The Ultimate Flappy Birds - Hawthorn 2013 - 2014

Flappy Birds 

Flappy bird with cup

Twenty3 is back!  It is with a certain joi de vivre that we return for season 2014 with the Hawks as reigning premiers – a title we get to drop into conversations with gratuitous regularity all season.

We also return as a version of last season’s Twenty3 blog entries are buffed, refurbished and collected in a volume called ‘High on Hawthorn: the road to the 2013 premiership’ to be published next week by Nero. You’ll find it in bookstores with a distinctive brown and gold striped cover. It’s also available on e-book and is currently ranked 207,371 in the Kindle store.

So while Hawthorn is going for back-to-back in 2014, Twenty3 is also going for the sequel. It’s a common complaint that movie sequels are never as good as the original, but if the Hawks get up again in 2014, the sequel will, by definition, be every bit as good as the original. And with books, some sequels even improve on the original – Harry Potter for instance. Young Harry is a good case in point actually because as you’ll have noticed, he wears a brown and gold Hawthorn scarf. And if he’s any sort of omen, remember there are seven books in the series – that’s a septet of flags!

Okay, so we might be getting ahead of ourselves, but summer did bring with it a few key omens that indicate the Hawks remain in the ascendant. In the USA, the Hawks also reign with the Chicago Blackhawks winning the 2013 Stanley Cup in the National Ice Hockey League and the Seattle Seahawks – we’ll just call them both the Hawks – defeating the Denver Broncos in New Jersey to win Superbowl XLVIII. Even the half-time margin of 22 points was eerily similar to Hawthorn’s half-time lead in the Grand Final against Fremantle which was, of course 23 points. As in the AFL Grand Final, the Superbowl was effectively over by that stage, a point highlighted by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers when they played ‘Give it Away’ during the half-time show, presumably a pointed comment to the Broncos.

Also over summer a game for smart phones and tablets called ‘Flappy Bird’ took the world by storm. In fact it became so successful and addictive that its developer, Dong Nguyen took it off line so he could regain his peace.  The game requires the player to tap the screen of their phone to keep a hawk-like bird aloft and to steer it between the gaps of a series of unevenly spaced perpendicular pipes – that look not unlike goal posts in fact. You score one point for each gap you get through and if the bird so much as brushes a pipe, it crashes to the ground. It is a simple enough concept, but devilishly difficult to play. Comparing top scores became a matter of pride among players, with anyone reporting a score above 50 being thought of as highly suspect. My own top score, spookily enough, is 11 – the exact number of premierships Hawthorn has won.

While Flappy Bird’s ascendancy mirrors Hawthorn’s, hopefully the Hawks will not become victims of their own success in the same way as Flappy Bird, something we experienced in 2009.

The Hangover

One of the most successful movies of 2009 was called The Hangover starring Zack Galifianakis, Bradley Cooper and Justin Bartha. The film revolves around four men who travel to Las Vegas on a bachelor party weekend. The men check in to a suite in Caesars Palace. The next morning three of them awaken to discover that the suite is a complete ruin, one of them is missing a tooth, there is a baby and a chicken in the suite, and a tiger in the bathroom. Also the groom is missing. The three men spend the movie trying to piece together what happened the previous night while looking for the groom.

2009: Lest We Forget

Coincidentally, 2009 was the year of another famous hangover – Hawthorn’s premiership hangover. After winning the premiership in 2008 the Hawks stumbled through 2009 like men who had just emerged from a night of Dionysian carousing in Vegas, which in some cases, perhaps they had. It was the premiership hangover to end all hangovers as we missed the finals completely. For many fans it contained all the facets of an actual hangover; an intolerance of bright lights, a thumping headache, an inability to recall key events and a vague sense that something horrific had happened. And just as in the movie where Tracy Garner, Stu Price and Phil Wenneck spend the movie trying to find the missing groom and struggling to recall what occurred the previous evening, the Hawks spent much of 2009 trying to find their lost form and struggling to recall Clarko’s game plan.

The premiership hangover was so bad it lasted until Round 8 of 2010. Much has therefore been made over summer of Clarko needing to keep innovating so that we don’t suffer the same sort of hangover as we did in 2009. But as I said back in 09, to have a premiership hangover, you first have to win the premiership. Wouldn’t St Kilda or The Bulldogs love the chance to suffer a premiership hangover? So if we have to bury ourselves in the pillow, reach for the Panadol and keep the blinds shut, then I can cope.

