Paterson’s Stadium, Sunday 16 August 2014
How the west was lost
As
the saying goes: no Spangher, no Hawthorn. When the announcement came through
that Matt Spangher was a late withdrawal for this vital game against Fremantle,
most Hawthorn fans feared the worst. For reasons that barely need explaining,
we never lose when Jesus plays, so his absence left us not only with a
spiritual deficit, but perhaps more crucially, lacking a big body down back.
The corresponding absence of Roughead’s big body up forward left us not only a
little more brittle but quite a bit shorter, which against a team boasting the
275-300 cm frame of Aaron Sandilands, could make all the difference.
Family
commitments and general tiredness (it’s been a long season) meant that it was
quarter time before I pushed through the big timber doors of The Linc in
Essendon to take in the game. As I found a stool right in front of the big
screen I saw that we’d had 11 scoring shots to 3 and but for inaccuracy (4.7 to
3.0) we’d have been killing them.
So
I watched with some disquiet when the second quarter commenced and Fremantle
added two more goals before we’d even mustered two more possessions. Even more
disquieting was the presence in the bar of several Dockers fans - why were
there so many Freo fans in Essendon late on a Sunday afternoon? They even
outnumbered Hawks fans, although given there’d been little for us to cheer, the
Hawks fans might simply have been keeping to themselves. Broadcaster Foxtel
posted a lopsided statistic count after five or so minutes to illustrate by
just how the Hawks were getting slaughtered in the second quarter.
A
nice goal in traffic to Liam Shiels got us back in the game, and a trinity of
Poo goals kept us going goal for goal with Freo for the majority of the
quarter. His third for the quarter came after Luke Breust took clean possession
50 metres or so from goal and bounced his way goalwards, until the ball took a
mis-bounce just as he approached the goal square and skewed dramatically off to
the right. Fortunately he was good enough to retrieve it and handball to the Poo
alone in the goal square.
The
objective viewer would have found a lot to like in the second quarter. After
Freo’s early dominance it became a more even contest with both sides trading
goals. It was exactly the sort of quarter most fans lamented hadn’t eventuated
in last season’s Grand Final. In the end Freo kicked 7.3 to Hawthorn 6.2 in a
fast-paced, highly skilled exhibition. Generally I would like our chances in a
shoot-out, but without Rough and Cyril in the forward line, the idea seemed
less attractive. Particularly in Perth and especially with Freo playing such
sparkling footy. If Nat Fyfe’s ill-discipline cost the Dockers in the first
quarter - at least according to reports I read subsequently - he more than made
up for it after that, playing explosive football that we couldn’t counter.
Despite
this we were still in front at half-time, although the signs certainly looked
ominous. Mitchell and Burgoyne were getting caught with the ball, even Brad
Hill was getting caught with the ball, and we looked to be playing with all the
purpose, direction and decisiveness of the ALP formulating a policy.
The
third quarter was a disaster, it took Hawthorn 13 minutes to get the ball
inside 50, by which time we were well-behind and the home crowd were carrying
on as if the mining boom was still in full swing. Freo were kicking goals from
everywhere. And when we did manage to score with Puopolo threading through a
nice goal, the goal umpire awarded a behind instead of a goal. All replays
showed a very clear goal - it didn’t hit the post, it couldn’t possibly have
been touched, it was knee height so there was no dispute about it going over
the post - it was simply what’s called a ‘howler’ or a home-town decision if
you’re at Subiaco.
The
previous night there’d been great debate over a similar Rory Sloane kick for
Adelaide which was awarded a goal and subsequently reviewed and given as a
behind. Here was a chance then to review the score and get it right, which for
some reason they declined to do. The Poo was only marginally more incredulous
than me as I stormed off to get in another pot. This outrage aside, five
goals to one for the term told the story of the quarter and set up an unpromising
denouement.
But
it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. During the half-time break I began
reading an article on The Guardian website about Martin Amis’ forthcoming novel
– a comic novel set in Auschwitz. Happily it was quite a long article, so it
kept me going through most of the third quarter as well. Every time I looked up
David Mundy, Stephen Hill, Nat Fyfe or Chris Maine were streaming forward with
the ball, so I was able to turn my attention back to my phone and continue with
the article. Hence I missed a good
deal of the third quarter pain, but I could tell what was transpiring by the
applause and shouts of the Freo fans.
As
the final quarter began our chances looked as slim as those of Martin Amis pulling
off a literary triumph with such an unlikely premise. However, like Amis, if
anyone were going to retrieve glory from such an unpromising position, it would
be the Hawks.
