Thursday 30 August 2012

Round 22 - Sydney v Hawthorn


Saturday 25 August, Sydney Cricket Ground


Hawks on top in Sin City



Readers who saw last week’s blog will have seen the dedication I included for my Dad, Peter, who died during the week.  This week’s post is therefore quite difficult to write, and belated as a result. For while I’ve spent the week in a fog of grief, I also find myself reporting on Hawthorn’s most exhilarating and memorable victory of the season so far, defeating the Swans in Sydney and grabbing top spot in the process.

It is surreal to write about the match in the context of Dad’s death, but that’s the context in which I experienced it, so it’s all I can do.

Also surreal was applying sunscreen before the match, for I had made the trip to Sydney, having arranged it some months previous. And the temperature was in the balmy mid 20s in mid afternoon. Although I was also torn between whether I should or shouldn’t go, in the end I went. And while I’d like to justify my decision on the basis that Dad would have wanted me to go, I can’t really; he wasn’t a Hawthorn fan – not even a football fan. He supported Liverpool and didn’t pay any more attention to Aussie Rules than his football mad family imposed on him. At best he would have wanted me to go purely because I’d already paid for it all. And this was essentially the reasoning to which I succumbed. I’m still not sure, however, whether it was the right decision. But, I reasoned, I was going to watch the match anyway, regardless of where I was, so I may as well be at the ground. Besides, Buddy was finally set to play.

Cheers, Buddy!
The Swans have been based in Sydney for 30 years, yet in all that time, which amounts to a generation, the local fans have still not grasped the finer points of the game’s adjudication. As a collective, is there a group of footy fans less conversant with the rules and nuances of the game? They moaned so much at every Hawthorn free kick you’d have thought the free kick count was 26 – 12 in our favour, and not theirs, as was actually the case. Early in the match Adam Goodes was penalised for deliberate out of bounds after he actually handballed it over the line, so not an entirely unreasonable decision, but it meant that from then on, every time the ball went out, a howl of indignant protest went up.  It was like a pantomime audience who have spied the bad guy doing something despicable behind the back of the good guy and try to warn him.

Which is a pity; because Sydney is a great team and they deserve a more knowledgeable crowd.  Their first quarter and a half was tough and intense and Hawthorn simply couldn’t get a clean disposal away. The backdrop of demolition at the city end of the ground is fitting scenery for the sort of siege football Sydney plays. It not only looks like they’re playing in a war zone, but their style of play is similar to a guerrilla unit in urban warfare.

Having seen a few Swans game this season, it’s a pattern that has occurred a few times previous; most notably against Essendon and Geelong, where they start with high intensity and establish a strong lead early, but are so exhausted they find it difficult to withstand the opposition late in the game. I was still desperately clinging to that thought as we slipped six goals down half way through the second quarter.

But then...welcome back Buddy! Three goals in 10 minutes as part of a mini glut of seven got the Hawks right back into the match, and only a late goal to the Swans prevented us from an unexpected half time lead.

In the third quarter we continued to play well and goaled through The Poo and Shields before Gunston snapped one to help us edge ahead at three quarter time.

I thought we were getting on top by the final change, but Sydney turned it on again in the last quarter and seemed to wrest the advantage around the ground, with Goodes typically getting the lead back for them. Happily a great free kick to The Poo helped raise the ire of the Sydney fans and got us back in it. Another goal to Buddy after a brilliant pass from Mitchell and then when Buddy set up Suckling, the scores were level.

When O’Keefe put Sydney in front with a great goal, I still gave us some hope, despite our poor record in close matches this season.  Surely we'd learned something from the Geelong match! Then Hodge set us up with a pass that may have been intended for Buddy, but which Burgoyne floated across to take. And to be honest, I was more confident of Burgoyne putting it through than I would have been if Buddy had taken the kick. With over 30 minutes gone, we still needed to win and maintain possession, and Hale and Mitchell got it out to Sewell who ran and bounced and slotted it from 50 to secure our most exciting and dramatic win of the season. I haven’t been as exultant all year as at that moment and I may have even executed one or two graceless leaps in the aisle waving my brown and gold scarf.