Besides, after the anxiety of 2012/13 when we finished on top and suffered under the weight of expectation that goes along with that, it might be nice and relaxing to chill through the 2014 season without any real expectancy.

I say that now of course, but once the season is underway I’ll feel the same sense of angst and anticipation as always; I’ll feel the same anxiety whenever we’re less than six goals in front, and be as raucous in my cheering whenever Sammy and Cyril get hold of the ball or Rough and Gunston pull in a mark.

The Hangover has grown into a franchise with two sequels. We don’t want a sequel of the 2009 premiership hangover, but from the moment the ball is bounced in Round one at Aurora, we’ll be looking for the best sort of sequel – back-to-back flags. Go Hawks!

Big Ben chimes in – Ben McEvoy joins Hawthorn

Hawthorn’s main recruiting coup during the trade period was signing Ben McEvoy from St Kilda to replace retiring premiership ruckman, Max Bailey.

I don’t know much about Big Ben and my enquiries to Saints fans didn’t enlighten me much either; with  some saying he’s a fine player who will be good for the Hawks, and others saying he’s an okay mark around the ground but not much good in the ruck. This is a shame because he’s just been recruited as our no. 1 ruckman.

Of course when taking such advice from Saints fans you have to remind yourself that ‘good’ is a relative term and never more so than from supporters of a team that has won only one premiership. It is just possible that Big Ben will join the pantheon of Hawthorn recruits who fit the ‘inspired decision’ tag, such as Stuart Dew, Shaun Burgoyne, Josh Gibson and Brian Lake.  Or the pantheon of ordinary St Kilda players who transformed themselves (or became transformed?) into champions the minute they slipped the brown and gold verticals over their heads, such as Russell Greene, Brent Guerra, Stuart Trott, Spider Everitt, Joel Smith, even Allan Jeans.

Also, does it really matter if he knows what to do in the ruck? It’s never bothered Hawthorn overly much in the past. After all, we won a premiership with Bernie Jones in the ruck, so having a great ruckman is clearly not an imperative. Besides, with Sammy, Cyril, the Poo, Jordan Lewis and Brad Hill scuttling about under his feet, it doesn’t really matter if Big Ben wins the tap out – as long as he competes, the ball will come to ground no matter who wins the tap, where our fellas will snaffle it up and scoot off with it.

And should Clarko decide that winning the ruck duel occasionally is a tactic worth pursuing; well, we have The Monkey, Damien Monkhurst, on hand as ruck coach. On game day the former Collingwood great can usually be found sitting on the Hawthorn bench looking svelte and relaxed in a brown team track-suit, vigorously chewing gum, one hand hidden in a pocket and the other perennially holding a phone to his ear. Who he is communing with and just why it extends throughout the entire match remains a mystery. If he’s talking to the coaching panel in the box, why doesn’t he just sit up there with them? It’s not like he moves around the boundary, or even stands up. Or is it just that there isn’t enough room in the box for his somewhat imposing figure?

Savage cuts – Shane Savage and Xavier Ellis leave Hawthorn

Just as with any new boyfriend or girlfriend, we’ll take pleasure in Big Ben’s presence; admire his ability, his blond curls and his raunchy ruck moves. But of course to get him to the club we had to dump our previous partner, and Shane Savage was the player who we felt we’d outgrown, the player who stormed out of the restaurant when we broke the bad news. I’ll miss Savage – he’s a good player, quick and he usually manages a goal or two. Admittedly his kicks were always stratospherically high, so there was no chance of him delivering a lace out pass on the chest, but he always contributed to the team. He was very unlucky not to be selected in the 2013 Grand Final side.  As it turned out Simpkin was a good selection who played well when he came on, but Savage must have been next in line, and there’s no reason to suspect he wouldn’t have done equally well.

Xavier Ellis also left the Hawks, going to West Coast. Ellis has been desperately unlucky with injury over the past few years and these have hampered his career. As a player he’s always reminded me a bit of Nick Dal Santo (who also changed clubs this season); he’s a classy left-footer who gets hold of the ball and delivers it with polish. The only difference is he’s probably a bit better endowed, or even if he’s not, at least we haven’t all seen the pictures. Ellis remains one of the best exponents of the sub-10 metre pass, but he’ll always be loved at Hawthorn for his standout game in the 2008 Grand Final.