As
it turned out, we sunk further behind as the final quarter got underway, to the
point where it threatened to get ugly. In the end Hawthorn limited the damage
to just 19 points at the end, but even so, this represented a 32 point
turnaround from quarter time, which is probably indicative of the way the two
teams played.
To
be honest, I hadn’t seen Freo play this well all season: they ran hard, tackled
ferociously and attacked with pace and speed. Hawthorn simply couldn’t keep up.
I can’t help thinking, however, that we were a little bit unlucky. Last week
against Geelong Fremantle had 24 scoring shots and kicked 11.13, with both
Pavlich and Mundy kicking behinds when a goal would have given Freo victory.
This week they had 25 scoring shots - just one more - and kicked 17.8 - with
Pavlich kicking 5. Take out the home crowd, Freo’s unaccustomed accuracy,
reverse the decision on Poo’s non-goal, and add in Rough, Rioli and Spangher, and
perhaps we’d have gotten the result the match deserved - a Hawthorn victory.
Final
scores: Fremantle 17 8 110 d Hawthorn 13 13 91
Attendance:
38,506
Ladder
position: 3rd
What
we already knew: Hawthorn may or may not win the premiership this
season, but whatever happens, there should be a bronze statue of Jordan Lewis
erected somewhere along Glenferrie Road to signify his contribution to the
campaign. Not only is he the only player not to take an extended injury
sabbatical this season, but he has quite simply been our best player, or close
to our best player almost every week. I didn’t think I’d ever see him play a
better game than the 2011 Preliminary Final, but he’s played at that level all
season. There is no surer bet in football this season than Lewis winning the
Peter Crimmins Medal as Hawthorn’s best and fairest, except perhaps that he
won’t win the Brownlow. Despite the fact that he’s been outstanding in our many
wins, good, tough players with expanding bald patches don’t generally figure
prominently in the votes - Mark Ricciuto excepting. He either needs hair
extensions or to shave his pate entirely if he wants the umpires to notice him.
Having said that, it’s quite possible he’s not eligible - I can’t recall
him being suspended during the year, but it would be remiss of both him and the
umpires if he hasn’t been.
When
devising the fixture, you can’t help but think the AFL were trying to test
Hawthorn’s resolve. We played Freo in Perth on a Sunday, and follow up against
Geelong the following Saturday - our 6 day break versus Geelong’s 8 day break,
plus we’re also coming off a trip to Perth. All on the eve of the finals.
Really, this will be the greatest premiership of all time if we can pull it
off.
What
we learned: There is simply no point having a goal review system
if it doesn’t correct obvious mistakes. I’ve been a goal umpire at junior
football matches and it’s not as easy as you think; the flight of the ball can be
hard to pick up, there’s bodies in your line of vision, players claiming they
touched the ball and supporters shouting things in your ear. Having said that,
it’s still pretty easy. All you have to do is work out if the ball travels
unimpeded through two upright posts. As far as the practical application
of the laws of physics goes, it’s not the most demanding.
What we’re left wondering:
Nat Fyfe has been suspended for two weeks for striking Jordan Lewis. This comes
amid the push to have the rules for the Brownlow Medal changed so that Fyfe
would be eligible despite his suspension earlier in the season. Last week this
campaign was gathering momentum because it was becoming unthinkable that
someone as nice as Nat Fyffe with such a fluffy Brownlow bouffant might miss
out on the medal because of a technicality – like concussing someone. The argument being mounted was that the
head clash for which he was suspended early in the seaon was accidental. Now
that he has been found guilty of intentionally striking Lewis in the same
seaon, is it time we reassessed the accepted view of Fyfe as a nice, polite
good guy, and thought of him instead in the same mould as Dermott Brereton or
David Rhys-Jones?
When
Hawthorn loses I tend to pay less attention to the media chatter about the
week’s matches. So I must have missed Morth Melbourne coach Brad Scott expressing
his outrage over the latest choking incident in football. When Brian Lake was
reported for misconduct for choking North’s Drew Petrie, Scott didn’t hesitate to
wade into the debate and condemn Lake before the case had got to the tribunal.
Scott, along with others from North Melbourne, expressed utter moral
indignation that such an event would take place. So this week when North dynamo
and favourite son Brent Harvey was caught doing exactly the same thing, I can
only assume that Brad Scott was once again conspicuous in his condemnation and
pre-judgement.
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