.

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This has been the night of nights. From so far behind and playing so badly to right in front a quarter later. And then such a strong finish. We’ve won 11 games in a row since the bye and we’ve beaten the Cats in a final, again. And we’re in a Grand Final, apparently, against Collingwood or the Giants and maybe we could even win that too.

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I sing the song as we leave but nobody joins in. And our crowd is very different to 2017. We left the prelim that night and everyone – everyone! – was glowing like new parents. Smiling from ear to ear, bursting into song all over the place. Not tonight though. There seems to be a feeling of, “Well what else do you expect?” On the crowded train home there is no bursting into song, like the carriage-full of strangers did in 2017. People are just chatting quietly and looking at their phones and, I know we all follow our own path, but I think we should be a bit happier and celebratory.
It’s not every night you get into a Grand Final.

It’s not every night you pay Geelong back, just a little bit, for the Waverley Massacre in the ’95 prelim.

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We walk home from Thornbury Station full of love and dis-belief. My partner and daughter are in bed but Wolfie greets us and brings out his toy to show how happy he is that we’re home. I make my daughter a cup of tea and I pour myself a beer and we watch the second half on the tape and it’s no more believable on the telly than it was at the ground.

Best players: Lynch, Houli, Prestia, Martin, Edwards, Grimes, Vlaustin, Baker, Soldo. Can I name the whole team? Everyone has done their job. Bolton didn’t have a great game but several of his kicks and touches were gold. Ellis has been great. Broad was great before he was knocked out. Graham, as Dimma says at the presser, will have a chapter written about him in the history of the club. Castagna has been very good too, marking heroically against much bigger opponents and kicking calmly under pressure.

I just love the way this team plays and I love how hard it is to pick our best players. And I love how we’ve passed every test since the bye, since Geelong and Adelaide flogged us in early June.
But there’s still one game to go. I’ve missed out on the ballot, but have another chance to buy a ticket tomorrow. I’ve tried and failed to get a Giants membership this morning, but I seem to be not the only one trying that trick at the moment.
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Benny Votes

Lynch 5, Houli 4, Prestia 3, Martin 2, Edwards 1

Leaderboard

Martin 52
Houli 49
Vlastuin 37
Lynch 33
Grimes 31
Edwards 29
Prestia 26
Stack 18
Lambert 17
Ellis 13
Cotchin, Bolton 7
Castagna, Soldo 6
Nankervis, Graham 5
Baker, Broad 4
Chol 3
Astbury, Ross, Naish 2
Rioli, Balta 1


Blair Hartley Appreciation Award: for players who have joined Richmond from another club
(Eligible 2019: Caddy, Grigg, Houli, Lynch, Nankervis, Prestia, Townsend and Weller)
Houli 49
Lynch 33
Prestia 26
Nankervis 5

Anthony Banik Best First Year Player: for anyone who was yet to debut before round 1
(Eligible 2019: Balta, Coleman-Jones, Collier-Dawkins, Miller, Naish, Ross, Turner, Stack)
Stack 18
Ross, Naish 2
Balta 1

Joel Bowden’s Golden Left Boot:for left footers
(Eligible 2019: Chol, Grigg, Nankervis and Houli)
Houli 49
Nankervis 5
Chol 3

Greg Tivendale Rookie List Medal:
upgraded from the rookie list during the current season
(Potentially eligible 2019: Aarts, Baker, Chol, Eggmolesse-Smith, Stack, Townsend, Weller)
Stack 18
Baker 4
Chol 3

Maurice Rioli Grip of Death Trophy:
For the Tiges top tackler in 2019

Prestia 120
Graham 113
Castagna 75
Edwards 69
Lambert 67
Vlastuin 66
Baker, Bolton 61

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Brendan O'Reilly 23/09/2019Filed Under: benny, front, Uncategorized

ends & beginnings (& all the stuff in between)

19/09/2019 By Dugald 4 Comments

Monday afternoon, I thought of Yeatesy. Wrote about him. Look me up if you”re on Facebook, have a read. This is football, this is life. See the comments. The crowd gathers around one of us. We’re all in this together.