Another reason for my trip to Sydney was to visit an exhibition devoted to Patrick White, the Australian novelist who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1973. A long time reader of White, I was thrilled to see his notebooks with his original handwritten manuscripts for what became his great literary masterpieces. Impossible to decipher, but the raw stuff of art nonetheless. And for a lover of literature and Patrick White, quite breathtaking, though in the final analysis, not as exhilarating as watching that final brace of goals from Burgoyne and Sewell. This match was a masterpiece in its own right; I just hope we can follow it up it if we have to meet Sydney in the finals.

Interestingly, the Nobel Prize itself is included in the exhibition: it is a large gold medal that comes with a certificate signed by the King of Sweden, but which looks like it was designed by an admin assistant who has just discovered Photoshop.

While all the attention in this match went to Buddy’s return, it’s worth noting that Hodge played a great game and that Burgoyne played probably his best all-round game since coming to Hawthorn. Like Sewell, who is in ripping form, Burgoyne is playing superb, assured football each week. If the Norm Smith medal is the Nobel Prize’s equivalent, and why shouldn’t it be, I give him every chance of winning it if we can get there.


Final scores: Hawthorn 15  12  102  d  Sydney 14  11  95


Buddy goal tally: 4 = total, 55. Buddy behind tally: 3 = total, 52


What we loved: We’re on top!

Also Carlton getting beaten by the Gold Coast Suns and blowing their finals chances. Nearly as enjoyable as Hawthorn’s win.

Tuesday 21 August 2012

Round 21 - Hawthorn v Gold Coast Suns


MCG, Sunday 19 August 2012

Kokoda - land of the sinking suns


"Nausea, dizziness and headaches"
- little wonder
I’ve been unwell over the past few days, laid low by a virulent winter bug that has ravaged most of my family and friends in recent weeks. Not to be too melodramatic about it or appear like I’m a hapless hypochondriac, but it was really quite debilitating, involving a sore throat, fever, night sweats, a wracking cough, dizziness and a runny nose. At its worst I was on six Panadol and a pack of Butter Menthol a day. So quite bad you’ll agree, but with a nice easy game against the Gold Coast Suns approaching and the prospect of Buddy’s return to the team, I dragged myself heroically from my sick bed and headed to the G, only to learn via radio on the way that Buddy was out due to illness! Illness! What about me? I was making the effort; the least Buddy could do is turn up and slot a few goals. They didn’t have to be spectacular goals; just your routine, running, four bounces while dodging three defenders type goals would be fine.

I checked the Hawks website which informed me that he’d awoken on Saturday night with nausea, dizziness and headaches.  I also saw on the website that this was the Kokoda round and I immediately put two and two together: excited at the prospect of playing again, Buddy had gone to sleep with his match day jumper on the next pillow. Waking during the night he stared at the Kokoda jumper alongside him and was immediately overcome with nausea, dizziness and headaches induced by the riot of murky colours swirling about in the jumper design. Quite understandable really. What’s remarkable about the jumper design is not so much its sartorial drabness, although that is quite marked, but that it evokes in the viewer similar feelings of deprivation and hardship felt by the Australian troops who were actually under siege by Japanese forces in Papua New Guinea during the Second World War. Mind you, it’s still not as bad as the Suns’ Ironman inspired getup.


Behind the grassy knoll

While still in the car listening to Triple M Footy broadcast the Dogs v Swans game, the crew reported the rumours circulating on Twitter about the ‘real’ reason behind Buddy’s absence. You guessed it, the old three strikes story again. It seems that every time Buddy is late for a tattoo inking session or misses an appointment with his hair stylist, the same story that started in 2008 immediately resurfaces – that it’s an AFL suspension pending an announcement about failing a third drugs test. Surely people, we’re over this particular scuttlebutt. There are more conspiracy theories surrounding Buddy missing one match than there are about JFK’s assassination. As for Triple M reporting meaningless static from the Twittersphere as if it is news, well, that is simply staggering.  Mind you, given the songs they play in the name of music, it’s also not surprising.

