Notes and votes and image selection this week by Caroline Mallett [@MallettCaroline]

So my relationship with Geelong starts with my mum. Fresh off the boat from Ireland her family settled there for a short while before moving to Melbourne. Mum went to boarding school down there so she of course has always supported the Cats. It is a indifferent relationship for me. Don’t get me wrong I respect the hard workings of the cattery but there is a malignant few that just want to do harm to everyone and unfortunately yesterday I was seated amongst them, which makes it even harder to write this in my happy go lucky, positive self.

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Q1 I don’t really know the ends of the ground that well as this is only my second time at Geelong. It is always too damn cold to venture to this ground for me. Ferocious from the bounce, Tigers were hungry for it. The boys doing everything right to make sure the pill stayed at our end. Kane, Kamdyn, and Shaun were right in it. Hand balling, kicking it and the ever-elusive shepherd. How good was it to have Jack back? He was raring at the bit to get a touch and having Josh Caddy there I think is a huge relief for him. Gives him a bit of room to move. Unfortunately Josh did a hamstring and was taken off. That was the first 15 minutes and the Cats were having none of our shenanigans, not on their home turf. They worked on starting to derail the tiggy train. Cats 3.2 21 Tigers 3.4 22

Getty Images 2017 (Photo by Michael Dodge)

Q2 I am at freezing point, did I mention how cold it is down there? The wind was really swirly, horrible weather to play football in, we should have called off the game for nicer conditions. But no we must endure and we did. At every effort Tigers tried to bamboozle the Cats. Now outside of my Tigers and after Lids, Dangerfield is my favourite player. And today he was showing off for me, I am not sure of his possessions but both him and Guthrie amongst a few names were showing us up in the middle. It was like a keepings-off game that the Tigers were losing. Credit where it is due – as mentioned a million times they did not have Selwood or Hawkins. But what difference would it have made? The Cats playing on the day stood up and really showed the defensive pressure they have at both ends of the ground. Cats 8.5 53 Tigers 4.5 29

Q3 Dion Prestia, Nick Vlaustin and Dylan Grimes are doing all the right things and I am not the only one saying it. Intercepted, tackled and kicked forward. Again I am not a stats person, you can check that yourself, but I feel they held up the third quarter for us. Of course there was goal kickers too, but being able to stop that ball assisted in us getting goals in this quarter to even up the competition. Need to mention that at some point Dangerfield is off with blood rule so something was going right. Cats 8.9 57 Tigers 7.9 50

Getty Images 2017 (Photo Michael Dodge)

Q4 Did I mention the cold? I doth protest too much. We had a fighting start with the margin so small what opportunities would we take? How could we rally the boys to get us on top? The Tiger Army were in full voice. It was mentioned to me it was the battle between 3rd and 4th but for me it was Dusty and Danger. I had not mentioned Dusty as yet because I was hoping it would be the full leadership team in the last quarter. To keep our heads above water and cement that 3rd place. Seeing the score from the Sydney vs Freo game (which at 2nd qtr was 84 Swans to 9 Dockers) I knew we would have those cursed Swans biting at our tail as well. The Tigers tried on separate occasions but our kicking was just not working for us and Cats intercepted almost every attempt to get the ball back into our 50. Dusty was taken off for about 10 minutes to rest to come on in the last 15 (I think) with his last fighting tiger effort. He really put his heart and body into it but with Dangerfield, Guthrie and Henderson intercepting, the Cats were not going to stop just because of a ‘don’t argue’.
If nothing else my mum is happy this week. In the end what does it matter – we are playing finals.
Cats 11.14 80 Tigers 9.12 66

Getty Images 2017 (Photo Michael Dodge)

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Votes
5. Dylan Grimes He is a work horse no doubt that country air is doing him the world of good seeing he runs from one side of the ground to the other, it really makes you think he must have enormous lungs to go with those strong arms and legs.
4. Dion Prestia I admit I don’t know much about Dion but I feel we are going to have plenty of time to get to know him as he is proving himself a real value to the team.
3. Kane Lambert I think Kane has done the hard yards at Tigerland and he has gotten used to the senior side and is really endeavouring to make an impact.
2. Dustin Martin I know so many of you are going to say he should be higher but it’s Dusty and he is doing what is expected of him.
1. Nick Vlaustin He is a feisty fellow our Tigger and this game he needed to be, we needed someone to help Alex and be that line between that back and middle’s and Nick attempted all day to do that.
Honourable mentions: Daniel Rioli watching him makes me smile ear to ear and I feel Shane Edwards has taken him in and they just work well together. Nathan Broad he was having a real go at everything in those conditions yesterday it was nice to see.
Go Tigers

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Vote and Notes by Sarah Black (@_sjblack)
I WALKED outside, did a 180, and re-emerged five minutes later with a waterproof jacket and considerably more layers on. Winter’s come back with a vengeance in Melbourne this weekend, one last icy blast before the daffodils bloom.

The very first AFL match I went to was a Richmond-Hawthorn clash, back in 2003. I was nine. It was a night match, and I went with my best friend, Bridgette. Clad in my too-big beanie, I was jealous of her scarf. I was confused by the gold-and-brown/yellow-and-black clash. Richmond won. I’m sure Richo featured.

I wore the same beanie, still slightly too big, to the MCG on Sunday afternoon. The rain cleared and the clouds disappeared on our train trip in, and we walked on slippery bitumen from Richmond station to the G, blue skies above us.

Both sides had a key leader out – the general Hodge for Hawthorn, and our Jack, who visited multiple doctors last week in an attempt to find someone who would let him play. A very Jack story.

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Q1

I wrote about the Richmond-Gold Coast game in an official capacity last week. It’s a relief to take my unbiased journo hat off and yellow and black it up.

We were surrounded by young Hawthorn supporters. One proudly said he was five years old. He has had three premierships in his five years on the planet. I’ve had two finals wins in 24 years. These kids don’t know the meaning of failure.

The team ran out as per normal, but Alex Rance managed to rein in his manic pace to walk way behind the rest of the team, holding a little boy by the hand the entire length of the ground. It was a nice touch.

I had noted Josh Caddy is the new master of goal-square goals (taking Shaun Grigg’s mantle) after his opening goal, but little did I know what a starring role the former Cat would have.

As a five-foot-tall footballer who lined up at full-forward last week, I’m a firm believer in the tiny forward line. It’s so crazy, it works.

Even the now-beardless Corey Ellis, who shaved five years off his face in the space of a week, calmly slotted two goals in the first quarter. I may be going over the top here (although not as much as the person who created a “Aurora CoreyEllis” meme on Twitter), but there’s more than a touch of Chris Newman about CEllis.

Special mention must go to Shane Edwards, who was most definitely “on”. A leap while on the mark at half-back, an intercept, and then the coolness to feint an opponent and not rush the rebound kick.

A recent Trent Cotchin column asked fellow Tigers which teammate they would allow to go out with their hypothetical daughter. The answer was almost universally Shane Edwards, the “total package”.