Yesterday I did something I’d been meaning to do for the longest time. Published a website for my latest venture. It’s a work-in-progress, but it feels right, building other communities in other ways, doing something to try and make a difference. Many have helped along the way, and none of this is forgotten. I Posted about it also:


Hasn’t been easy since being de-listed from footy writing, but I’ve found a way. Have had to. Nobody likes being pushed, not when they think they’ve still got a few more words in them, a few more stories.

Endings are not always of our choice.

Last night, celebrating a new beginning by sorting-out loose ends, I came across a folded piece of paper that I’d long forgotten. A sting of words put down, an idea in the telling. Reminded of tomorrow night, of what a game of football might be; a series of contests, each of equal importance, needing to be halved or won for the ball to go the right way.

Straight from the jottings – and please excuse my scrawl – it reads like this:

31 seconds left in the third quarter

Richmond 7 points up

Dave Astbury mops up a loose ball in defence and on his right foot chips to the wing,

On the head of Dusty

4 against 44

“Now that’s a fifty-fifty maybe, Stewart vee Martin”

Dusty drops an overhead mark, Stewart leads the ball to the boundary, overruns it and it lands in Dusty’s lap.

Element of luck.

As Stewart doubles back, Dusty – our Dusty – clutching the ball in his right, hunched, turning, extends his left arm, pushes an off-balance Stewart on the shoulder and all the possibilities of the game open up.

Bruce goes guttural.

“Dusty, awww Dusty, that is classic Dusty.”

Two bounces in space, running up the outer wing, all us Richmond crowd roaring him on, a crescendo, a release – the game in the balance, a whole history of defeat and despair and loss to be cast aside – a single act, a dance, making space, a moment of the sublime – him, it had to be him, all power and grace in open terrain, thumping the ball into the ground with each bounce, his Geelong counterpart sprawled on the grass, outwitted, outplayed, outfoxed by our main man.

Jack Riewoldt cameo: spearing pass to Dion Prestia, unattended at the top of the goal square, and the crowd behind the posts at the Punt Road end are on their feet, erupting in untrammelled euphoria.

All the emotions, all that star-crossed history, is released and banished there and then.

We have Dusty. We have this football team. We have all the parts of a beautiful sum.

On this night, for this moment, we have the whole world at our feet.

A scribbled down idea, a beginning, an end.

**

Cleaning up the house this afternoon I came across a photograph of me, running. Soft golden light, the long shadows on a late Saturday winter’s afternoon. A last game for an old team of mine, the Cooma Cats. Snowy Oval, remember it well. A friend took the picture. She’s now back home, in Canada.

That’s me running from the backline, head up, maybe raising my voice, wanting to be heard.

We all get old.

Do it while you can, and do it for as long as you can. Run, run, run.

Playing days: me in the middle ground, a tiger wearing a cat’s clothes.

**

Our boys will win on Friday night, not because we are cocky, but because a fire of regret burns still inside. The lived experience of last year remains raw. What does not kill us, etc.. An opportunity lost, a season unfulfilled.

Our boys will win because enough of them are still hurting, and all the others are hungry, and because as a group they have confronted and overcome adversity. New players have been given an opportunity and all have risen to the occasion. Most of the older players are playing as well as they ever have, some even better.

Run, run, run,

New bonds have been forged. Respect and admiration is renewed, again and again. It comes from courage, and grace, and humility. It comes from each player playing for each other, as a team, which in turn means each of them plays for us.

Our boys will win, not because it is written in the stars, not because it is a right, because they are entitled, nor because many expect them to, but because they know every little moment matters and none of it can be wasted. Time runs out. Not a moment can be lost.

This Friday night, it will all be gained.

