Round 7 – Hawthorn v St.Kilda
MCG, Saturday 3 May 2014
The Biggest Loser
Despite belting the Saints by a massive 145 points on Saturday, it is arguable that Hawthorn was the biggest loser, with Sam Mitchell and Brian Lake both sustaining injuries that will see them sidelined for prolonged stretches. Mitchell’s injury in particular is a serious blow, perhaps catastrophic.
The Mitchell Effect
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| At least it is brown and gold |
Sam Mitchell’s injury is the same - a seemingly minor inconvenience in a contest causing a major tear in his hamstring that will see him miss eight crucial matches during the season, potentially hindering his conditioning and effectiveness when he returns, thus affecting our midfield clearances and onfield strength, with the upshot that it could disrupt, even derail our premiership campaign catastrophically, which may plunge Hawks fans into some sort of existential crisis that could see them questioning the point of going on, which might draw them into a downward spiral of depression that could lead to widespread social problems including domestic disharmony, loss of faith, drug dependency, psychotic episodes, or even a mass suicide pact. Not that I want to be alarmist. Perhaps we should rename it the Mitchell Effect for Sam Mitchell, though much shorter, leaves a bigger gap in our team than Buddy.
The Comeback Kid
Of course as one man goes down, another comes back in…and the man in question had been out of the game for some time, but slotted straight back in looking fitter and stronger than ever. And he hadn’t lost his touch, nailing three or four by half-time. It was like he’d never been away. Of course I’m referring to my friend Jason who has been living in London. This was the first live Hawks game he’d been to in three years and there he was in the Bullring bar in the Member’s sinking schooners of Matilda Bay’s finest as effortlessly as Hawthorn’s forwards were slotting goals.
For the remainder of his visit we’re playing a match in Sydney followed by a bye, so this was his only chance to see the browns and gold in action. And we virtually kicked a season’s worth of goals, it was just that he saw it all on a monitor in the bar while we sat upstairs applauding goals.
Of course Ryan Schoenmakers was also playing his first game back for 12 months after a knee reconstruction. Unlike Jase, he was sinking goals and not only did he look fitter and stronger, but a tad poncier with one of those stupid looking blonde buns.
Those watching Channel 7’s broadcast of the match at home, or indeed in the bar, would have known him as the Comeback Kid, as Hamish McLachlan and Basil Zempalis insisted on calling him. Meanwhile Jordan Lewis, playing his 200th game was referred to as the Milestone Man. I was waiting for them to refer to Billy Hartung playing his first game as the Debutant Dude, or Ben McEvoy and Shane Savage who had swapped clubs over the break as the Changeling Chaps.
Schoenmakers received a welcoming cheer when he got his first touch, and after Rioli ‘put one on top of his head’, as they say, the Cobbler duly converted and the first of several group hugs ensued. This routine was repeated when Hartung kicked one in the third quarter and Lewis slotted one in the final quarter.
Turncoats and raincoats
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| left to right: Rachel, Chan-Tha, moi & Oscar wearing the heritage jumper |
By the time Chan-Tha arrived with Alex, Jason and Rachel, the rain had begun and we’d moved undercover.
The result of the match was more or less clear half way through the first quarter when Hawthorn had almost effortlessly kicked five goals while St Kilda had barely crossed the centre.
Interestingly, the day after Dale Thomas, playing for Carlton against his former team Collingwood, had been booed and jeered relentlessly by Magpies fans, St Kilda fans were far gentler with former Saint Ben McEvoy playing his first game against them. I didn’t hear a single heckle, just an exasperated moan of quiet despair late in the third quarter from a Saints fan sitting behind me as McEvoy took his umpteenth uncontested mark. Most likely they didn’t blame him for coming to Hawthorn, and there were probably a few fans who wished they’d done the same.
It also has to be said that Hawthorn fans did not boo Shane Savage, although this may simply have been because he wasn’t getting any possessions.
St Kilda was barely competitive in the first quarter and simply non-combative in the second, unless you’re talking about head high tackles. They dished out two early, in front of our goals, one to Jarryd Roughead and one to the Poo which was so crude he didn’t even have to accentuate it with his usual theatrical flourish.