Ellis joins former Hawk assistant coach Adam Simpson, who has replaced John Worsfold at the helm of West Coast. We’ll miss both of them.

It will be a bit like running into an old girlfriend when we see Savage in his Saints outfit and Ellis running around with the Eagles in 2014 – at first in the instant before we recognise them, we’ll see something that attracts us, something to admire. Then we’ll realise who it is and understand the attraction, perhaps remember the good times; Ellis’ precision passing in 08, Savage slotting the sealer against Collingwood in 2012. I hope they both do well with their new clubs, though obviously there are limits to that. After all, we never want our old partner to outshine our new one.

Unapologetic – clubbing with Rhianna and Campbell Brown

Check out my "Hawks Premiers 2013 tatt!"

Summer in Australia is associated with beaches, bronze bodies, batting collapses and bushfires. And of course footballers caught drinking and brawling in popular tourist destinations, posting nude photos and working on the edges of consensual sex.

Campbell Brown, champion half-back and member of Hawthorn’s 2008 premiership team, has always been a footballer’s footballer – a man with old-fashioned beliefs on how to play the game. He attacks the ball and his opponents with equal ferocity. He believes that what happens on the field stays on the field, a creed that obviously extends to the footy trip.

But after last season, the thing he left on the footy trip with the Gold Coast Suns was his career after he broke the jaw of teammate Steven May.

According to stories at the time, a contingent of Suns players plus Hawk star Josh Gibson had been asked to leave Bootsy Bellows nightclub in West Hollywood because Rhianna and her entourage were due to arrive. May, it transpired, tried to force his way back into the club to get Rhianna’s autograph – well fair enough, he’s only human, whereupon Josh Gibson tried to stop him. When May abused Gibson, Campbell Brown allegedly stepped in and threw two punches. Whatever the truth of this tale, the result is that Brown broke May’s jaw and was subsequently sacked by the Suns.

Of course no one condones violence, but the furore over May’s broken jaw and Brown’s sacking seem to have obscured the real scandal here. After all, Campbell Brown was sticking up for Gibson. But also, why was Peter Crimmins medallist and premiership hero Josh Gibson asked to leave a nightclub just because of Rhianna?

If anything Ri Ri should have insisted on Gibson staying so she could meet him. He is, after all, the real star. And not that I want to get too far ahead of myself, but the pair would make a great power couple – the best since Becks and Posh, or even, if the rumours are true, Barack and Beyonce. And just think of the father-son prospects: Gibson’s ball reading ability and judgement combined with Rhianna’s dance moves, well, the little fella would be unstoppable – to say nothing of his good looks, hot bod and marketing potential.

It’s hard to know what Campbell Brown will do now. You suspect that he didn’t have much of a plan for post football. Or if he did, it was probably working in ‘the media’ a sphere where, like Acker before him, his currency is exhausted the minute he’s not actually playing the game.  If nothing else, media organisations will be scared of what he might get up to at the Christmas party once the free bar runs out.

Mandela and Hawthorn  

As the world’s dignitaries flew into Johannesburg to honour the late Nelson Mandela, or ‘Madiba’ as the western media suddenly started referring to him to give the impression they were more intimately acquainted with him than was actually the case, it was pleasing to see that Australia sent ambassadors who carry the requisite dignity and standing that such an occasion demands. I’m not referring to Prime Minister Tony Abbott, Foreign Minister Julie Bishop (even though she is one of Australia’s most convincing Dermie lookalikes), nor Catholic Archbishop George Pell, or even AFL supremo Andrew Demetriou.

Of course it was Hawthorn led by Luke Hodge who took the time to pay tribute to the great Mandela, before getting out the Sherrins for pre-season training exercises and a few clinics with the kids – it’s what Nelson would have wanted.

And really, who better to help a grieving nation find renewed hope than the mighty Hawks?

It’s fair to say that up until the moment of his death, Nelson Mandela was probably the most universally loved and admired person on the planet, with the possible exception of Kylie. So his sad passing leaves a vacancy for the most noble and respected human alive. It’s a vacancy that in other circumstances I might have nominated Buddy to fill, but with his, well, let’s not beat about the bush, treacherous defection to Sydney, he no longer qualifies.