Dugald 19/09/2019Filed Under: dugald, front, Uncategorized

Round 23 v Brisbane at the MCG

10/09/2019 By Brendan O'Reilly Leave a Comment

Sunday 25th August 3.20pm
The start time is very significant, for a while. I have a friend who’s written a play and the last performance is in Elwood at 6.30 on this very night. Can I get from the ‘G to Elwood by 6.30 if I stay and watch the whole game? I look at various possibilities and the answer is no. Eventually I compromise with myself and work out that I can leave the ‘G at 4.40, ride to Richmond Station and catch a train to Elsternwick which will get me there in time. I’ll miss much of the last quarter and I hope that we’ve got the match won by then.

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Sunday 25th August 3.20pm
The start time is very significant, for a while. I have a friend who’s written a play and the last performance is in Elwood at 6.30 on this very night. Can I get from the ‘G to Elwood by 6.30 if I stay and watch the whole game? I look at various possibilities and the answer is no. Eventually I compromise with myself and work out that I can leave the ‘G at 4.40, ride to Richmond Station and catch a train to Elsternwick which will get me there in time. I’ll miss much of the last quarter and I hope that we’ve got the match won by then.

All of this planning is academic in the end because I miss the footy and the play. In the morning my partner comes off her bike on the steep hill just near our house. She’s alive and hasn’t broken any teeth or bones and her brand-new bike is un-marked. But she’s lost a lot of skin from her chin, hands and knees and in no state to cross town for her friend’s play that evening. So I stay home to look after her and I watch the footy on delay – the second half after dinner, the first half on Monday night.

It appears to have been a cracker of a game. Brisbane, we need to remind ourselves, were top of the ladder. I ought to mention too that I once played Gaelic football with their coach, Chris Fagan. At least, I think I did. He used to play for Hobart – my team – in the Tasmanian Football League and his brother was in my sister’s class at Dominic College. And one day, for some reason, Chris joined us for PE when we played the Irish Code. At the end he said he found the round ball hard to get used to.

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To finish in the top four, we need to beat Brisbane, as we needed also to beat the Giants and the Eagles, both of whom looked formidable at the time. And Brisbane look good today, getting the first goal in the opening minutes. But Dusty soon puts things to rights. Soldo grabs the ball in the middle, handpasses to Prestia who gives it to Martin who runs to the edge of the centre square and unloads a bomb from 60 metres.

We keep playing well but Castagna misses an easy shot from 30 out after Ellis completed a good chain of passes. Who is this team who pass the ball so well and so quickly? When I watch other teams play – the St Kildas and the Melbournes, or especially if I remember the Tigers of the Wallace and early Dimma years – I am reminded that this is exceptional footy and not to be taken for granted.

After a great bit of Tiger pressure on the wing Lambert gets the footy and kicks long into the 50. Riewoldt is one-out with his opponent but the ball doesn’t bounce his way. Nonetheless he gets a boot to it. Balta goes in hard, gathers, gives it to Rioli who kicks with the outside of his boot from 35 out and we’ve got another. Prestia who has started very well, again, finds Castagna all alone with a beautiful long pass. George’s bad start continues though as he runs in under little pressure and misses.


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Rioli is tackled by Zorko and manages to get a kick away but still has a free awarded against him. None of our players whinge too much because they know there’s no point. The crowd is building and BT keeps telling us that it could be a record crowd for a game featuring a team from interstate.

Vlaustin is playing very well, again, and takes a great mark, going back with the flight of the ball.

He intercepts another Brisbane attack and handpasses to Castagna – the RFC forwards are working very hard to help out their defenders. Castagna’s kick finds Soldo in the centre who handpasses to Dusty who passes long and beautifully to Riewoldt. Jack kicks the goal and we’re up 3.2 to 1.1. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, I have never seen a player pass the ball as well and as often as Dusty. I’ll remember forever his 60-metre effort that found Grigg in the goal-square in the last quarter of the 2017 final against Geelong. It was so precise that Grigg didn’t have to move. Just held his ground, marked it and kicked the goal.

