Well, one of the 2009 preliminary finals might have been a match for the ages, but the other was a massive anticlimax, at least in the second half. The Magpies have been one of the better sides going around this year, but they were made to look decidedly second rate after halftime by a Cats side with redemption on its mind. Indeed, after the Pies opened with the first two goals of the game, 17 of the next 21 went the way of Geelong, including 6 to nil in the final quarter. By this stage most Collingwood supporters had made a beeline for the exits, with only the hard core sticking it out to the bitter end. The big question was: was former wrestling champ Hulk Hogan among them? The Hulkster had appeared as if from nowhere at halftime, delighting the crowd with a few trademark moves and then delivering a fairly well executed handball into the stands. Perhaps Mick Malthouse should have whacked a Magpie jumper on him and kept him out on the ground for the second half, he couldn't have done any worse than those out there in black and white. A disappointing end to the season for the Magpie army, but the Cats faithful will have watched with a real sense of excitement as their side roared into its third straight Grand Final - it will take a good team to stop them reversing last year's disappointment.
And St Kilda, make no mistake, is a very good team indeed. Winning 20 home and away games is no small achievement, and it could easily have been 22- their two losses were by less than a kick, both against teams they were unbackable favourites to demolish. It's terrific that once again we've got a Grand Final between the two unquestionably best teams in the season thus far, and if the big match is half as good as the Round 14 match where the two sides slugged out a one goal result (Saints won) then we're in for a mighty treat.
Grand Final week kicked off in customary fashion, with a couple of drunken incidents at the Brownlow Medal count. This time, as in so many cases before, Carlton's Brendan Fevola was the main offender. Fev was, perhaps foolishly, handed the microphone for the fairly tired Footy Show's "Streettalk" segment, replacing the fairly tired Sam Newman who had himself managed to once more disgrace himself repeatedly. Too boring to explain exactly why, but Sam was on the nose with the footy community to the extent that he was persona non grata at the big night. As indeed was Fev afterwards, after putting in a performance that Mickey Rourke on a pub crawl at Schoolies would be proud of. Still, he did better than ex-Brownlow winner Jason Akermanis, Aka went slightly too hard at the Bulldogs' Mad Monday celebrations and didn't make it to the Brownlow at all. Which disappointed his wife somewhat, as she'd already bought the dress and gotten the fake tan done. Hell hath no fury like a woman terracotted for nothing.
Inside the actual event, though, things finally went according to plan for Gary Ablett Jr, who finally won after being favourite for three consecutive years. It was a deserved victory, the Little Maestro has done the seemingly impossible by putting his illustrious father into the shade, and there's no reason why he can't win at least another medal in the time he's got left. The count was decided by Round 20, which would have come as a huge relief to Ablett who'd been reeled in at the death in previous years. For a while it looked as though one of the Saints might spoil Gazza's night - and they'll certainly be aiming to spoil this weekend for him - but they ended up spoiling each other's chances by taking votes from each other. Former winner Chris Judd of the Blues came runner up with a highly respectable 22 votes, enough to win in many years, but this year he was well behind, Ablett scored a lazy 30.
But apart from the actual result, and the opportunity to drink like a lunatic, the Brownlow night is all about the wives and girlfriends of the players concerned. It's an opportunity to shine for the WAGs, and most of them get it right. There's always one or two who don't, however, and this year it was the hitherto unheard of Brynne Gordon, soon to be wife of disgraced ex-medico and one time owner of the Sydney Swans in their 1980s-Warwick-Capper-in-the-short-shorts-pink-helicopters-best-forgotten-all-round-era, Geoffrey Edelsten. Gordon turned up in an outfit Britney Spears would have balked at as "a tad raunchy", check it out here- http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/sport/afl/double-barrel-blast-for-brynne-gordon-over-that-dress/story-fn423fp2-1225778330577 But the real question surely went unanswered: who the hell invited Edelsten to attend the Brownlow in the first place? Was it an 80s theme this year? Was Capper sitting up the front somewhere in the gold lame shorts, perhaps escorted by Mark "Jacko" Jackson or Rene "The Incredible Hulk" Kink? A dumber call than whoever decided that Fev was a safe bet to handle a live microphone.