Richmond 5.4 (34) to Hawthorn 1.3 (9)

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Q2

Richmond has a “player’s playlist” over the loudspeaker during breaks at each home match. Jack had selected “Land Down Under”. It’s a very Jack song – the pan flutes are the gleam in his eye, and the sheer ridiculousness of the lyrics, and happy silliness it causes, is a very familiar feeling to watching him play.

It had been a blistering start by the Tiges. The common refrain around the G was simply, “Tackling’s good”, in that understated Australian fashion.

It was more than good. It was manic. The Hawks, general-less, were dithering in defence. Burgoyne had barely touched it, and Roughy was, well, rough in front of goal.

Far be it for me to criticise one of the greatest coaches of our time, but a forward line of Shoenmakers, Duryea and Langford was not a terrifying combination.

The gulf in class between the two sides “second tiers” was no more evident than in Kane Lambert. He’s been in excellent form all year, but his pace, decision-making and execution against the Hawks across half-forward was, to quote my dad, “carving them up”.

It was an unremarkable second quarter, save for “little Ivan’s” first goal. He may be ungainly, but there’s something about Soldo that screams Richmond.

Dan Butler had an eternity, actually walking through a snap kick to an unmarked Soldo in the square. With the utmost concentration on his face, he duly saluted and even David Astbury ran from full-back to congratulate him. All that was missing was a Conca cuddle.

Richmond 6.8 (44) to Hawthorn 2.5 (17)

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Q3

No other player can increase the volume of the crowd at the G from a five to a ten quicker than Dusty.

Just five minutes of Dusty magic was enough to put the match to bed.

Playing in the goal-square, two goals in five minutes into the crowd at the Punt Road end got the Tiger faithful roaring.

To digress a tad from the play-by-play, Nick Vlastuin has not only slotted in with ease after returning from shoulder surgery, he is in career-best form.

The man called Tigger plays like his namesake, bouncing off opponents, the ground, even seemingly the air when taking intercept marks.

I could write pages on the backline. Dylan Grimes is, quietly (don’t let the opposition know!), one of our most important players. He is restrainedly fearless – rarely does stupidly brave things, but flies for intercept marks like Astbury and dashes through packs like Rance. The best of both worlds, and a rare combination of brains and footy smarts to boot.

Even Nathan Broad, who Simon Wallace on Twitter mentioned is now being called “Broady” in the stands (a very good sign), is improving every game. He’s one of us now.

Richmond 9.10 (64) to Hawthorn 4.8 (32)

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Q4

It wouldn’t be a comprehensive Richmond victory without the requisite fourth-quarter butterflies.

Two straightforward Richmond misses was enough to get my dad rubbing his head in frustration. We knew what was coming.

An excellent Tim Boyle article on Saturday said if Hawthorn were in trouble, Clarkson puts Roughead into the middle of the ground.

The 250-gamer wasn’t going to let his team lie down, almost singlehandedly getting the Hawks to within 19 points after finally getting a goal of his own at the end of the third.

But these Tigers are different beasts. Nearly every Hawthorn goal was answered by a Richmond one.

And the one to put the final nail in the coffin of Hawthorn’s finals chances?

Toby Nankervis.

Nank was an inspired recruit. Last year I briefly interviewed him while he was sitting in a ute at the back of the grand final parade. He was quietly spoken, considerate and matter-of-fact about being an emergency. He also seemed a good 10 years older than me, rather than a year younger.

But on the field, he gets that manic glint in his eye, the essential ingredient of all Richmond cult heroes. He fits the club perfectly.

Richmond 13.15 (93) to Hawthorn 9.10 (64)

Top three is heady heights indeed. No-one’s quite sure how to react, especially with the news of Selwood’s injury and Hawkins and Duncan’s suspensions ahead of this week’s Geelong clash.

We’re in enemy territory. Third versus fourth. And our best chance to beat the Cats since our last win in 2006 (I was in year 7. I’m now 24).

I take great faith from the amount of Richmond scarves I saw on Monday. Let’s do this. Anyone got a ticket?

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VOTES

5 – Kane Lambert. I have it on very good authority not one media outlet interviewed him post-match, preferring the likes of Caddy and the Human Meatball (Prestia). Credit where credit’s due, ran the pants off the Hawks.

4 – Josh Caddy. It was a very Caddy-like performance. Four goals four, 28 touches, just did what he wanted. Highlight the mark on the goal-line, playing on and the unique slip-snap goal.

3 – Dylan Grimes. Argued my case at work on Monday he was more influential against the Hawks than Rance, and I stick by it. A brick wall with fragile hamstrings.

2 – Trent Cotchin. Unheralded attack on the footy, creative in stoppages and nailed a set shot (his weakness) just a few minutes after missing the first.

1 – Dion Prestia. Rest him every second week if this is what we get. Slotting in nicely, although one wag at a packed Richmond station, watching a motorised scooter attempt to go through a barrier, said “that thing’s got a wider turning circle than Dion Prestia.” So, work to be done.

Honourable mention – Dusty. Just because I just really, really want him to stay.

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Vote and Notes by Welton B. Marsland (@wbmarsland)

The weather in Melbourne on Saturday July 29 was wild and wicked, with severe wind warnings all over the shop. Luckily, Richmond were playing 1,700 km away.

With a opening bounce set for 7:25pm, I had a decision ahead of me around 6 – stay home, safely tucked up in calm warmth and trust the solitary video link for the game wouldn’t fail me? Or brave the pitch black walk in cold and severe winds (and rain, surely, not far off) to watch in the sports bar of a local pub 2.5km away?

Reader, I pub’d it.

Impeccable timing meant I’d procured a pint of Furphy, stowed outer layers/scarves/umbrella, claimed a good spot and had notepad and pen ready just as play got underway. I spared a note of thanks to the Fixture that this was a Saturday night – Friday nights, this pub runs karaoke in the sports bar… last time I had to resort to watching a game here, someone actually attempted “I Will Always Love You” (and not the pleasant Dolly Parton version, neither).

I’m always optimistic going into a Tigers game. I’ve seen us pull off too many miracles over the years to NOT think we’re capable of beating anybody. But I’ll admit there’d been some worry going into this match. Firstly, there was the issue of Jesus and what we’d do about him. Then came the news that Jack Riewoldt would miss the game due to an eye injury sustained at training. We haven’t got a second tall forward at the moment, and now we’d have to go into this game without even the one we did have? Cripes. Welcomed footage of Jesus sitting in the stands with the other non-playing Suns settled the first lot of nerves. As for the second lot, well, someone was just gonna have to stand up. Whoda thunk that someone would be Nank?

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Q1

The Suns made their feelings known straight off the bounce, getting a goal in the first dozen seconds and another in quick succession. My note on that second goal says simply Too easy. Kamdyn McIntosh is looking hard at the moment, rocking the Division 4 ‘tache and going bald – I was thinking only a couple of weeks ago, how we just don’t see the amount of baldies playing footy as we used to, so well done Kam, you retro gentlethug, I’m loving it. Loving it even more when he plays a hand in Dan Rioli kicking our first goal, too.