Richmond take it up another notch after the centre bounce. Soldo’s tap finds Martin, who handpasses to Presty whose kick finds Riewoldt who goes back and kicks another. Each player in the chain had a solid quarter of a second to decide what to do and then to do it. This is a team in good form.

With five minutes left in the term Ellis finds Riewoldt who marks and goals from 35 out. He’s got his kicking boots on today. The Tigers’ passing is lightning-fast at times and their defenders are winning everything.

Brisbane win the ball on their own 50 but Caddy stops them with a brilliant smother. But then Hipwood, one of the Lions’ two tall, lean forwards, kicks a set shot from a tight angle and cuts the lead to 19 points. Riewoldt wins a bit of a lucky free and goals from 15 out and he’s got four for the quarter and we’re four goals up again.
In this quarter it’s been a solid and at times, brilliant, team effort, but our best players have been Riewoldt, Presty, Martin, Vlaustin and Soldo.

Quarter time score: Richmond 6.2.38 to Brisbane 2.1.13
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At the start of the second term Hipwood marks and goals to give the Lions hope. Baker is playing well on the back line though and seems to be foot taller than he really is. He has all the skills and all the guts you want in a player. Grimes seems to be fine too and is easily beating Cameron.

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There’s a long period of stalemate after the goal-fest in the first, but then the Lions get another goal and our lead is 16 points. Lynch marks on the 50 and inexplicably handpasses to Short who kicks from 60 and doesn’t make the distance. One thing that Lynch seems to have done all year is take responsibility and go back and kick his set shots. But maybe in round 23 he’s had enough of doing that?

Castagna shakes off his kicking yips with a goal from close range after Cotch won a free for being pushed under the ball in a marking contest. Then Lambert, our hard-working hero, takes a pass from Caddy and kicks the set shot from 45 out on a bad angle. We’re up by 28 and there’s six minutes left in the half.

Bolton takes a great mark and sets off on a run but comes a cropper as he tries to squeeze between two Lions who are rude enough not to let him through. I’m reminded of Blight when he coached the Crows in the 90s and he’d tell his players, “I don’t care if you get caught holding the ball.” He was happy for them to take the game on. It’s an even game now but the Tigers have been much more efficient in attack.
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Cameron Rayner takes a good mark for the Lions but misses from 40. The Tigers make a great break from defence but Lynch has a free paid against him, literally because his opponent fell over. If anything, Lynch should have gotten the free, but there it is.

Brisbane get a 50 as well but Grimes takes a great saving mark in defence and the quarter ends without another goal.

Half-time scores: Richmond 8.6.54 to Brisbane 4.4.28

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Brisbane get right back into the game in the third term. Zorko gets an early one for them and then another with only three minutes gone and we’re only 14 points up. Riewoldt marks on an angle but kicks out on the full. With the quarter half gone Cameron gets away from Grimes at last and it’s only seven points to us. Brisbane have kicked five of the last seven goals and something needs to be done.
Astbury – my brother-in-law’s cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend – takes a very good intercept mark in the back line. A great chain of Richmond passes ends with Rioli on the 50 who kicks to Lynch right in front who kicks his first goal of the game and something indeed has been done.

With a minute left in the quarter Lambert goals on the run on quite an angle. It was a beautiful series of passes that eventually found him – Cotch stole the ball from a ball-up, handpassed to Castagna who handpassed to Riewoldt who gave it to Lambert. We’re 19 points up now and looking a lot better.

We attack again but the siren goes with the ball in the air in our forward 50 and Dusty one-out with Hodge. The commentators make much of how relieved Hodge would have been to hear the siren.

Three-quarter time scores: Richmond 10.7.67 to Brisbane 7.6.48

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Lachie Neale has had 40 disposals to three-quarter time which is some achievement.