But really, these mad conspiracy theories about Buddy have got to stop. Who is putting them about? The media? The Ballieu government? The ALP’s faceless men? The CIA, The US government? Mick Malthouse? You may scoff at any connection with these known agitators, these dark conservative forces, but their involvement is not so far-fetched. The reason behind Buddy’s prolonged absence has nothing to do with the AFL’s three strikes drug policy, his recent car accident, losing his licence for speeding, the misogynistic slogans of his t-shirt company or his choice of swimwear. There’s no second gun and no one sheltering behind a grassy knoll. I have it on good authority that the real reason for Buddy's extended spell on the sidelines stems from legal complexities surrounding his application for political asylum to Ecuador. Buddy has been out for the same period as Julian Assange has been holed up in the Ecuadorian embassy in London. Coincidence? I think not. Like all freedom fighters and vigilantes for truth, Buddy is routinely persecuted by dark forces of evil (Mick Malthouse) and my best guess is that he’s joining Julian Assange seeking refuge in the Ecuadorean embassy. Well it’s just as likely as the three strikes scenario.


On the hallowed turf

There was a crowd of 23,098 (23!) at the MCG for this match being played in the Twilght Zone timeslot of 4.40 on a Sunday.  It’s lucky the announcement about Buddy’s withdrawal was left until late, because otherwise a good 25 per cent of these people may well have stayed home. And we could have dwindled to an NRL-size gathering.

It was disappointing for those who did turn up that Buddy wasn’t playing, but at least Gary Ablett was out there putting on a show.  He’s about the closest thing in the AFL to a one-man team, similar to Chris Judd in his first year at Carlton, or even Jobe Watson this year at Essendon.  Ablett was everywhere, and sure he made a few mistakes – kicking out on the full, dribbling it out of bounds, getting caught holding the ball in the goal square – but he had so much of the ball that it was inevitable really. His mistakes largely come because his team mates don’t know how to support him or he’s caught trying to bail one of them out of dire peril. I certainly won’t begrudge him another Brownlow for the trouble he goes to each week, though obviously I’d rather see the medal draped around Roughead’s elegant neck. Having said that, in assessing the match at the end, we decided Ablett deserved the 3, 2 and 1 Brownlow votes.

As for the Hawks, well it wasn’t our most polished and determined effort, and hardly befitting the Kokoda spirit supposedly enshrined in the jumper we were wearing. Let’s just say that if the blokes defending Port Moresby on the Kokoda in the Second World War displayed a similar level of intensity and determination, then they’d have never turned back the Japanese armed forces. But the Hawks were only playing the Suns, who don’t have quite the firepower of the Japanese military. And while Japan may be known as the land of the rising sun - it will be a few more years before these particular Suns rise too much higher up the ladder.

In the end the Hawks won by 10 goals in a game where, thanks to other results going our way, a win by any margin was sufficient. And we did it without our two best forwards, our best midfielder and our best defender. Not quite the backs to the wall performance of the original Kokoda fighters, but a reasonable effort all things considered.  It was hardly inspiring, but it was never going to be. Smith kicked a couple of nice running goals, Hodge was busy and precise, Gunston marked and kicked well, Bateman was back, Lewis was being a he-man as always, Ellis was getting the ball and only turning it over occasionally, but slotting a couple of goals, while The Cobbler kicked a beautiful right foot snap over his shoulder for the second of two first quarter goals – you won’t see that very often. Birchall and Hale were both excellent.

Remembering the dark days of the late 90s and mid noughties, I’ll take a 10 goal win against anyone any day.  I would just prefer the games were held at a time more conducive to watching football.  But either way, next week we have a chance to go to the top of the ladder if we beat the Swans. The Hawks don’t always play so well against Sydney, let alone in Sydney, especially without Cyril, but we won there last year and we’re playing better now than at that stage, so a win is possible. Hawks on top!


Final scores: Hawthorn 19  15  129 d Gold Coast Suns 10  5  65.


What we like: Essendon crashing and burning.



In loving memory of my Dad, Peter: 5/7/1930 - 21/8/2012





Tuesday 14 August 2012

Round 20 - Hawthorn v Port Adelaide


Sunday 12 August 2012, Aurora Stadium, Launceston


A closing ceremony to remember



A specky!
You can only sit back and enjoy the incredible ball skills; the athleticism and litheness, the pivots and precision passing, the slick teamwork and synchronicity, the immaculate control and choreography, the deft touches and dextrous taps, the graceful movement and of course the provocative glimpses of gusset. Really, watching the ball routine in the women’s group rhythmic gymnastics final at the Olympics was a lot like watching Hawthorn’s final quarter burst against Port, with the possible exception of the gusset shots, though if that’s what you’re looking for…


And all of this was without Buddy or Cyril. Imagine how much more sprightly and sinuous we’ll be with Buddy and Cyril back in the line-up, rolling the ball down one arm, across the back of their shoulders and then down the other, or bouncing it off their crotches into a team mate's waiting arms.