Almost thought my pen had decided to run out, my grudging respect for the Suns’ Wright being able to keep moving whilst dragging a determined Nick Vlastuin almost disappearing into the paper. But mercifully no. There’s just something oily on my table top. Ah, culture!

There’s some bits of play that almost look good. Houli’s involved and it’s great to have him back. Cotch and Dusty look like they’re trying to get things happening. For a place where it’s not raining, things look decidedly slippery somehow. But Rioli looks poised when he takes a mark and puts us in the lead for the first time.

What is to become one of the night’s running themes makes its first appearance in my notes as I scribble down NANK! No.

A second ball appears on the field, kicked aside by BEllis and I murmur into my pint glass if that’ll count in his possessions.

I see I’ve noted down “Shit kick, Shedda, sorry” and can’t recalll now exactly what that shit was, but it must be said the 200-gamer wasn’t alone. Too many times, across the whole game really, some nice bit of play would end with someone kicking the ball directly to a Suns player. Mystifying.

Another of the night’s themes enters my notes as David Astbury takes a punch to the head and no one is caring. This is the game when Richmond repeatedly take affronts to the noggin area and get nothing for their troubles.

Quarter time. The Suns are 4 points ahead of us. I’ve scribbled down Rioli, Vlastuin, Houli, Shedda, Martin, then circled Rioli. Three good goals, Dan, the quarter is yours.

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Q2

My partner, D, arrives just in time to replenish my pint and for play to resume. He’s a Scragger supporter. Moral support.

Shaun Grigg pops up out of nowhere and goals to give us back the lead. And then Toby Nankervis, big, lumbering, happy boy-triumphant that he is, decides to lope forward and have another go.

NANK! YES!!

D enquires “Is the Tank playing your tall forward role now?” Well, we don’t know. But you never know. Y’know?

Butler does a smart little kick right on the boundary to Caddy who slots through another goal. We’ve pulled away to a 19 point lead. But then a nice bit of play, including Dusty passing over his head to BEllis whilst falling to the ground, doesn’t end up going anywhere. And then the third theme of the night makes its appearance in my notes – George – wot?

A brutal Don’t Argue from Dusty (“Has that bloke got up yet?” – D.), a beautiful moment from Rance, heaps good play all down the field to George for a set shot. George. Wot? Everything feels scrappier than the first quarter. George gets another go… George WOT. Little/Bigger Ivan gets someone’s head on his chin and no one is caring.

NANKKKKK!! YESSSSSS!! I think he’s getting a taste for this.

Astbury in it. Shedda involved a bit across the half. + Houli + Dusty But that Q was NANK'S

We go into the half-time break 23 points in the lead.

Half-time

There’s a lovely interview with The Ivans, most of which we can’t quite make out in the pub hubbub, but it’s nice to hear Little/Bigger Ivan speaks with the same quiet, low, considered style of speech as Big Ivan. I imagine the entire family might be like that. Quiet, considered, going about their business and doing their part.

D and I have a bit of discussion about CEllis’ beard. He looked so boyish just last year, and now he’s suddenly… Bam! – Keanu Reeves in yellow & black. Mercy.

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Q3

My notes open understated: Astbury – the quiet achiever.

The Suns goal again. I did like Kamdyn’s dance moves, though, trying to put Fiorini off his kick. And then they goal again, knocking our lead down to just two straight kicks.

Good tackle, BEllis. Somehow, no matter the location, I always end up within earshot of vocal BEllis critics. When he laid that tackle, a bloke on the table behind me said disgustedly, “FFS, Ellis, you put a guy down, you should make sure he doesn’t get up again!” He can’t win, apparently.

Rioli takes a strong mark, even with a Sun trying to push him off. Dusty kicks a disappointing point. Rance gets a slap to the side of the face and no one is caring.

C'mon George... Wot.

A Captain’s goal. Grateful. Our first of the quarter.

Little/Bigger Ivan takes a knee to the head and no one is caring.

Dusty takes a great mark, sprawled on the ground, then goes back and slots it. A goal so nice it made Rocket throw his phone in the Suns’ coaches box.

A good smother from Kamdyn and then… George! Finally, wot?!! That goal must’ve felt pretty bloody good. We go into the final break 27 points up.

Dusty? Kam, Cotch then Dusty’s circled and an explanatory footnote says For making Rocket throw his phone

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Q4

Dusty gives another good smother, Nank! No., Astbury foils a Suns goal, Nank lands hard, Lambert is brave under pressure. But the Suns, depleted with injuries as they now are, keep on coming. They get another goal.

Lambert takes a groin in the face and no one is caring.

George…!! A welcomed goal. And he gets a lovely hug from his Captain.

I might’ve been impressed with Wright powering through Vlastuin’s drag in the first quarter, but here we see that Dusty can run with two Suns hanging off him. What a fine bull he is.

There’s Kamdyn with a good tackle, there’s Dusty (again) under three Suns this time, and there’s Keanu – I mean CEllis, taking a beautiful grab considering how many blokes could’ve got a hand on it, and deftly slots a goal. We’re 33 points ahead.

It’d be handy to try and kick up the percentage a bit more, lads. But I’m enjoying this game, for all its scraps. Are we not entertained?

George takes a hip to the head and what’s this? Someone finally actually cares! He’s awarded a free and kicks his third goal for the night.

Final score – Gold Coast 65, Richmond 98. We retain 4th spot and we’re within 10 percentage points of the two teams immediately above us. Pretty, be damned.

George. CEllis. Dusty had 34 touches for the game? Cripes!

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We repaired outside for a last drink and post mortem chat, then we rugged up and walked home. Along the way, crossing over one of the big storm drains which is currently in flood, we heard frogs. Frogs, people! It’s been too long. What a beautiful sound. We need to save the frogs, everybody. We need to save the tigers, too, of course. It was International Tiger Day, after all. 97% of the world’s tigers have disappeared in the last century. There’s less than 4,000 in the wild now. Can we help? We must, really. There’s over 70,000 Richmond members – that could translate to helping out a few tigers, yeah?

World Wildlife Fund Australia’s Adopt-a-Tiger programme is here, if you’re able to help – https://donate.wwf.org.au/campaigns/adopt-a-tiger/

Alternatively, we can politely ask the club to get involved. Surely it’s worth a shot.

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Votes

5 Toby Nankervis He stood up. He loped in. His was the feel-good story of the night, much happy-making.

4 Dustin Martin Thirty-four touches is not to be argued with.

3 Daniel Rioli Career-high match goals. Looking pretty confident.

2 Kamdyn McIntosh Liking the cut of his gib.

1 Jason Castagna Work on your accuracy, George, but good on ya.

Unlucky: David Astbury. “The quiet achiever”.

