Round 15 - Hawthorn v Gold Coast Suns

Aurora Stadium, Saturday 28 June 2014

Out on the wiley, windy moors

Kate Bush on the lead at Aurora

It’s quite plausible, given the bleak conditions in Launceston on the weekend, that the good people of that town knelt in prayer or pranced about in pagan entreaty to the gods to summon the sun. And it worked to the degree that even if the fiery orb in the sky remained concealed, at least its Gold Coast namesakes turned up.

Actually ‘bleak’ doesn’t begin to describe the grim and drab conditions that prevailed. I was watching on TV from chilly Melbourne, but even so, the charcoal skies, film of rain and a dispersed crowd of people hunched inward under their ponchos painted an instant picture of desolate gloom that made Melbourne’s 12 degrees Celsius seem positively balmy.  

If a player kicks high toward the goals to the left of screen at Aurora, you catch a glimpse of the hills surrounding Launceston. As Jarryd Roughead kicked our first for the afternoon, and the camera followed the ball in flight, it looked like Bronte country out there. You half expected to see Heathcliff trying to touch it on the line.

Luckily for the Suns they were wearing their high-vis orange and yellow outfit, so they could at least be seen. Even with the gold stripes, however, the Hawks blended into the gloaming. 

The conditions were tough for ball handling, and there was a prolonged period in the first quarter when players from both sides could do no more than push it along the ground. For more than two minutes not one player was able to handle the ball cleanly in a way that might count as a possession. Thankfully it eventually spilled out to Gary Ablett who was actually able to pick it up and kick it.

Every cloud has a brown and gold lining

Hawthorn dominated play in the first quarter, but inaccuracy meant that they only scored 1.5, whereas the Suns occasional forays forward had netted them 3.0. Happily Luke Breust kicked one at the end of the quarter to get us back within a point at the break.

The second quarter continued along in more or less the same pattern. Breust slid one through and Burgoyne goaled, but when Dixon kicked the Suns’ fifth straight goal, the scores were level on 30 (4.6 to 5.0). Even though the Hawks had most of the play, it was just beginning to look like this could become a close match. The scores were still level with 5 minutes left in the half when Hale got a handball out of the pack to Lewis who snuck one through. By the time the siren rang a few minutes later, Hodge had added another, Smith two more and Rioli kicked one off the ground, and the Hawks suddenly had a lead of 30 points.

The clouds still loomed thickly overhead, but at least we could see their brown and gold lining.

The third quarter began with Ceglar getting the tap out and by the time the Hawks worked the ball around the wing and the flank, Ceglar had run directly forward and was in the goal square in time to collect a handball from Burgoyne and kick it through. 

Hodge, Roughead and Birchall added further goals, making it nine unanswered goals for the Hawks, and the lead continued to mount, growing to 56 points. In a beautiful passage of play late in the third quarter, Hawthorn maintained possession on the wing with a succession of handballs in a keepings-off play, until eventually Burgoyne set Breust free and he ran in to kick his third for the match.  

The commentary team of Hamish McLachlan, Basil Zempalis and Scott Welsh prattled on good naturedly about Ablett’s ever growing possession count, toting up numbers like actuaries. At a certain point, however, regardless of how good a player he undoubtedly is (and I’m among those who think he rivals Leigh Matthews as the best ever), you have to wonder how much it really matters if his team is still 10 goals behind.  Then you have to consider how far behind they might be without him.

Are you ready to be heartbroken?

I’d seen Lloyd Cole play a show in Thornbury the previous night. Like Hawthorn, Lloyd’s heyday was in the 80s and although he played songs from his entire career, the songs the audience were most familiar with were those from that period and in particular, his debut album, Rattlesnakes. I sang along under my breath as he performed, little realising how prescient one of those songs would prove to be.

