Season 2013 - Preface

There’s no dandies in Craigieburn

Hawthorn v North Melbourne practice match - Saturday 16 March 2013

The hallowed turf at Highgate

Footy season was upon us in a matter of minutes.  Just a few days after a record breaking hot spell of eight days above 32 degrees Celsius, we were still enjoying balmy autumn weather when my son and I decided to trek out to the Badlands of Craigieburn for Hawthorn’s practice match against North Melbourne.


Our departure was delayed while we applied sun screen, but by the time we arrived at Highgate Reserve, the temperature had plummeted, the wind was up and driving rain was spearing us as we walked into the ground. Footy season arrived while we were in the car!


The Hawks were 4 goals to 2 in front when we arrived and there was a good crowd in; a couple of thousand Hawks fans and a couple of hundred North fans – so the entire Kangaroos membership base. The field looked good and there was a pleasant old-style suburban footy atmosphere, with kids kicking footballs on the grass embankment and the mass pack forming behind the goals every time a player lined up a shot, which naturally enough turned into a sprawling stacks-on pile as kids fought over the ball – until Security arrived of course. All it lacked were cars parked around the boundary with horns to signal goals.


You could tell the weather had turned by the fact that the queue for coffee was longer than the queue for beer. But an even longer queue formed in the third quarter of Hawthorn players taking their turn to line up for goal.


The Hawks fielded a reasonably full strength side, although there were a few players that looked unfamiliar – no. 32, no. 37 and no. 35, and a few whose names I’d forgotten (Stratton, that’s right), but of course the big no. 23 was there.

Watching Buddy take the field in Craigieburn is like seeing Radiohead play the Burvale hotel in East Burwood.  There’s something incongruous about seeing a thoroughbred like Buddy in a place like Craigieburn – he’s certainly the most glamorous thing to ever hit the area. At least since the Hume Freeway.


As for the North side, well who’d know whether they put out a full strength team? Petrie and Harvey were there, but the others are all such no names you’d never know whether they were rookies or 200 game veterans. It’s no surprise that Harvey and North were behind the push over summer to have the players’ names printed on the backs of jumpers, as no one knows who the North players are. Most likely Harvey doesn’t know their names either and is pushing this agenda so he knows whose name to call for the ball.


A decent half-time lead to the Hawks blew out in the third quarter as they capitalised on a strong breeze and brought the ball inexorably forward. Buddy marked strongly and slotted a couple, although you couldn't help but wonder where he would have been without the sage advice of the pundit on the fence, who between sips of VB, gave Buddy directions (“Bud, drop back, drop back.” Bud, go right mate, go right.”), as if someone who’s won two Coleman medals and kicked over 100 goals in a season can’t read the play and requires personal coaching from a bloke sucking cans.


And our man was emblematic of the fashion sense prevailing in Craigieburn. On the eve of the L’Oreal Melbourne Fashion Festival, it was apparent that the look for men was trackie dacks and ill-fitting t-shirt, while for women, black leggings worn as pants was de rigeur.  Admittedly, the unexpected cold snap had forced me back to the car where the only garment I could rustle up was a white towel which I draped about myself cape style. So I don’t criticise Craigieburn couture with any sense of superiority, but it is perhaps telling that I still seemed to be the only one making an effort.


As the third quarter came to an end, a looming black cloud grew ominously blacker, and given the Hawks were 70 odd points in front and we were freezing, we decided to head off back down the Hume Highway to Melbourne. And lucky we did because the cloud opened in a biblical downpour that rendered driving nearly impossible, let alone playing football.


I subsequently heard the match was abandoned half way through the final quarter, ostensibly because of the risk of injury, but quite possibly the Hawthorn players were simply growing uneasy about leaving their luxury cars unsupervised for so long in Craigieburn. I mean how long can a Lexus or an Audi, to say nothing of a Ferrari, remain undisturbed in the Badlands of Cragieburn.