This match promised great things early, with goals aplenty and unbelievable pressure in the first quarter. We went in without Lynch as a precaution, and relied on Jack and Marbs up front. Prestia and Bolton were big ins, at the expense of unlucky Jack Ross and inconsistent Josh Caddy.
Things got started with a big Brisbane goal. McCluggage marked on 50, then Daniel Rich wandered over and said ‘give me the kick’ then stood there whistling. Tigers stood off while Buggerlugs thought about it for a few beats and finally handed it to Rich who thumped it through. James Brayshaw yelped “What a start that is for Richmond! Uh the Lions! And Rich!”
Shai fooled around so much he was caught by the very big Oscar McInerny, then made things worse by giving away 50, enabling the Big O to bring up a goal. Bakes kicked his first goal of the year on the run from 50, and the skipper followed up to keep us in touch at 19-19. Kam added another and we went in on top at 4.1.25 to 3.1.19
Embed from Getty ImagesWe traded goals after the restart, then we owned the ball for the next fifteen minutes. It was clear as day that the Lions couldn’t continue to hang on. We just kept pumping it in and Harris Andrews took relieving mark after relieving mark. Never in footy history has a team dominated fifteen minutes as we did and failed to score at all, as we did.
What happened next was goals to Rayner, Cameron, and Neale. Neale’s was a double 50 on the stroke of half time, where we cocked up a goal chance with one too many handballs, and suddenly found ourselves conceding one instead. In this quarter we shattered our mental grip on the Lions, played Cameron and Rayner into form. Like Cotchin, Neale doesn’t kick many, and the value for them is slightly more than six points like Cotch’s are for us. We were down 5.1.31 to 7.2.44 at the long break and it seemed like a welcome halt to the momentum.
Embed from Getty ImagesIt didn’t work. Four minutes into third term Cameron kicked his third, and the spell we (Grimes) have had over him was broken. Rioli kicked a wonderful snap in reply for us; he hasn’t had a great year but spring always sharpens him up. It was 52-38 and we were just staying in touch. It was a cracking game – as the scoring slowed after QT the pressure went to new levels throughout. Bailey got another for them. Young Keidean Coleman in his 5th game could have just about pushed it out of our reach but he was hauled down by Astbury with the timekeeper’s finger on the button for the 3QT siren. If he’d been content with a zig he would have been fine but he essayed a fateful zag. Dave’s tackle slipped down into a trip but umpies don’t care these days. We trailed 6.3.39 to 9.6.60.
Embed from Getty ImagesThe ageless Kam McIntosh scampered through the wing and set up Dan for his second. Shai executed another squiggly run and finished off with a goal that could have been remembered forever if it hadn’t brushed the post. Probably for the best as Bruce’s call of it deserves to be forgotten. Riewoldt took a difficult pack mark and slotted one to get us within nine points, and arguably we had the flow. Time ticked on, and our desperation started to work against us. Hipwood wasted a chance to seal it but Buggerlugs didn’t, giving the Lions a deserved 15 point win, 10.9.69 to 8.6.54.
The Benny
5: Graham carries such a load now for a young player – 9 tackles.
4: Cotchin had seven clearances and a goal
3: Short had 22 touches and always had his eyes up
2: Prestia is working back into some form
1: Astbury is unsung but was our best defender today
Leaderboard
30: Martin
22: Bolton
20: Short
18: Grimes, Vlastuin, Graham
15: Cotchin
14: Balta
12: McIntosh, Lambert
10: Riewoldt, Baker
9: McIntosh, Prestia
7: Pickett
6: Soldo
5: Higgins, Eggmolesse-Smith, Chol, Houli, Edwards
4: Caddy
3: Lynch
2: Aarts
1: Castagna, Astbury
Maurice Rioli Grip of Death Trophy for Tackles
Graham 60
Pickett 59
Lambert 54
Cotchin 47
Bolton 45
Malcolm says
“a zig he would have been fine but he essayed a fateful zag” – I love that line. If only the Channel 7 commentary team were capable of a phrase like this, as opposed to Bruce’s ludicrous hyperbole and James Brayshaw’s boof-headerisms.