Schoenmakers' ball routine in the rhythmic gymnastics final
For while the closing ceremony of the Olympic Games was held in London on Sunday night London time, a far more dynamic and exciting closing ceremony took place in Launceston on Sunday afternoon. I mean as far as closing ceremonies go, how can you beat an 11 goal final quarter? Sure you can revive a lot of tired old performers from the 80s to trot out their old hits – George Michael, Annie Lennox, Ray Davies, Madness, Pet Shop Boys  – all we needed was Bob Geldof and it could have been Live Aid all over again; they even had Freddie Mercury and he’s been dead for 20 years.  But how does that compare to Hale taking a contested mark to slot our first for the quarter, with the scores perilously close at 17 points! Followed by Gilham, of all people.  Then one for the Poo, another to Hale, another to The Poo, one to Suckling, then Hodgey iceing his 200th game with a nice goal, a third for the quarter to The Poo, making it five for the match, then Hale again, followed by Lewis and finally at the 33 minute mark, Goo dobs one! In 28 minutes we’d increased our lead by 55 points, from 17 points to 72! Surely that’s a far more spectacular finale than supermodels on trucks, Spice Girls in cabs and Russell Brand in a psychedelic bus.

Just on Queen though, it was one thing for Freddie to kneel in front of Brian May in a faux fellatio posture as the guitarist cranked out another overly long solo – after all, that was Freddie – but for 24 year old Jessie J, wearing a flesh coloured leotard, to adopt a similar pose in front of the 65 year old May as she took Freddie’s vocals for We Will Rock You, well that was just a little bit disturbing. Though I’m sure it gave Brian’s ax work an extra edge. And full marks to Brian May, whose familiar mien, though greying, must exceed even John Platten in the most enduring hairstyle stakes.


Sacked coach syndrome

In the weeks leading up to this match it seemed like it would form part of a mini oasis for Hawthorn; playing Port and Gold Coast in between a series of tough battles with five of the top eight teams. Added to this was Hawthorn’s blistering form over recent weeks, even taking into account the narrow loss to Geelong (sorry to remind you), and Port’s poor form.  So there really should have been nothing to worry about. Then Port lost to competition bunnies, GWS.

On one hand this suggests they’ve reached a form nadir, meaning there should be even less reason for Hawks fans to worry. Then however, Port sacked their coach Matthew Primus. Setting aside questions of why they appointed him in the first place, this move introduced ‘sacked coach syndrome’ into the match dynamic. And as everyone knows, nothing spurs on a team like the knowledge that they’ve just brought about the premature dismissal of their coach. Caretaker coaches often enjoy an unlikely victory first up. Added to this, Buddy still wasn’t fit to play and on the morning of the match The Rough is ruled out.

Things didn’t get any better when the game started with Port attacking the ball, winning possession and running free to create space. All of which saw them take the first five shots at goal. Happily, they missed more than they kicked, and when we eventually scrapped the ball forward, Gunston was awarded a free kick. Then, what a surprise, Cyril goes down behind play. Who would have thought that in Buddha Hocking’s first match as coach, a Hawthorn star would be flattened behind play, miles from the ball? Good to see Hodge taking on the entire Port team at the break, though perhaps it would have been more entertaining to see Clarko and Buddha go at it.

Thankfully Cyril got up and got things going for us with a clearance and goal within 10 seconds of the second quarter. A couple more deft touches from Cyril and we’d added six in a row, including a couple to the ‘X man’, Xavier Ellis, in his return match. But with Cyril subbed off after being crunched again, and a hardly commanding 26 point lead, I was thankful we were only playing Port.

As it is they outscored us in the third quarter, and when Stewart kicked the first goal of the final quarter we were only 17 points up and it looked like sacked coach syndrome was taking effect. Cue the dancers and choirs for the 11 goal closing ceremony.

