Round 13 - Hawthorn v West Coast

Friday 21 June, Etihad Stadium

On the Solstice

Shortest day, long night

Ra: the Egyptian Sun God - clearly the ancients
loved the hawks!

The winter solstice is when the Sun reaches its furthest north position in the sky before moving back towards the south, marking the turning point in the year’s cycle of light; the moment we move from the dormancy, darkness and cold of winter and begin to emerge into the light. In AFL terms this means we conclude the boring bye rounds and turn for the run home to the finals.

It is the shortest day of the year, and therefore the longest night, which comes as no surprise to Hawks fans anxious for the siren to sound to end a match in which our five goal lead over the Eagles was ebbing away like midwinter light as the final quarter wore on.

“Solstice” comes from Latin: sol meaning "sun" and sistere meaning “to stand still”, because it appears as though the sun and moon have stopped moving across the sky…not unlike our midfield as the final quarter counted down and the Eagles continued to bring the ball forward where the umpires, like agents of darkness, summoned free kicks for West Coast.

The siren did finally sound with the ball in Gunston’s hands as he lined up for goal, as sure a symbol as any of the renewal of light and nature’s rebirth, of life’s triumph over death. And just as the solstice is commemorated with ritual and sacred song, so too this fine victory with a rousing chorus of “We’re a happy team at Hawthorn” ringing the stadium.

Roughead - the Sun God

Ra or Rough gets a well earned rub-down

If we had a Sun God on the night, it was Jarryd Roughead. Perhaps it was his ginger hair and beard, a fiery mane that meant he at least looked the part, but either way, he gave us plenty to worship.

In the first quarter alone he kicked our first two goals, three of the first five and set up our sixth with a deft tap to Breust.

He continued to pluck marks all night, ended up with five goals – including a couple just when we needed them. He could have kicked more but was overcome by a deity-like instinct to share, when really; the better option might have been for him to hog the limelight. Particularly as his two passes resulted in a grand total of one point.

Pictured here is Ra, the Egyptian Sun God. Notice anything? Well clearly ‘Ra’is an ancient abbreviation of Rarr or even Roughead. And that face looks somewhat familiar – to say nothing of those wings.

Our first goal was one of the highlights of the quarter: From the back line Guerra got it to Stratton, who kicked to Hale, who found Hodge, who passed to Breust, who went to Lewis who got it over the top to the Rough running into an open goal. Seven players, more than a third of the team, combining beautifully to kick a goal in less time than it took me to type that sentence.

The other highlight of a cracking first quarter in which both teams kicked six goals came courtesy of just one bloke – Nic Naitanui. Taking the ball directly from a toss up (why don’t we call it a ‘throw up’?) in the goal square, Naitanui was so quick no one had time to lay a finger on him before he kicked it through.

Naitanui played a great game. In addition to goal of the match, he was the standout ruckman, leaping high in the ruck to win the tap, and even taking a specci in the final quarter.

“Here comes the sun…do do do do…”

Here Comes the Sun, The Beatles

The second quarter, however, was when we established the crucial break that would remain the difference between the teams for rest of the match. Le Cras goaled early to give the Eagles an 8 point lead, though even this was dubious: from my vantage point on level 2 you could see the divot he made when sliding to take the mark, and all of it was over the boundary line.

But this injustice was followed by six unanswered Hawthorn goals: Breust, Gunston (twice), Buddy, Rough and Savage. It could have been more had Rough been a tad more selfish and Buddy not been penalised for taking a strong mark while being held – a free kick no one at the ground could quite follow.

The Eagles fought back in the third but again, the Rough took a towering mark to kick his fifth and maintain our lead. Buddy tapped cleverly to Breust for another and Lewis threaded through a nice one from a set shot near the boundary.

In the final quarter the Hawks dominated but couldn’t quite score. Nor could Buddy win a free kick, despite being, well held isn’t the word, more like groped. It was I suspect, the winter darkness mounting a final, if futile, resistance before being banished by the post-solstice light, which came from Gunston and then Simpkin, before Gunston’s post siren closer.


Final score: Hawthorn  19  9  123  d  West Coast 16  7  103


What we learned: The hyper-inflation surrounding Buddy’s ‘offers’ continues to grow at South American rates.  The Herald–Sun ran a feature during the week reporting that the GWS offer is now up to $12 million over six years. This is just one week after they reported that it was $10 million over the same period and three weeks since they reported it was $9 million. It’s gone up by $3 million in just three weeks, a period in which Buddy has kicked just eight goals. Imagine if he was in form! At this rate it will be up to about $30 million over six years by the time he has to make a decision. No wonder he’s holding out.

And so far, the journos at the people’s paper haven’t presented any evidence of these offers or provided any actuarial tables or fiduciary data to support such figures or why they’re escalating so rapidly. No interviews with Buddy, his manager or anyone at GWS. I wonder if they require a little more financial rigour and exactitude of their Business reporters.

It’s seems that every journo who tackles this topic has to add a million or it appears he or she isn’t doing their job.

And I wonder if the GWS accountant – is that still Scully’s dad? – is keeping up with these figures? And what sort of fucking salary cap have they got? It seems nearly as open-ended as the USA’s defence budget, or even the Swans’ salary cap.

Either way, we could do without Demetriou pimping on GWS’s behalf!


What we already knew: Watching your team play the Eagles with Dennis Cometti commentating is a bit like watching Collingwood with Eddie at the mike. Happily I was at the match, but watching it back later it was apparent just how much barracking Cometti does, though he went very quiet when Embley was pile-driving his knees into Stratton’s chest.


What we'll never understand: Why Hawthorn was playing a 'home' game at Etihad. Must have been to keep the MCG clear for that blockbuster between Melbourne and St.Kilda?


Elsewhere: It’s hard to fathom North – after Swallow was suspended they carped and moaned about the bump being dead, and then this week Harvey is complaining to umpires about being pinched by Ryan Crowley. Pinched! What sort of brute is that Crowley! Compare this to Marc Murphy from last week. I haven’t heard a single word of complaint from Marc Murphy over his broken jaw (okay, so that might be because he can’t talk), but Harvey is carrying on like...well, Mick Malthouse.

The Darkness

The 2012 season was marked by untimely deaths in and around football: Jim Stynes and John McCarthy, but the most gruesome and widely reported was that of Jill Meagher who went missing in Grand Final week, with her body being found on Grand Final eve.

This week Adrian Bayley was sentenced to a minimum 35 years jail for her rape and murder, a crime the judge, Justice George Nettle, called “among the worst kinds conceivable”.

Let us hope that this too is an instance of us overcoming the darkness and emerging into the sort of light where this type of incident no longer occurs.