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Votes and notes by Lauren Cameron (@lozzemarine)

Writing this recap was not the only privilege I had bestowed upon me on Sunday, as we (Dad, Nan and I) were invited into Richmond’s Inner Sanctum. It’s a once a year sojourn where Richmond attempts to woo us, giving us a taste of the next level of membership, a dalliance with the upper echelon, in the hope that we’ll upgrade. It’s somewhat flattering.

Sunday morning involved a pre-match briefing with Tim Livingstone and Andrew McQualter, walking on the hallowed turf itself (or at least the astro-turf beside the hallowed turf), a wave from Cotch as he completed a solo warm-up and free fan-tales in a tiny National Storage box.

I was nervous about this game, as we always seem to be when terms such as ‘season-defining’ are bandied around. Sometimes it feels as though importance looms over Richmond like a dark cloud. But I’ll get back to the clouds.

Q1

Clearances?!

I chose to frantically write notes in a small notebook, because I tend to get very caught up in the excitement, and I thought I would forget everything. In the first quarter my notes were mostly: Clearances??!!?!

Not an ideal start by any means, inside 50s 7 to 19. But this quarter didn’t feel as bad as some of our other poor quarters this year. There were little things to take pride in, such as Kamdyn’s desperation, throwing himself at the ball and at Giants willy-nilly. Broady bouncing back up after being kicked in the ribs, moving onto the next contest with barely a wince. Strong marking efforts from Astbury and Vlastuin and tackling pressure from Rioli.

On Astbury (DAAS always), the forearm to the throat of Mathieson last week, followed by the collaring and stern words on Toby Greene this week were almost as impressive as his improved marking. Almost.

Final note for the quarter: I hate Toby Greene.

Q2

The little things.

In our briefing with the coaches, a fan posed a question about Rioli’s output over the last few weeks. The response was that while Dan hasn’t had as much direct scoreboard impact in the second half of the season, his GPS stats had not declined at all, indicating that he is still moving, running and creating.

I don’t like to talk about Cyril when talking about Dan. I don’t think comparisons are fair or necessary, but I did have a little think about Cyril today. In the second quarter Dan Rioli was everywhere, and his possession count and goal tally won’t tell you that. His pressure, his tackling and his presence in marking contests were really important. The little things count.

At the top of the page I’ve written rain and circled it. It was only a drizzle, but it was a start.

We came out more attacking, our pressure lifted, our kicking became more direct. Lambert goaled after being denied a holding the ball call (so maybe he was in Mzungus’ back a little) and the crowd began to lift.

Dusty and Cotch too had lifted, our captain beginning to put his stamp on things with 6 tackles, and a crazy mid-air grab of a ball he had no right to get his hands on. Our Bull bringing the pressure, the breaking of tackles and a goal.

VLAS. Capital letters at the bottom of the page, as Nick puts his body on the line again and again, taking marks and stopping everything that comes near.

I50s 25 a piece.

Q3

Thank goodness for dark clouds.

Desperation and a lift in physicality, our pressure returning to the high standards of earlier this year.

Wet weather has become something of a gift, it rewards brute strength, hard work and quick thinking.

Small moments again – Nankervis bulldozing towards goal, every tap, slap and soccer-kick, Floss marking again and again.

We looked stronger, worked harder, thought quicker.
(That should probably be ‘more quickly’, but it ruins my motif)

Q4

So tense. Can’t take notes. I love Jack.

Notes for the last quarter were brief

Jack was well-held by Davis in the first half, and was pretty well-matched in the air. There is something about Jack and the rain, probably born from soggy Tasmanian mornings. He has always been an incredibly smart player, and when it rains he truly gets to showcase his genius. The swift taps, knock-ons and pokey soccer kicks to advantage – he gives everything he has, heart and soul and sweat and tears. I just love him.

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Random Notes:

Toby Nankervis is a very physical player. I may have described him as an animal at some point.

Soldo, on hands and knees, handballed to Prestia through a Giant’s legs. I just thought it was cool.

Short’s kick i50 to Riewoldt was a thing of beauty.

Nathan Broad is a tough cookie, I’m really liking him.

Upon rewatch, in the commentary: “Alex Rance, who will swallow anything that comes near him.” Thanks Huddo.

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Votes Votes Votes

5 Dusty – That sharp in-take of breath that echoes around the MCG as he gets near the ball is exquisite. I got an absurd amount of joy from Tom Scully missing a shot on goal, and Dusty kicking one immediately after.

4 Cotch – Just keeps rolling along, doing Cotchy things. Stood up in the second quarter when we really needed a Firestarter. Gets down and dirty, tackles like a maniac, shows crazy cat-like reflexes and never gets a hair out of place.

3 Vlastuin – the great wall of Ranga. Marked everything, crashed packs and was seriously impenetrable. Has an excellent beard.

2 Jack – Worked tirelessly to get himself into the game, and impacted heavily where he could. His work at contests to get the ball to ground was noticeable, and his wet weather footy is impressive, and just plain fun to watch!

1 Kam Mcintosh – In the first quarter we looked sleepy/absent. Kam was noticeable because of his early efforts, his run at stages, and his work on Tom Scully. Loves the wet almost as much as Jack.

Special mentions to Brando for his run and carry, and Georgie who despite having some issues with goals in the last few weeks, laid 9 tackles, showing great desire to have an impact.

Votes are hard you guys. Ah well.

In any weather.

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Notes and votes from Liahm O’Brien [@BigSmoove83]

For many onlookers, this game is one that they’re willing to put into the history books as a forgotten four points. If I were sitting at home on the couch, I’d have probably agreed with them. But this was a rare occasion in which I was able to get along to a Tigers game having flown over from the apple isle early Friday morning. When it comes to watching Richmond live, I tend to see the game with rose coloured glasses on – yesterday was no different. I was able to look past the missed field kicks, small crowd and open roof and see this performance favourably.

Given that the ‘hard to watch’ display of last week was fresh in the minds of our supporters, this week was all about the response. It can be said that the scoreboard did not reflect the total tiger dominance during the course of the game. The game really got rolling in the first quarter, where Jack and his mosquito fleet took charge, while our midfield really putting their heads in the hole, firing out disposals from the contested packs and running rampant. The tackling pressure of Butler in particular was quite impressive. Interesting from the first quarter too was the decision to play Nankervis forward, a move that I really liked. He was lively up forward and created a contest when called upon, until he was called to relieve Ivan Soldo in the ruck.

A fast first term was then followed up by a much slower second quarter. The lions had settled into the game and started to wrestle back some momentum, largely due to the performance of Witherden down back. Coupling this with some costly turnovers from our midfield, the Lions were able to get back into the game….and yet, I still felt that we were in control, even if it meant only taking a slender eight point lead into the break. The brick wall built by Astbury and a third game player in Nathan Broad was pivotal to my confidence. Both men out bodied their opponents and on occasion left them to win another contest further afield – a very encouraging sign.