We kick to the Punt Road End in the last and it starts well when Dusty pounces on a slight fumble by the Lions defenders and goals and we’re 25 points up. Vlaustin takes another strong mark in defence and Leigh Mathews says of him, “He doesn’t even think about spoiling, he just marks it.” That sounds like our Tigger all right.
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With 12 minutes gone Richmond win the game with a beautiful passage of play. Rioli gets it to Soldo who gives it back to Rioli on the 50. Rioli kicks to Lambert who marks right in front. But Ellis is steaming in from the side, un-attended, and Lambert dishes it off to him. Ellis almost kicks the ball over the Olympic Stand and Richmond lead by 31 points. I’m really amazed at how quick and mobile Soldo is for such a tall man.

Cameron pulls one back for the Lions who now trail by 25 and Richmond need to win by six goals more in order to jump over the Lions into second spot and get a home final against them.
Lachie Neale gets his 50th possession and then his 51st. I’m not sure who was playing on him, but I’m glad it wasn’t me. Near the end Lynch marks but hits the post and then Hipwood does the same at the other end and we’ve won by 27 points and got ourselves the double chance for the third year in a row.

Final Score: Richmond 12.10.82 to Brisbane 8.7.55

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The crowd was 76,995 which is an Australian record for a home and away game between teams from different states.

This has been a very solid win against a very good team. Richmond haven’t lost a game since the bye, which they went into with some wobbly form – they had been very well beaten by North, Geelong and Adelaide. Actually, we were destroyed by Geelong and our season looked a mess. We look like a different team now. And with Soldo getting into the swing of things in the ruck, Cotch also finding his way back in and newer players like Baker, Balta, Bolton and Short showing a lot of promise, I have a feeling that this team can get a lot better.

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My best players were Martin, Vlaustin, Grimes, Soldo, Prestia and Lambert. But once again, I find this very hard. Everyone played well, again. The other defenders were outstanding, again. Where would we be without Houli?

In The Age on Wednesday Dylan Grimes says that he was feeling overwhelmed as the main tall defender after those losses. But rather than bottle it up and try to get on with things on his own he came to the club on the Monday and told everyone “I feel overwhelmed and I need more help.” And lo, by naming our horrors they disappear. His team-mates got around him, on-field and off, and Richmond won every game after that.

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Benny Votes

5 Martin, 4 Vlaustin, 3 Grimes, 2 Soldo, 1 Prestia

Leaderboard

Martin 47
Houli 45
Vlastuin 37
Grimes 30
Lynch 28
Edwards 23
Prestia 19
Stack 18
Lambert 17
Ellis 13
Cotchin, Bolton 7
Castagna 6
Nankervis, Graham 5
Baker, Broad, Soldo 4
Chol 3
Astbury, Ross, Naish 2
Rioli, Balta 1


Blair Hartley Appreciation Award: for players who have joined Richmond from another club
(Eligible 2019: Caddy, Grigg, Houli, Lynch, Nankervis, Prestia, Townsend and Weller)
Houli 45
Lynch 28
Prestia 19
Nankervis 5

Anthony Banik Best First Year Player: for anyone who was yet to debut before round 1
(Eligible 2019: Balta, Coleman-Jones, Collier-Dawkins, Miller, Naish, Ross, Turner, Stack)
Stack 18
Ross, Naish 2
Balta 1

Joel Bowden’s Golden Left Boot:for left footers
(Eligible 2019: Chol, Grigg, Nankervis and Houli)
Houli 45
Nankervis 5
Chol 3

Greg Tivendale Rookie List Medal:
upgraded from the rookie list during the current season
(Potentially eligible 2019: Aarts, Baker, Chol, Eggmolesse-Smith, Stack, Townsend, Weller)
Stack 18
Baker 4
Chol 3

Maurice Rioli Grip of Death Trophy:
For the Tiges top tackler in 2019

Prestia 105
Graham 100
Castagna 71
Vlastuin 61
Bolton 57
Lambert 55

Embed from Getty Images

Brendan O'Reilly 10/09/2019Filed Under: benny, front, Uncategorized

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