The Hawks weren’t quite as assured in this match as the 72 point margin suggests, and we are still overly reliant on Sam Mitchell. Though in this match Birchall was equally good and proved how crucial he is to our performance.


Final scores: Hawthorn 24  15  159 d Port Adelaide 13  9  87


What we liked: The X man returning to the team. Sure there were a couple of dinky kicks that became turnovers, but I like him anyway. And you’ve gotta love The Poo’s 5 goals.

In our five matches without Buddy, we’ve won four and in each of those someone has kicked 4 or 5 goals: Gunston 4 against the Bulldogs, Lewis and Breust 5 each against Collingwood, Hodge 5 and Suckling 4 against Essendon, Gunston 4 against Geelong and The Poo 5 and Hale 4 against Port. Still, would like to see Buddy back this week – the 100 goals 100 behinds dream has faded in the past five weeks, but he can still win the Coleman.

What we didn’t like: Cyril going down behind play. And Hartlett gets just two weeks! And tries to overturn it! And worse: Cyril out for 2-3 weeks.


What bemused us: Geelong coach Chris Scott complaining about the umpires in the West Coast game. He didn’t seem quite so quick to criticise the week previous when Cyril wasn’t paid a free kick for his tackle on Mitch Duncan. And if the deliberate out of bounds rule was being so misapplied, why did the Geelong players keep appealing every single time the ball went out of bounds – often before it crossed the line. Watch the video. Perhaps if Chris Scott’s players stopped overreacting and appealing, the umpires might make less of it.

And on the Cyril non-free kick, Gieschen commented that it wasn’t a free because Duncan was blindsided and hadn’t seen Rioli. So it was Cyril’s fault for being too fast! What’s he meant to do – send an advance text? If we needed any further evidence that you don’t put Richmond people in charge of anything, this was it. Leash the Giecsh I say.

Sunday 5 August 2012

Round 19 - Hawthorn v Geelong


Friday 3 August, MCG


Groundhog Day…again



The sealer - the last time we beat Geelong
Is that a tautology, to say Groundhog Day again? Whatever the figure of speech, it was a cruel, heartbreaking loss for the Hawks. At quarter time victory was unthinkable; at three quarter time, just possible; with two minutes remaining, verging on inevitable; but by the final siren the loss was unbearable.

The pattern in most of the previous eight meetings between Hawthorn and Geelong is that we build up a nice lead, not unassailable (clearly), but useful, and then they haul us in, we fluff several attempts to seal the game and they overtake us with one or two minutes remaining. Well this time was different: they had an unassailable lead at quarter time which over the next three quarters we slowly, heroically eroded, overtaking them with a few minutes remaining. At last we had them! At last, a taste of their own medicine! Take that Chappy! How do you like that one Jimmy!

Of course we all know what happened next and I’m certainly not going to rake over it again. Witnessing it was horrific enough without having to offer a forensic breakdown of events.  For my views on Geelong see post 4 of this blog. 

I do have two questions though:

1. What did The Poo think he was doing? With the ball bouncing out in our forward pocket Puopolo suddenly imagined he was Steve Johnson attempting a sort of scissor kick from mid-air on the boundary line for the miracle goal. Fine when you’re 15 goals up on GWS, but not so strategically astute when you’re clinging to a narrow lead. Really, the best he could have hoped for was a behind, which would have been to Geelong’s advantage anyway. What we needed at that moment was possession, not points. Why wouldn’t you just let it bounce out of bounds? Or just take possession if you must and get bundled over the line? But kick it across goal to Geelong so they can run it upfield…

2. Why wasn’t Cyril awarded a free kick for incorrect disposal just prior to this? A Geelong player takes possession and attempts to dash out of defence with the ball, is tackled by Cyril and brought to the ground as the ball spills free. In what parallel version of the game is this not a free kick to the tackler? Had there been a sudden rule change at three quarter time that I was unaware of?  An umpiring oversight the next night that gave Collingwood victory over St.Kilda made it two matches in succession decided by blatant  umpiring error. Unforgivable.


The kick

As for Tom Hawkins’ winning kick, like every Hawks fan, I’ve been to enough of these Hawthorn Geelong matches to know that from the moment he took the mark he’d kick the goal. Never mind that he’d miss the same kick 9 times out of 10 against any other opponent at any other venue on any other day – against Hawthorn with one second left on the clock he was always going to slot it.