A comfortable 31 point win was set up by a game breaking third quarter. This was when our stars came out to shine. After a reasonably quiet first half, Dustin Martin tore the Brisbane midfield in half with a damaging display of contested football and Cotchin did much the same. To me, though it was Jack that provided the spark with an impressive snap from the pocket to start the third term. Right in front of the cheer squad of all places, this moment set the tone for the rest of the match. He created something out of nothing and his team mates followed suit. Soon after, Rioli would scrap for a ball in the opposite pocket and punched a ball to the advantage of an oncoming Dan Butler for a major. In the last quarter, Trent Cotchin was left two on one at full forward and somehow he was able to win a 20-80 contest which resulted in a team mate cashing in for a goal. To top this off Dan Rioli got amongst the goals himself with an incredible snap from the pocket after dancing and weaving around 3 opponents.

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In all, this was a typical Richmond result – we dominated in the midfield against a star studded line up, Jack took apart the best opposition defender with four majors and the backline was again resolute. Yet, we weren’t able to cash in on the scoreboard despite a great level of control. I’d call it a ‘nice response’ to last week’s game. It wasn’t our best performance, but at the same time this was far from the worst game I’ve seen from the club. We did what we had to do to win, nothing more and nothing less. Four points is four points….and on to the next one. On that note, here are my vote getters (honourable mentions to Prestia, Broad, Ellis and Caddy).

5 Jack Riewoldt – an absolute game breaking performance. Jack always looked in control of his man Andrews. Not only did he kick four goals but he brought the mosquito fleet into the action with his competition in the air. Kicked an absolute barn burner to set he tone early in the third term.

4 Dustin Martin – forget the turn overs throughout the first half, this guy was unbelievably good. His clearance work was something to marvel at, beating the entire Brisbane midfield brigade by himself. Capped off a very classy performance with two goals and stood up under very close Nick Robertson (booooooooooooo) ‘attention’.

3 David Astbury – a lot has been made about his season and the player coming of age. This game was could be used to highlight the narrative. His great strength was his contested marking, winning numerous one on one duels. Won a heap of favours with the crowd by flying the flag in testing times – very Tiger-ish.

2 Trent Cotchin – another exceptional game, his role in the midfield was excellent again as highlighted by a great third quarter. Another encouraging sign was the amount of time he was able to play in the forward line. Coming out of the goal square, he looked incredibly potent and his competitive efforts were great – I’m hoping he gets more time inside 50.

1 Dan Butler – his game should be the standard setter for our small forward brigade for the remainder of the season. While he kicked three goals, it was his tally of seven tackles that were a game changer. Played a crucial role in keeping the ball inside our attacking half – I don’t know what the blueprint is for the rising star award, but his 20 goals for the season and near four tackles a game have flown right under the radar of the media.

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Leaderboard

This was a disgusting performance, right down there in the worst. I have seen teams tank with more purpose and coordination than we showed last night against St Kilda. Before I even sat down to watch, Rance gave away 50 metres to get the headline act Nick Riewoldt up and running. But I was on the couch to see Cotchin give away another 50 (and get reported) for a stupid love-tap to the guts right in front of the umpire. And with that, the tone was set.

Our leaders’ heads were apparently already in September. The preparation for this match with a fellow top-8 side which was coming off 3 wins, was inadequate. There were distractions, but there so often are – they cannot be allowed as an excuse, as they affected both sides.

Our skills were so poor, and showed a lack of care for teammates. We were only down by 4 or 5 goals when self-preservation set in – evidenced by rushed disposals that just referred greater pressure on the recipient. The kicking for goal was criminal; Edwards, Castagna and Prestia all guilty. With a complete lack of scoreboard pressure, and minimal physical pressure, the Saints did as they pleased.

Example; about 5 mins into the 2nd quarter Newnes on the forward flank easily dodged Grigg and Rioli, and seeing the Saints had the numbers around the 50, just launched a bomb in their direction for them to raffle it. Toby Stevens got under it, time passed like treacle, and he dropped it. He picked it up again still unmolested, and then from a standing start weaved around Short and goaled with Cotchin arriving too late to bag him, and other Tigers standing off so they didn’t get ‘Joe-the-Goose’d. We let Stevens look like Leo Messi versus the Burnley Primary School under 10s and I am sure his agent will thank us.

Dusty and Jack gave us very little all night. Jack was at centre-half-back during the early onslaught and Dusty spent time at full-forward, so at least moves were attempted either by Dimma or the players themselves to get them involved. Some younger players who are now regulars had absolute stinkers, and might have to be re-graded as fringe selections.

St Kilda outscored us 9.5 to 0.1 in that 2nd quarter, and we were 82 points down at half time. We tidied up the scoreboard a little and scraped back some percentage in the 2nd half. And that is very important; but for my purposes here, goals and possessions gained after the 4 points were gone count for little.

I wasn’t at the game and I know that the crowd noise that is broadcast is not always a fair reflection of the atmosphere at the ground. Can anyone tell me, after Membrey laid out Grimes with a forearm to the face, did the Tiges crowd boo him? I didn’t hear it – on TV it seemed like the tribe had been cowed into silence, which is an awful thing to say. Membrey went on to kick 5 and seemed to enjoy a pleasant bruise-free night out.

Next week the Brisbane Lions at Etihad again. Very interesting. We are now 2 games ahead of Essendon with similar percentage. Essendon are tenth.

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The Votes

I discussed this with Joe during the game and we agreed a Black Armband approach was required. No votes for anyone.

However; on mature reflection I have decided the integrity of the Benny requires that votes be cast. Even for that inferior bauble the Brownlow (Shane Woewodin has never won the Benny) six votes are awarded even after those dire games where all 44 involved should be sentenced to community service orders.

Often after giving votes we will mention those that were unlucky. No-one was unlucky this week, and these 5 are so lucky they ought to load up on scratchie tickets.

5 votes to David Astbury who stood up pretty well after Grimes went off.

4 votes to Brandon Ellis who took big pack marks in defence in the first half.

3 votes to Kane Lambert who played bravely and didn’t go into his shell.

2 votes to Connor Menadue ditto although he made plenty of mistakes, I liked his run.

1 vote to Shaun Grigg got a lot of the pill and helped out in ruck

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Votes and Notes from Andy Fuller [@readingsideways]

I walked from Prospect Oval in North Adelaide towards the Adelaide Oval. The quiet, tree-lined streets of sandstone houses and brush-fences turned into a four-laned road heading in and out of town: car dealerships on either side. ‘Finance Me’. ‘Was 53,299; now 51,299’. My phone battery was under the critical 15% mark and I wasn’t getting any signal. Strange behaviour from my phone. I had taken some 50 or so photographs during the day and the battery had been quickly consumed. The phone’s clock was still on Melbourne time; half-an-hour ahead. The road curved and I passed some derelict and empty houses. Some buses passed, but I was happy to be walking; filling in the time to get to the Barrie Robran statue at the Southern End of the Adelaide Oval to meet Uncle Tony et al. From the northern end of O’Connell street, Port fans were parking their cars and making their way to pubs, restaurants and bars for pre-game drinks. I had on my North Adelaide Roosters beanie; not yet ready to engage in AFL-rivalries. ‘Adelaide Oval: walk there; stay here’: so advertised a motel. A mild winter’s evening: still, almost cloudless. And the forecast was for very a cold night. Under 10 degrees! Yet, on the way to the ground, some of the punters were still carrying their coats. While others, had their new-era Port jumpers on as their outer-most garment.