No, this role requires someone of impeccable standing, someone with dignity and humility, someone who has experienced adversity and emerged triumphant, someone who can forgive enemies, in short, a noble and honourable person, and I can only think of one man…Jarryd Roughead! Okay, I’ll also accept Luke Hodge, Cyril Rioli and Sam Mitchell. Just as Mandela was respected by all politicians – left, right, socialist, kooky right, whatever the ALP is – so Rough, Hodge, Cyril and Sammy are respected by all footy fans, no matter what team they support.

Step it up Cyril

On 2 February 2014 Matt Murnane wrote a piece in The Age listing the players from each team that need to ‘step up’, to take the leap from being a ‘good’ player to become a ‘great’ player – the sort of player who can make a real difference to their team’s fortunes. For Hawthorn he nominated, wait for it, Cyril Rioli!

To me that’s a bit like telling Don Bradman that it’s time he turned his ‘starts’ into big scores, or advising Mitch Johnson to ramp up the pace a bit.

Next to Buddy, Cyril is perhaps the most exciting player to emerge at Hawthorn over the past six years. In 2013 we defeated North Melbourne twice narrowly, and on each occasion it was Cyril Rioli’s inspired play that got us over the line.

Stepping up isn’t Cyril’s problem, so much as stepping out, given that it’s his hamstring that defeats him more often than any opponent does. In his article Matt Murnane allowed for Cyril’s injury hampered 2013 as a factor behind his inability to have a greater impact in matches. He cited, however, that Rioli had no 20 plus possession games after he returned from injury in round 15, and only one game in which he kicked more that one goal. This may well be true, but he still makes a difference every time he gets the ball, and a match where Cyril gets 19 possessions and kicks a goal is usually a match we’re going to win. Seriously, if Rioli is our biggest problem then Hawks fans can start planning where they’re going to celebrate the back-to-back flag in 2014 and look forward to our threepeat in 2015.

In my view the player who really needs to step up is Tim O’Brien – the man who has assumed, or rather ascended to the famous number 23.  As a red head, O’Brien is probably accustomed to being singled out for attention, so perhaps he’ll handle wearing the number 23 with calm and poise. Let’s hope so, but let’s hope he also wears it with a touch of flair and zest as well, because he’s now the eponymous face of this blog. So whether it be on the field with bags of goals, or off the field with a posse of babes or a blaze of controversy doesn’t matter, so long as he distinguishes himself quickly and adds to the aura of the number 23 0 or at least justifies the name of this blog.

Brett Lee gets Rough treatment

"Take this Rough!"

While Hawthorn was cruising from victory to victory during 2013, the Australian cricket team was being soundly beaten in the Ashes series in England. Back in Australia, however, Mitchell Johnson worked on his action and his moustache so that come the return series on home soil, Australia was able to reverse the earlier result and win back the Ashes defeating England 5-0.

As satisfying as that was, by far the best cricket story over summer was the news of Jarryd Roughead smashing a six off the bowling of Brett Lee in the Ricky Ponting charity match in Launceston. While this became a talking point, Hawthorn fans weren’t really surprised. After all, Rough is the reigning Coleman medallist and it’s not at all unusual for him to score six-pointers in Launceston.

Australian of the Year

Prime Minister Tony Abbott named Sydney Swans champ Adam Goodes as Australian of the Year for 2014.  This is a tremendous honour and I’m pleased that at last an AFL player has finally been recognised in this way – after all every other sport has at least one Australian of the Year representative, and it seems to come as part of the package when you captain the cricket team.

While it’s undeniable that Adam Goodes is an impressive leader and spokesperson for not only indigenous people, but all Australians, I can’t help but question whether he is the best choice for this honour.  Sure he campaigns tirelessly for the rights of indigenous people, raises his voice against racism, gives his time to a number of charities and advocates for equality in education. But is that really enough to qualify him as Australian of the Year?

Surely foremost among the criteria in the minds of those who elect our Australian of the Year is whether or not the candidate played or plays for Hawthorn? If it’s not bad enough that Sam Mitchell is regularly overlooked in Brownlow voting, or even for King of Moomba (how come Bert Newton gets a second go when Sam has yet to don the ceremonial garb?), it’s defies comprehension that he hasn’t also been Australian of the Year at least once already. Likewise Luke Hodge and Jarryd Roughead, one the reigning premiership captain, the other the reigning Coleman medallist – these are the qualities I consider paramount in selecting the representative of our nation. I can’t help thinking that Australian of the Year honours might come under yet another obscure clause in the Swans’ ever-growing salary cap allowance.