The day after the match was my son’s birthday and we went to Luna Park to celebrate. Riding the Scenic Railway I couldn’t help but reflect on the match. The slow climb up the first hill to the top resembled Hawthorn’s gradual, painstaking comeback; then the plateau where the balance was even. That moment, however, when we plummeted down the first steep dip and I felt the lurch in my stomach...that is exactly how I felt when the ball left Hawkins’ boot.


Coming second

But like most Australians, I’ve recently become accustomed to watching the subject of my support fail to live up to expectations, to trip at the last hurdle and come in second. Adam Scott at the British Open: four strokes up with four holes to play and he bogeys the lot to lose.  The Australian cricket team: number one in the world in one-day cricket – 4-nil losers to England with our best result being a washout. Samantha Stosur: cruising through Wimbledon only to lose to some no-name. Cadel Evans: running second and poised to strike in the Tour de France, only to fall back to the pack. Casey Stoner, Mark Webber – the ability to win is deserting Australians. And then the Olympics: the mens  4x100 relay team, James Magnussen – the fastest man in water, well, second fastest it would seem, Melanie Schlanger, Bronte Barratt, Emily Seebohm, Liesel Jones, Anna Meares, Mitchell Watt, the various rowing skulls…the list goes on. I already feel for Sally Pearson in the hurdles; as current world champion and an Australian she has virtually no chance. With this backdrop of sporting miscarriage, I was somewhat mentally equipped to cope with yet another narrow defeat to Geelong.


Laying blame

Of course I blame myself.  Thinking I was important; imagining I was part of some special coterie, I accepted an invitation to attend the match as part of a corporate function. This required me wearing a suit and tie, which meant I couldn’t wear my lucky ensemble – a brown/blue checked Jag shirt over a stylish v-neck tee depicting the history of Hawks logos – that I’ve donned for every match of our eight game winning streak.  This hubris of mine in believing I was some high-end wheeler and dealer may have cost us the match. Had I just sat in the usual spot in the MCC members with my normal Hawks believers in my normal footy gear, I feel it’s very likely we would have won. So don’t blame The Poo. Don’t blame The Cobbler. Blame me.

Having said that, the function was very nice with lively and engaging company, beautiful food (pan-fried salmon followed by a sort of rhubarb crumble), a liberal drinks menu, great elevated seats on the wing and a pre-match speech by Johnny Platten. The problem is of course that while I can masquerade as a debonair man of refined manners and wit for the duration of dinner, once the game starts I’m revealed for the Hawthorn hoodlum I truly am with shouts of “Ball!”, “Boo!” , “Deck him!” and probably worse. It was a 9 goal to 2 first quarter after all, so I suspect my carefully manufactured facade of urbane corporate sophistication was well and truly shredded by quarter time.

But it was no better in the Members. When I caught up with my friends post-match I learned that during the cut and thrust of inter-supporter banter during the game, one of my cohorts had been called the C-bomb. By a girl! To balance it out she’d also received a marriage proposal and a racially based tweet. Just another night in the MCC Members it seems.

And for us, in the end, just another narrow loss to the Cats. Possibly the cruellest one yet in our recent run. You get the sense Geelong planned it this way: Gain an unsurpassable lead, let them surpass it, let them believe, and then snatch it from them.

Perhaps the Kennett curse is real. We may just have to hold some public sacrificial flaying or burning of him before we can hope to beat Geelong again. On the other hand, if this is the price we’re paying for beating them in the 2008 Grand Final, then fine. It’s worth it. They can have all the home & away wins they like for all I care, so long as we can win the ones that really matter. And I suspect Geelong fans might feel the same way. The longer this goes on, the more fretful they’ll be on Grand Final day should we ever meet there again. Because this hoodoo has to end one day, and I’m sure Geelong would rather it be on some nondescript Friday night than on the last Saturday in September.


Final scores:  Geelong 18. 10. 118 d Hawthorn  17.  14.  116


Buddy goal tally - 0 = total, 51


Buddy behinds tally - 0 = total, 49


What we'd like: Buddy!


What we don't like: that we're doomed to have to watch that goal endlessly