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The media reported this as being an important game for Port: it was their chance to assert their credentials as a legitimate top-4/finals team. A retired Port player tried to drum up a rivalry and Richmond fans expressed their indifference via twitter. Despite their high-position on the ladder, they had generally lost against top-eight sides. On the Friday night Channel 7 predictions, even the great Richo predicted the Port to win by virtue of the game being played at Port’s semi-home ground of the renovated Adelaide Oval. During the day, in a pre-game Triple M discussion, I had heard the legendary Wayne Carey blame buffets for teams’ poor travelling records. Thorough analysis: teams lose footy games when they travel interstate due to ill-disciplined eating. I then remembered my own ill-disciplined eating since my arrival in SA: albeit I’m not here to take part in an elite sporting competition.

I have become one of the fans Damien Hardwick mentioned a couple of weeks ago in a press conference: ‘our fans go to games confident that their team is going to give a solid performance’. I paraphrase. This is in contrast to early footy-going anxieties: a fear of the team being utterly humiliated and then having to work out one’s strategy for justifying how going to the game was an enjoyable experience. The players are playing with a greater confidence; there is a stability in the team. Probably this too is reflected in the crowds’ reaction to our agonising defeats (Freo in particular). These defeats have not seen the massive down-turn in crowd-numbers: just intense, short-term disappointment at not having won very winnable games.

So this was a winnable game from the outset: Port were after all, occupying a somewhat flattering position on the ladder. Richmond: about where we (?) should be. There were low expectations of a Richmond win and the pressure was on Port to perform. But, we were without Bachar. The man himself had yet again conducted himself with aplomb – as he always does – this time, in the face of bigoted and prejudiced views. Probably he didn’t even care for their presence. The spewers of hate took Bachar’s act and ran with it: using it to attack him, as if he had intentionally knocked out Jed Lamb. I imagined an alternative circumstance where Houli would be knocked out in similar circumstances and then him being blamed for the knock out for having a glass jaw. So in came Oleg Markov of North Adelaide. I had enjoyed watching him last year; a season in which he admitted to getting games only thanks to Houli’s persistent injuries.

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This was my first proper away game for Richmond. I sat with Uncle Tony, Cousin James and Matthew – friend of Tony – in the southern stand, beneath a scoreboard. The halls leading to our seats were lined with SANFL memorabilia in display cases. The legends of SANFL footy on the wall; histories of clubs detailed nearby. Port entered the field to their ridiculous and bouncy song; Richmond’s song was issued from the speakers at minimal volume. Loud enough to be heard; but not loud enough to be enjoyed. Is that the Tiges song, I hear, ol chap? I stood with the Port faithful and sang their INXS chant, regretting not having brought my Richmond scarf with me. My only piece of Richmond gear was my Richmond-Jeep-Bingle black baseball hat. Packing light. I was standing; you were there; two worlds colliding.

#9 won the toss and pointed to the southern end; at least one mistake wasn’t repeated. We were in spectacular seats, thanks to Tony’s fastidious preparation. We looked north to the beautifully manicured ground to the scoreboard and the Moreton bay figs. This stadium was not lacking for scoreboards. Screens are integral part of the contemporary stadium: the crowd must also be a screen audience. Curved Wanganeen and Basheer stands on the right. Our section was crowded but not full: the Port fans in our section were a mix of grumpy oldies and young hipsters bedecked in beards and replica jumpers. And there was a Richmond contingent too, nearby. A moustachioed chap with a 1980s Richmond-baseball style jacket, still in mint condition. A young teenager in a Tiger onesie. Hopefully she was warmer than the rest of us. I was surprised by their exuberant cheering at each of our goals. Best to not goad the cantankerous, methought.

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I marked Richmond’s progress by some modest expectations. We were going well if we weren’t getting blown away. The first quarter was promising: one goal and numerous points each. There were moments in the second quarter which were a touch more worrying. But, the groans and growing of frustration of the Port fans suggested they were too were worried about Richmond’s reluctance to meekly rollover in the manner of polite guests. I had a hot-chocolate at half-time and enjoyed the city views on a balcony. I took the slow route back to my seat and consumed some more SANFL history: checking out boots, jumpers, records, trophies, anecdotes. Port fans had taken their angry pills at the break, and were venting at their players, our players and the fellows in grey wielding their whistles. I humoured myself by mocking their displeasure: so easily and so often it could have been us making similar gestures. We had five minutes of brilliance at the end of the ¾ and wrestled the lead after stifling Port’s efforts. The Teal Army were grumpy. I held my emotions and expectations: there were still plenty of opportunities for us to lose it. And in the end we did not. We didn’t even let it become close. So, we didn’t win a close one. Alex, Dylan and David – et al – prevent it from being a debacle.

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And so to the votes. I’m giving One to Tyson Stengle. He came in to the side and wasn’t over-awed. He played his role (!) and wanted the ball. He kicked a couple of goals and broke tackles. More please. I’m giving Two to Daniel Butler. Maybe he deserves more. His goal in the second quarter was wonderful. And my Uncle Tony’s mate, Matthew, announced: people coming from rugby league backgrounds don’t appreciate how difficult it is to run at top speed, avoid tackles and bounce the ball. I jumped up and celebrated – mutedly – as it bounced through the goals. I’m giving Three to Kane Lambert. I like how his body shape has subtly changed over the last year. He’s hardened up; he looks tougher and fitter. I’ve barely memorised his gait: he’s the guy who I can’t memorise on the field. Every time I think to myself ‘who has got the ball right now?’ I slowly realise it is him. I asked myself that question quite often. He’s tough; no-nonsense; after-the-ball. I’m giving Four to Alex Rance. He came into the game in the second half and the Port fans were hugely frustrated by his persistent winning of the one-on-one duels and his judgement about when to run-off his man and when to stay put. I can’t help but give Five to Dusty. I guess it is the timing of when he plants his hand into the chest of a would-be tackler that makes his ‘don’t argue’ impenetrable. Great tackle by #19 Matthew White-regardless, he is almost untackleable. ☺ Brilliant goal in our mini-come-back in the ¾.

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Richmond fans roamed the periphery of the Adelaide Oval in groups. An informal cheer squad sang the song. Others were more subdued; talking and smiling amongst themselves. Uncle Tony and I made our way past the newly revealed Malcolm-Blight-in-full-flight statue towards North Adelaide where his vehicle was parked. The revival of the Adelaide Oval as a centrepiece of sports tourism in Adelaide continues apace. And like the MCG, the Adelaide Oval is a focus point of weekly city-based events. The Adelaide City Council is strict on the parking and ‘event parking’ signs are everywhere. Tony shared some anecdotes about various nearby buildings and his career as a radio announcer; hosting a jazz show. Rambling conversations, post-footy; a moderate walk back to the car. I’m liking this Richmond team’s unfancied, unglamorous staying-power more and more each week. The bitter defeats (Dogs, GW$, Freo, Sydney) could have broken them. Steady progress is being made. Go forth, new Tiges.