The rain grew heavier and the conditions worsened in the second quarter which made scoring difficult, or at least less easy for Hawthorn and downright impossible in St Kilda’s case. Hawthorn added a few more for the half, but St Kilda didn’t score a single behind for the quarter, and didn’t even get it inside their own 50 metre arc until the time-on period.
By half time the margin was 58 points and it looked like only rain or Hawthorn’s disinterest would prevent the margin from doubling.
Hawthorn Porn
Tempting as it was to stay in the Bullring bar, where it was surprisingly easy to get served, most of us headed back to the seats to take in the third quarter and I’m glad we did, for the Hawks romped. It was like Hawthorn porn.
The first goal of the quarter went to Jack Billings of the Saints, who took a free kick deep in the Member’s pocket from where he slotted a very nice goal. He also took a strong contested mark and tackled well during the match. In a search for positives, that might otherwise yield as little as the United Nations search for WMDs in Iraq, St Kilda can at least look to young Billings.
From there though, it rained Hawthorn goals, a deluge in fact – 10 for the quarter to none. Brian Lake joined Mitchell in Casualty but despite being two men down, the Hawks just clicked into gear and went for it. Much has been made of our spread of goal kickers this year, and this quarter served to highlight it, with eight separate players bagging a goal with Roughead and Cyril getting two each. Cyril’s were both from the ‘delicious’ playbook and generated the biggest roar, while the next biggest roar came when debutant Billy Hartung snagged one.
Hartung looks like he’ll be a good player, although it might be difficult to judge him against this opposition. He’d have faced tougher teams playing for Box Hill in the VFL.
In fairness St Kilda also had an even spread of goal kickers; it’s just that there were only four of them.
When Burgoyne, Breust and Gunston each added a goal in the first three minutes of the final quarter, the lead was out to 131 points and at this rate the final margin looked like it might get beyond 200. But then the rain started again, so we stayed put in the Bullring, where we took in the few remaining highlights, most notable among them being a goal to Jordan Lewis.
The final margin of 145 points was a fair indicator of the difference between the two teams. I’ve rarely seen a starker mismatch. What most amazed me was St Kilda’s unwillingness to change the game. Hawthorn was executing a fairly predictable pattern every time they gained possession backward of the centre or the wing; that was to bring it around the backline in an arc with a series of passes to players who were always free. Then they’d take it up the opposite wing until a clear target was freed up.
If I could spot the pattern, surely the St Kilda coach could, or some of their experienced players, and work so that they blocked it off. But they never did and the margin simply continued to grow, nearly trebling in the second half. The following day my youngest son’s under 12 soccer team was 0-6 down at half time, which in soccer terms is about the equivalent of 58 points, but these U12 boys with no subs kept fighting and actually won the second half 2-1. Sure they lost the game 2-7, but they showed more spirit and fight than
St Kilda.
Final scores: Hawthorn 27. 13. 175. d St Kilda 4. 6. 30.
Ladder position: 1st
Attendance: 32,924
What we learned: We all know Hawthorn coach Alastair Clarkson's routine at the end of the match when the Hawks win; he takes one of the little footballs, jogs to the fence and points to a fan to single them out and signs the ball for them. It is of course invariably a young fan so you can imagine my blushes when he seemingly pointed at me and motioned for me to join him at the fence. In my heart of course I knew he was signalling the young girl just to my right, so I graciously let her through.
What we learned however is what he writes on the ball. We’ve all seen that Clarko takes a bit of time over this procedure, so I always assumed he scrawled a personal message, perhaps a dedication, an inspirational motto or even a line of poetry, but no, he writes the score. Look, Chan-Tha got a photo. 175 to 30 - I suppose you can't get more poetic than that. We also found out the girl is in the same class as Clarko’s daughter at school. So even in this it comes down to who you know…
What we already knew: Clarko takes it seriously. As Jack Steven kicked St Kilda's fourth goal for the game, deep into the final quarter, a shot of Clarko in the box with his head in his hands in seeming anguish, despite the Hawks holding a lead of 139 points, drew an audible laugh from around the ground.
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