NAB Challenge 1

Hawthorn v Brisbane

Etihad Stadium, Thursday 13 February 2014

Thank God footy’s back! And not just because we love it and want to see our Hawks in action, but anything to get Schapelle Corby off the front page and out of our consciousness. Don’t get me wrong, nine years in an Indonesian gaol is too long for carrying a bit of hooch (well, quite a lot of hooch actually), but even so, parole the poor girl by all means. However, the constant speculation in the weeks leading up to her release and the live crosses and ongoing commentary from reporters who no more understand the Indonesian justice system than they can explain quantum physics has left me feeling like I’ve been serving my own sentence.
Such was the saturation coverage it showed up on NASA satellite photos from space. It was nearly as relentless as the ‘will Buddy go?’ coverage of 2013. But Buddy’s gone and Schapelle’s out, so we can turn our minds to what really matters…Hawthorn.

It’s our first official match for the 2014 season – a NAB Challenge game against Brisbane. The accepted position to adopt for the pre-season matches is that it doesn’t really matter if we win; it’s just a good opportunity to play the kids and to shake off a few cobwebs. Of course the reality is that I do care whether we win. So it was heart warming to see the Hawks put on a show and win by a comfy 131 points. Was it churlish of me to be a tad disappointed that the Hawks took their foot off the pedal in the final quarter and allowed the Lions to rally and kick two goals to triple their score?

I was unable to attend the game, so followed it on the AFL app, and wondered if something was wrong, because every time I refreshed we’d added a goal, sometimes two or three. So swift was the scoring and the app updating that I began to fear the Hawks would exhaust my data usage allowance.

Just think, in our two most recent games, the 2013 Grand Final against Fremantle and this, the opening NAB cup game against Brisbane – the opposition have managed just 1.6 and 1.3 respectively in the first half. That’s an aggregate of just 2.9 over four quarters.

Brisbane may be disheartened at the score their youngsters managed to post against the Hawks, but they should take some solace from the fact that the Dockers – against the same defence managed just 1.6 to half time of the 2013 Grand Final. Not bad for a team who, according to the majority of footy pundits, has a suspect defence. In fact with just one kick in the second quarter, a nine-pointer from outside 50, Matt Suckling equalled Brisbane’s entire first half score of 1.3.9.

It was, after all, Valentine’s Day eve and there was already a lot to love about the Hawks: Jack Gunston’s 5 goals, Matt Suckling’s return and the form of Sam Mitchell, Liam Shiels, Cyril Rioli, Brad Hill and Big Ben McEvoy. Cupid, it seems, plays for Hawthorn.

You just have to hope that sitting back in her Channel 7 sponsored resort, Schapelle took the chance to lift her veil, tune into Fox Footy and relish her newfound freedom, as exemplified by the way Hawthorn played.

Final scores: Hawthorn 1.22.13 154  d Brisbane 3.5. 23

Schapelle, a Queenslander, can't look on as the Hawks demolish Brisbane

NAB Challenge 2

Hawthorn v North Melbourne

Aurora Stadium, Friday 21 February 2014

Last time we played North Melbourne at Aurora, Buddy kicked 13 goals and Hawthorn won by over 100 points. This match would be different for obvious reasons; firstly Buddy’s absence, but also during the two meetings in the home and away rounds of 2013, North held the ascendency for large parts of each match and could have won both if not for Cyril Rioli. So we expected a closer match than our first NAB Cup challenge game against Brisbane the previous week.

However, after Hawthorn kicked the first six goals of the match, it appeared that those expectations were completely misguided. This was reinforced when you noted that Hawthorn’s first quarter goal kickers were Liam Shiels with three and Hale, Simpkin and Langford with one each – not the usual names in Hawthorn’s goalkicking column. It suggested a rout was on the cards.

Again I was following this match via the AFL app from Cabinet where I was having after-work drinks with my friend Chan-Tha and her sister Dara. We were mid-cocktail (or in my case, pot of Boags) when we noted that Tim O’Brien wearing the no.23 added his first goal for the Hawks – here’s cheers! This was followed by Langford kicking a second. And even though North evened it out a bit in the second quarter, it didn’t bode well for them that they were still five goals in arrears at half-time and Gunston and Roughead hadn’t yet registered on the scoreboard.