Votes and notes this week by Footy Gospel’s Josh Pinn

Standing On The Outside
When I put my hand up to provide the votes for this week’s Richmond game I’m not sure I really knew what I was getting into. I thought “If I wanted to follow a team, albeit only for analytical purpose, that is mercilessly derided for finding new and inventive ways of losing close games, I’d go for North Melbourne*.”

Be that as it may, I have a peculiar admiration for your lot. I wrote about it last time the Tigers were making a mostly unexpected run at the finals in 2014 (insert gratuitous link here). This week I got something of a glimpse into the experience of following Richmond and, I feel, the human condition at large. The frustration, the unknowing, the unconditional love, the inevitable dread, and the overwhelming relief.

While I watched the game from the comfort of my living room I did my best to drown out the commentary. I’m not one to use the mute button because I need at least a little bit of noise, so I did have the misfortune to hear Brian Taylor’s over-excited musings (For what it’s worth, I’ve noticed his sidekick for the day, Hamish McLachlan, describes players as if they were home viewers on Sale of the Century‘s Fame Game board. “Here’s Shai Bolton. He kicked two goals last week, he’s a first year player and one of his hobbies is amateur entomology.”)

I don’t know how many of you know this, but it would seem to me that TV commentators like to make a game sound like it’s on a knife edge regardless of the actual situation. Thus, even when the Tiges led by four goals halfway through the last quarter of a game they had more or less controlled since the first bounce, one of the commentators remarked, “Remember Richmond have lost four games by less than nine points.” Why that was relevant escaped me, but that must be the sort of thing you have to put up with all the time.

As I said, Richmond controlled the game, but that is not to say it was a performance that will be looked back on with a great deal of fondness. The Tiges did what was required but were wasteful in front of goals and perhaps overused the ball the bit, but Carlton have a habit of making teams do that. In the end, the wealth of opportunity the team manufactured was always going to end in a win.

*I do go for North Melbourne.

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The Votes

5 – Shaun Grigg: Played in his usual impressive manner. He’s steadily become one of my favourite Richmond players. Gets plenty of the ball on the wings and flanks and always uses it well. Managed to get the ball to dangerous spots in the forward line.

4 – Bachar Houli: Wasn’t a great start to the game with his high hit on Jed Lamb, for which he may have to sit out a week, but he gathered himself and played one of his best games this year. Repelled many of Carlton’s forays into their forward line and was a valuable link in the chain.

3 – Alex Rance: What more can you say? What I wouldn’t give to have a player of his ability on my team. Occasionally has the entire back half of the ground all to himself, but he may as well be a one man wall stretching from one side of the ground t’other. Nothing gets past him. Showed Liam Jones up the other end the level he should be aiming at.

2 – Dustin Martin: Seemed to start quietly but just didn’t go away and his second half was huge. He even managed to beat the aforementioned Liam Jones in a one on one marking contest, which is a feat to which neither Tom Lynch nor Jonathan Patton can lay claim.

1 – Kane Lambert: Could’ve been best on in the first three quarters. He was in nearly everything and registered one goal from a few opportunities, but was hardly sighted in the last quarter.

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The Predictability Factor

Last time I was handed the keys to TTBB was after the most unlikely of Richmond performances as we peeled off a three quarter time deficit, running rampant in the last quarter against Melbourne. This time is seemingly straight out of the Richmond-Hardwick playbook, and the handback of what most clubs would deem a match winning lead.

Unfortunately a lack of time this week means there won’t be any huge amount of analysis in this post, if you are after that then head over to The Roar for Cam Rose’s article about the Groundhog Day situation we find ourselves in.

What I will say is the sense of inevitability at the G on Sunday was all encompassing. We played some great footy in the first 45 minutes before Sydney worked us out, but once Lloyd turned the footy over and they scored late in the second quarter it seemed like we’d seen this movie before, more than a few times, and knew exactly how it was going to end.

From a glass half full approach, these things used to happen in a 20 minute burst (hello North Melbourne games) but Sydney took three quarters to achieve what we all knew was going to happen. Is that progress?

Sydney worked us out mid-stream and planned accordingly. I’m not the first person to observe forward structure is lacking, Jack is doing too much overtime and we need a second target. That Sydney team is big enough, ugly enough and have been around the traps long enough to adapt and force us to go up the wing, knowing that we didn’t have the get out option.

Things look like they might be a little bit different against Carlton on Sunday if we play Maric Snr, Ivvy isn’t going to be the great circuit breaker of our time but he should structure us up going forward and mean that it isn’t Jack or bust.

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My votes

5: Alex Rance – Sydney is my favourite Rance game of the year because it’s the one time we get to see him go full defensive against Buddy. I love Buddy, I will always love Buddy, but my goodness it was great to see Rance beat him senseless.

4: Trent Cotchin – All the attention is on Dusty but the captain is putting together a fine body of work in 2017 and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s leading the B&F. He ran himself into the ground in the last quarter to try and push back against the tide, unfortunatley he wasn’t able to overwhelm the Swans midfield on his own.

3: David Astbury – Not all that long ago we used to watch Astbury waiting for the worst and now he has learned from the best. The chatter will keep asking him for go forward but there is no way in my mind you split up that duo.

2: Josh Caddy – I assume when we pitched to Caddy the brief wasn’t ‘come to Richmond and play some kind of quasi CHF role’, other than Jack he was the only one who could hold the ball in a contest.

1: Shai Bolton – Little bit chuffed I get to give the first TTBB vote to Shai. He set us alight in the first quarter and it won’t be the last time. We got Bolton with the compensation pick for Vickery and in ten minutes he kicked as many goals as Ty has managed all year. Strap yourself in, he is going to be so much fun to watch.

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The night before the calamity last year: a Hobart local with Mr 6yo, who does not feel the cold.

At best, it was three degrees. Despite the novelty and the cold winter air, all about the night was forgettable. And yet Facebook tries to remind me, prompting memories with photographs from a year ago. Un-social media.
All who were in Hobart this time last year have cold memories.

Match reports of last Saturday night’s game are glib with the matter – “North had beaten the Tigers seven times in their previous eight meetings,” wrote Rohan Connolly in the Sunday Age – but sports reporters live behind glass, on upholstered seats. They sit not on damp grass on cold earth, sheathed in a blanket, with ski mitts. They are not fans like us. Our memories rarely forget.

This game last year was a low-point in the lowly history Richmond has against North Melbourne since, well, since when Glenn Archer would beat-up on Richo. All knees and elbows, the little knot of aggression hopped-into our long-limbed thoroughbred like a hungry man might hop-into a bowl of hot soup on a cold night. He monstered Richo. North monstered us.