When the final quarter got underway Birchall kicked an early goal and Hodge another. I was snug in the warmth in Melbourne, the Hawks were cruising; it was all going so nicely…what could possibly go wrong? But of course in season 2014 the answer to that question has no shortage of possible outcomes. Once your coach has come down with a rare nerve disorder with a French name, anything is possible. For this week’s disaster, however, the footy gods, those capricious deities, reverted to one of their default punishments.

As I watched on contentedly, slippers on feet and beer in hand, Cyril chased a loose ball and slid to the ground as he pushed it forward, but the camera, like the commentators, followed the ball so we missed the main talking point to come out of the game – Cyril had injured his hamstring again. My thoughts turned to the previous evening when I’d been cheerily singing along with Lloyd the closing track from Rattlesnakes, “Are You ready to Be Heartbroken?”

What was curious is that the commentary team hadn’t picked up on Rioli's injury. They continued calling the action – such as it was – and didn’t mention Rioli for a good few minutes, until the screen showed vision of Cyril on the bench with a blanket over his lap eating lollies with ruck coach Damien Monkhurst. This seemed to surprise them and they conjectured if something had gone wrong, ultimately deciding that it was unlikely. A replay of the incident showed Cyril lying flat on his stomach after the ball had left the area, and presumably he’d been helped off the ground right in front of them and their boundary rider. Cyril being helped off by trainers and favouring one leg might have given them a clue as to what might have happened. How is it that they’d missed calling the one part of the match that actually mattered? Were they even at the ground? Perhaps they were calling the match from some warmer sanctuary, perhaps that Arcadia of the footy gods, the mythical Footy Central, or Basil’s man cave, with its masses of banked screens?

Meanwhile in an unhappy portent of what they might like without Rioli, the Hawks stopped and the Suns added the final four goals of the game to close the gap from 70 plus points to a mere 53 points. It still kept the Suns well and truly in the shade, but didn’t bode particularly well for the Hawks either.

Final scores: Hawthorn 17 14 116 d old Coast Suns 10 3 63

Attendance: 13,178

Ladder position: 1st

What we learned: After Port Adelaide lost to Adelaide, the Hawks found themselves on top of the ladder. Before we get too excited tough, we should remember that after North next week, we have to play Adelaide away in two weeks.

We also learned that senior coach Alastair Clarkson is likely to be back for the next match.  Great news. Not that we don’t love Bolts, we do, that’s why we’re glad Clarko’s back. Bolts is way too chirpy to be a full-time AFL coach. Open, honest, positive, veritably happy – a man with these qualities has no place coaching an AFL side. Five wins from five matches at the helm is an impressive record, but for his own sake he should quit now.  He just need look at the whingeing Scott twins or malcontent Malthouse to know what his future might be like if he continues down this murky road.

Contemplating the return of Clarko, Hamish McLachlan said that Hawthorn have been playing so well, even Clarko might have to return via Box Hill.

What we already knew: that Sunday night football was misguided.  Only 40,000 people turned up to watch Collingwood and Carlton the night following the Hawks v Suns clash; the lowest crowd to attend a match between these teams since Federation, or thereabouts. This timeslot can only have been chosen by people who a) get in for free, b) have access to a private (warm) box with dinner provided, c) don’t have children to consider, d) have Mondays off and e) don’t like Modern Family.

What we’re wondering: My knowledge of medical science is somewhat patchy, but in light of Cyril’s recurring hamstring injuries – and when we say recurring we mean constant – is it possible for him to have a hamstring transplant surgery in the same way that you can have a heart or kidney transplant? That is, take the healthy hamstring from someone and swap it with Cyril’s? Ideally a dead person, but if that’s not possible I’d be willing to sacrifice mine. I ‘d happily walk with a limp for the rest of my life if it meant that Cyril could play unhindered. It would be for the greater good of Hawthorn. After all, Cyril has more use for a healthy hamstring than me.

Okay, I realise I'm running a week behind, but I'll catch up this week, not that anyone will be in a hurry to read about the North game.