In fact North’s half time score was just 3.5.23, and Hawthorn didn’t have Lake, Birchall or Stratton in defence. When you add this to Brisbane’s half time score the previous week of 1.3, and Fremantle’s half-time score in the Grand Final of 1.6 – over the three matches, the opposition has kicked just 5.11 to Hawthorn’s 27.16 in the first half of football.

All very positive for the Hawks and as we skipped away in a dominant second half it became clear that the NAB Challenge was proving to be anything but. And with our next warm-up match against Melbourne, there is a danger that we might be peaking too early. Although it’s good to start as we mean to go on.


Final scores: Hawthorn 18.10. 118  d  North Melbourne 7.11. 53


While there might be plenty of on field reasons for Hawks fans to be getting cocky about the 2014 season, there is still some off field issues about which we can feel less proud. A Hawthorn fan was ejected from the ground for allegedly making racist comments to Majack Daw from North Melbourne. The only positive aspect of this was that it was other Hawks fans who pointed him out to police.

Of course it defies logic that football fans continue to make these remarks, especially fans of teams with Indigenous players on their list. Just think of the great African and African-American athletes in the world and imagine how much better AFL could become once a few more African born players follow Majack Daw’s lead.

In the USA former Washington Wizards basketball player and potential Brooklyn Nets recruit, Jason Collins, came out as gay in the NBA off-season. This caused little apparent fuss. The fact that he’s African-American went completely unremarked of course. It makes me wonder that if we’re still struggling with Majack Daw’s skin colour, it’s probably a few years yet before an AFL player comes out as openly gay.

High on Hawthorn - pre-sale discount offer and interview

High on Hawthorn - pre-sale discount offer

High on Hawthorn: the Road to the 2013 Premiership is out soon. In a special pre-sale offer, order your copy now for just $12.99 (rrp $19.99) plus receive a 'High on hawthorn' badge!

Visit http://www.themonthly.com.au/shop/blackinc/high-hawthorn for details.Or click here.

Interview with Tony Wilson

Writer, broadcaster and former Hawk, Tony Wilson talks to Phillip Taylor about High on Hawthorn.
Check it out here.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lA_3KhtoTgg

Competition – Have your photos included in High on Hawthorn:

Competition – Have your photos included in High on Hawthorn

Nero is publishing 'High on Hawthorn: the road to the 2013 premiership' in March 2014.

The book is based on this blog and you could have your photo included in the published edition..

We’re running a competition for Hawks fans to have their photos included in the book.

Do you have photos from 2013 Grand Final parties, the Hawks cheer squad, Hawthorn fans, or your pets dressed up in the glorious brown and gold?

What to do: email your photos to highonhawthorn@blackincbooks.com by Tuesday 31 December 2013.

What do I get?:Glory, obviously, and your photos included in the book! You’ll also receive a free copy of the book when it comes out. Everyone who enters the competition will also be eligible to buy copies of the book at a 50% discount.

Image specifications: Photos of fans, grand final parties, friends and family at football games and pets dressed up in Hawthorn colours from the 2013 season. Please include a brief (25 words or less) description of where the photo was taken and when, and who appears in it (if the subjects wish to be named). Photos need to be supplied in the highest resolution possible, and photographers need to clear permission with subjects before entering the competition.

Competition closes Tuesday 31 December 2013. Only winning photographers will be notified.

Good luck – we look forward to seeing your best shots!

For more info, click here.

Grand Final - Hawthorn v Fremantle

Saturday 28 September 2013, MCG, crowd 100,008. 



Paradise regained - the Hawthorn zeitgeist

Hawthorn…Premiers 2013! 

Nice hat John Snr
photo: abc.net.au

In the first chapter of this epic tale, we looked at Milton’s poem Paradise Lost and saw parallels between the fall of man and the fall of Hawthorn in the 2012 decider. Moving on to the sequel, Paradise Regained, we saw that it could read as an allegory for how the 2013 season would unfold; where what was lost in 2012 is regained in 2013, and that is exactly what has come to pass.

Paradise regained indeed. We are the zeitgeist!