Sure, we beat them last round of 2015, when their team of interns bruised us, mentally, physically, emotionally. A cruel joke. Cheryl Critchley isn’t yet over it.

North Melbourne, a club with less, down by the old abattoirs, that for two generations has given its fans more. A club that fields teams that manage usually to humiliate us. We’re up by seven goals at half-time? No probs, we’ll let them run over us, and ensure a player once one of ours – Robbie Nahas – kicks the goals to put them in front. Salt. Rub. Wound. Richmond.

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Lucky table Nº 8: fish’n’chips before the game last year with the two boys and my eldest sister, a North fan, as part of her 50th birthday present. She enjoyed the night, I thought it was lousy.

Saturday night, and all was alright, although we never were quite sure, because this is Richmond and recent history says the margin of error is quite large (although for three games this season it was improbably small). We won! Yay! More relief than overblown excitement.

Our team are gelling better than theirs. And for the first time in 18 seasons, we didn’t have to play against ‘Boomer’ Harvey. Phew.
As fans in the stands, in the outer, we see the game differently, from our partial perspective, bringing to a game all our expectations and hopes and life history and who we are. We are not good judges. Nobody is an expert. We all know as much about the game as the next person, and we all want to wrap Dusty up in a bundle of love, make him happy, fulfilled, enriched, our little project, our warrior leader, indefatigable, we might follow him into a pit of fire, howling against the world, against all its social injustices, against inequalities, phonies, fakes, yes-men, hangers-on, fat cats, those who hardly know the value of a dollar and the truth of a hard day’s work.

See, that’s just me, at the football. Of course it’s more than a game.

It’s what we look forward to all week, our emotional release, seeing the beauty and skill of young and fit men in the prime of their lives doing extraordinary feats of bravery and athleticism. Or is that just Dave Astbury and Alex Rance in the back half?

And a cheerio to them, on their camping trip. Hope they’ve caught some fish, packed warm sleeping bags, enjoyed the fire-side. Anyone know where they are? My guess is the Edwards River, an anabranch of the Murray. Just wanted to use that word. Anabranch. So specific.

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The North game last year: staying to the bitter end.

Bad analogy. There’s no place in football for Kiwi fruit.

Fans like me judge Dusty and Cotch and Jack and Alex to higher standards because through inherited gifts and dumb luck and hard work, and dedication, they are simply better players. They ought to appreciate this, if only for the betterment of the team. All are not equal on a football field. It is self-evident some are faster or taller or can kick a ball longer or straighter, or can stand-up in a tackle more often than others. But each must pull the other along, together. It is the essence of the word ‘team’; as in a teamster, a team of draft animals, each of them a beast of burden.

Dusty is our bull, but we need more than that. Where would our club be this season, where would this team be, without Toby Nankervis? He’s our lucky break. He was no long-term plan. We didn’t pick him in the draft, identify him as talent, school him. Maybe midway through last year he came onto the club’s radar, or maybe it was later than that. There is much luck in football. Or is it good judgement? Ivan Maric got us out a pickle. So, too, has Nank. But he needs some support.

Reckon we also need a bona fide centre-half-forward. Todd Elton, we are all with you on this (or at least I am). Get that shoulder right, fans like me have not given up. Keep jumping for the ball, flying for it, at least splitting open packs, getting the ball to spill. It’ll come. The ball will stick. So much of the game is also confidence. Look what Dan Butler and Jason Castagna and Dan Rioli are doing, and what Shai Bolton is threatening to become. When your tails are up, anything can happen.

Beers to tears: Justin Flynn and his merry crew “on the ferry over to Bellerive, before the carnage, with a wind chill of minus 4”.

The votes.

Bachaaaaaar gets my five. Controversial, no. Ramadan, yes. Thirty-one possessions, but who cares about numbers? When he got the ball, he gave us run and carry across the mid-section of the field, he gave us composure, he gave us a get-out and an attacking weapon, he gave us his beautiful, raking left-foot kick. Eighty-nine per cent game time. Only four other players are higher (Rance 100, Riewoldt 93, Astbury 91, Grigg 90), and my guess is none of them covered the territory Houli did. He has been a blessing for our club. I thought his game was marvellous. I would like him to taste my babaganoush.

Brandon Ellis gets my four. No longer “much maligned”, not this season. He’s straightened-up his game this year, is kicking crunch goals at critical moments, is getting in all the right spots, staying on his feet. He’s become more than dependable. He’s become one of our brightest assets. A gauge for all football fans: the heart rate when certain players have the ball. Dusty gets it and my heart skips a beat (knowing he can hit a target 60 metres upfield with a laser bullet). Jack leads and takes a mark and I can at last breathe, knowing the ball is in good hands. Alex takes the ball out of defence, running with all his pomp and confidence, and my confidence rises, too. Brandon Ellis got the ball on Saturday night and good things happened. The ball changed direction, went our way, went to good places, positions of attack, of our advantage. Well done! Been a great year so far, and he deserves it.

Three votes. Dusty. You cannot keep a good man down. He is a good man. I like the way he spoke after the game. A weight seemed lifted. He seemed easeful. He will stay. He is one of us.

Two votes. Cotch. His partner in crime. Been bloody brilliant this year. All leadership (except giving away that free off-the-ball in the centre of the ground that cost us a goal! Bad Cotch!). Good Cotch is a tireless combatant, slick hands, kicking goals again, run-and-carry, dropping his knees in tackles, is everywhere. Would any player be sorer after a game? He is remarkable. He is ours. We love him, we admire him.

One vote to Dion Prestia. Early in the game he fumbled the ball and my thoughts – uh-ho, here we go again – but slowly and methodically he turned it all around and kept getting involved in the contest, again and again (a game-high 11 possessions in the last, along with Cotch and Houli), kept running, contributing. Thought he was excellent. A rites-of-passage game.

Honourable mentions, in no particular order. Kane Lambert. He’s strung together a series of good games of workmanlike footy, that have started catching the eye. He’s put himself back in the picture, through effort and application. Toby Nankervis, our totem. We owe it mostly to him. Outpointed Goldstein (3 marks to 0), carried the load on his shoulders, long may he stay in one piece. Good stuff, big fella. Enjoy the long and hot baths. Dave Astbury and Alex Rance. They’ve become a two-hander, with the odd cameo from Dylan, a yin and yang, sidekicks to each other, both playing with care and confidence. Each make the other a better player. If one doesn’t get you, the other will.
We are proud of our Tigers, and happy for them they’ve gotten to the bye with their character intact, and now enhanced. A string of heartbreak losses, fatal mistakes, and all could have been derailed. But they’ve turned it around, put it behind them.
That’s what good sides do. And good sides keep finding new ways to win. Long may that be the case for this second long act in the season.

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A balmy six degrees and as seen at game last year (& this man last seen dispensed from casualty ward with frostbite).
Pic supplied by Luke Wentworth.

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