So with just days to go until season 2009 disappears into the rear-vision mirror of memory, who should you be putting your hard earned on this weekend? Well, it's a tough call. On the one hand, St Kilda have been the best performed side in 2009. They beat Geelong in their only clash, have an unbelievably stingy defence, and will go into the big game with 99% of the neutral support given their long wait for a flag. On the other hand, Geelong have a massive motivation to prove that last year's defeat was a blip rather than an indication of some greater flaw, and have far more big game experience than their opponents. A lot will depend on how their forward line operates, if they kick like they did last year then you would have to think that they'll struggle to get a winning score. At the other end, the battle between Nick Riedwolt and whoever the Cats put on him, probably Matthew Scarlett, will be pivotal. Riedwolt has had a blinder in the finals so far, and if he gets a run on then he could just about get the Saints home. In the middle, it's a clash between the Rolls Royces and the Aston Martins, getting on top here will be vital. My call- Saints. No, Cats. Actually, I have no idea, it's going to be a belter.
Enjoy the big day, let's hope the entertainment both pre-game and during the big match is worthy of the event. If you're enjoying a drink or two remember the tragic experiences of Fev and Aka and keep it in moderation! See you back here for the Big Game Wrap.
22 September 2009
18 September 2009
Preliminary Final 1: Saints vs Bulldogs
No time to explain where the Wrap has been for the last few months, I probably couldn't give you a coherent or logical answer myself. Suffice it to say that work has played a role in ensuring that, while I've been in close proximity to a keyboard at all stages, getting to write about footy hasn't been on the cards. Still, let's leap ahead, ignoring the Dons' magnificent rise and fall, the Blues' similar rise from the depth, the Western Derby match that seemed intent on proving that they play by different rules out west, and last week's match between Adelaide and Collingwood that wasn't over until it was over...and even then, there were doubts. To the prelims!
Somehow, we ended up with a game between the AFL's most loveable losers, the Saints and Dogs. In a combined history of nearly 200 years (keeping in mind that the Dogs entered the comp a quarter century after the Saints), they have won a grand total of two flags between them. The Dogs, in fact, have appeared just twice on the final weekend in September, while the Saints have at least appeared five times (in 1997, 1971, 1966 (for the win), 1965 and 1913 (the one nobody remembers, they lost to Fitzroy of all teams). A game between the two teams could only result in a win for all of the neutrals, but also a sad sense of loss. Sad that a game between the two sides had to result in a loser, but at least the hardcore supporters of the two sides have decades of preparation for such an event.
To put the reader in the frame of mind that I was in when I rocked up at Eastlakes to take in the big game, I should let you in on the email that I received three hours before the game. Keeping in mind that I am one of the nation's great army of dedicated public servants, I'm sure that you will enjoy, as I did, an email from the Minister's office that began with the line: "The Minister is going to be doing Laurie Oakes on Sunday morning". There's a fantastic mental image to go into the weekend with! Is there a winner there, any more than in the Saints-Dogs game? Sure, politics is a tough game, but dear, oh dear! Can't imagine Paul Bongiorno going to the same extent for a story, somehow, I think that Jim Waley might have let it go through to the keeper too!
With my head still spinning, I showed up at Eastlakes for the big game, only to find that the only available seat was in the middle of the Ascot Vale over 35s side on their end of season trip. They kindly allowed me to sit with them, with only the odd "Hey poofter! What's with the tie!" comment to go on with. I suppose rocking up in the suit direct from work to a game between a working class side and a bohemian outfit pretty much ranked such a welcome. But keeping in mind that I've also been turned away from Eastlakes this season for sporting a pair of trackydacks, it's a tough ask to get the dress code exactly right. Must try harder.
To the game- you won't see a tougher, more hard fought encounter if you watch a million seasons. Not since the 1996 preliminary between the Dons and the Swans can there have been a game where every time the ball hit the ground the heart of every supporter would leap to their throat in quite the same manner. The Dogs leapt from their kennel in the manner of a particularly swift greyhound, but failed to capitalise in any effective manner in the opening half.
Everyone expected a Saints push in the third, and it duly followed, but they didn't manage to establish a winning break. The final quarter was agony for everyone watching, the Ascot Vale crew (who were pretty much all for the Dogs) were spewing profanities left, right and centre as the quarter went on. And nobody copped more invective than the umpire who decided that a 50 metre boot in the direction of the Dogs goal that wandered across the boundary line somehow warranted a Saints free that ultimately led to a goal for St Kilda that pretty much ensured the final margin- Saints into the granny, the Dogs yet again denied. Hard to argue that St Kilda, after a 20-2 home and away season, don't deserve to be on the last weekend, but gee, when will the Dogs' moment arrive?
One more prelim to go, and tomorrow we'll find out who the Saints will tackle next week. On Sunday morning we'll know the result of Geelong vs Collingwood, and also the result of the winner of the Minister vs Laurie Oakes encounter. I know which battle I'm going to enjoy watching more! Barring some sort of calamity, we'll have the Cats-Pies result up on Sunday, and be back for the GF the week after. Thanks for keeping the faith, see you back soon!
Somehow, we ended up with a game between the AFL's most loveable losers, the Saints and Dogs. In a combined history of nearly 200 years (keeping in mind that the Dogs entered the comp a quarter century after the Saints), they have won a grand total of two flags between them. The Dogs, in fact, have appeared just twice on the final weekend in September, while the Saints have at least appeared five times (in 1997, 1971, 1966 (for the win), 1965 and 1913 (the one nobody remembers, they lost to Fitzroy of all teams). A game between the two teams could only result in a win for all of the neutrals, but also a sad sense of loss. Sad that a game between the two sides had to result in a loser, but at least the hardcore supporters of the two sides have decades of preparation for such an event.
To put the reader in the frame of mind that I was in when I rocked up at Eastlakes to take in the big game, I should let you in on the email that I received three hours before the game. Keeping in mind that I am one of the nation's great army of dedicated public servants, I'm sure that you will enjoy, as I did, an email from the Minister's office that began with the line: "The Minister is going to be doing Laurie Oakes on Sunday morning". There's a fantastic mental image to go into the weekend with! Is there a winner there, any more than in the Saints-Dogs game? Sure, politics is a tough game, but dear, oh dear! Can't imagine Paul Bongiorno going to the same extent for a story, somehow, I think that Jim Waley might have let it go through to the keeper too!
With my head still spinning, I showed up at Eastlakes for the big game, only to find that the only available seat was in the middle of the Ascot Vale over 35s side on their end of season trip. They kindly allowed me to sit with them, with only the odd "Hey poofter! What's with the tie!" comment to go on with. I suppose rocking up in the suit direct from work to a game between a working class side and a bohemian outfit pretty much ranked such a welcome. But keeping in mind that I've also been turned away from Eastlakes this season for sporting a pair of trackydacks, it's a tough ask to get the dress code exactly right. Must try harder.
To the game- you won't see a tougher, more hard fought encounter if you watch a million seasons. Not since the 1996 preliminary between the Dons and the Swans can there have been a game where every time the ball hit the ground the heart of every supporter would leap to their throat in quite the same manner. The Dogs leapt from their kennel in the manner of a particularly swift greyhound, but failed to capitalise in any effective manner in the opening half.
Everyone expected a Saints push in the third, and it duly followed, but they didn't manage to establish a winning break. The final quarter was agony for everyone watching, the Ascot Vale crew (who were pretty much all for the Dogs) were spewing profanities left, right and centre as the quarter went on. And nobody copped more invective than the umpire who decided that a 50 metre boot in the direction of the Dogs goal that wandered across the boundary line somehow warranted a Saints free that ultimately led to a goal for St Kilda that pretty much ensured the final margin- Saints into the granny, the Dogs yet again denied. Hard to argue that St Kilda, after a 20-2 home and away season, don't deserve to be on the last weekend, but gee, when will the Dogs' moment arrive?
One more prelim to go, and tomorrow we'll find out who the Saints will tackle next week. On Sunday morning we'll know the result of Geelong vs Collingwood, and also the result of the winner of the Minister vs Laurie Oakes encounter. I know which battle I'm going to enjoy watching more! Barring some sort of calamity, we'll have the Cats-Pies result up on Sunday, and be back for the GF the week after. Thanks for keeping the faith, see you back soon!
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