…a fiery Globe
Of Angels on full sail of wing flew nigh
Who on their plumy Vans receiv'd him soft
From his uneasie station, and upbore
As on a floating couch through the blithe Air, [ 585 ]
Then in a flowry valley set him down
On a green bank, and set before him spred
A table of Celestial Food, Divine
Ambrosial, Fruits fetcht from the tree of life
And from the fount of life Ambrosial drink, [ 590 ]
That soon refresh'd him wearied, and repair'd
What hunger, if aught hunger had impair'd
Or thirst, and as he fed, Angelic Quires
Sung Heavenly Anthems of his victory…

Pete, Chan-Tha and the author take in H&C

Okay so it’s a little more baroque than Mark ‘Robbo’ Robinson of the Herald-Sun might put it, but it’s a fairly clear description of Luke Hodge being chaired around the ground on the lap of honour, taken back to the rooms and there refreshed with ambrosial water from the Fount of Life, or the premiership cup as we know it.

The angelic choirs singing ‘heavenly anthems of victory’ is a clear reference to the mighty swarm of Hawk fans belting out the team song at the ground, as well as the players’ rendition in the winners circle in the rooms.

It was a great triumph. A tour de force!

Yes I cried, I fist-pumped and high-fived. I hugged strangers (and may even have inseminated a couple) and sang out loud and out of tune, but what a glorious day…

Let’s go back to the beginning of the week and track the final chapter of Hawthorn’s 11th premiership as it took shape.

Grand final week diary

Sunday 22 September

We know our opponent – it’s Hawthorn v Fremantle. Fremantle played impressively well to defeat Sydney the previous night, exerting intense pressure on the Swans and with a rabid crowd behind them, they’ve got people talking.

So much so that Channel 9’s Sunday Footy Show panel all pick Freo to win the big one. Ryan Crowley is suddenly cast as the potential match winner, Ballantyne as the most dangerous key forward on the day. It’s seemingly been forgotten that the Hawks have won 21 of 24 games so far and achieved key wins – Sydney in Round 7 and Essendon in Round 18 – through intense tackling pressure. Surely reason will prevail by the end of the week.


Monday 23 September – Brownlow night

Another baffling night at the Brownlow when one of Hawthorn’ good and great fail to win the award. It seems the umpires don’t think much of us either. On seven occasions when Hawthorn won the match, a player from the opposition was awarded the 3 votes. Okay, one of them was Gary Ablett, so fair enough, but six others, including Josh Kennedy from the Eagles in Round 13 – seriously?

Talking of Josh Kennedy, the Sydney one this time, it is to be hoped he polls well next year, if only so the camera can regularly pick out his partner, Ana Calle.

Despite winning 19 games, more than any other team, we only came fourth on the vote tally – a full 12 votes behind leader Sydney. I remind myself that the award is voted for by umpires, so I really shouldn’t be surprised.

While I’m disappointed Sammy didn’t win, I never thought he would, and really, had anyone other than Ablett won it, the award would have had to have been abandoned due to a lack of relevance, like the NAB Cup or the Gold Logie.


Tuesday 24 September  – Open Mike

Former Herald-Sun footy journalist and Fox footy host Mike Sheahan posits his belief that win or lose, Alastair Clarkson will leave Hawthorn and coach West Coast next season.  What a bizarre, and it would seem, deliberately spiteful thing to announce in Grand Final week. Even worse, all football journalists pick up the errant ball and run with it.

It’s as ludicrous as the Canberra press gallery trying to bring on a government leadership spill in the lead-up to the election…oh wait, they did. Unlike the Rudd Gillard stand off, however, there seems to be no basis whatsoever for this assertion other than a wilful desire to throw a distraction into Hawthorn’s preparation.

Mike of course is famous for his utterly pointless Top 50 player lists, so were we to draw up such a list for footy journalists, and I adopt the broadest possible definition of the term ‘journalist’ so that we can include Mike, we’d have to position him somewhere below Mark Maclure, though that would still put him above Robbo.

Over on Footy Classified and Talking Footy they’re also going for Freo. I mean you don’t expect any sense from Matthew Lloyd, but even Garry Lyon, who you can usually rely on to back the Hawks, is going for Freo. Ryan Crowley is assuming Ablett-like powers since his last game. This is just weird.



Thursday 25 September – The Footy Show

The Footy Show is as much a part of Grand Final week as an office handball competition, but even less likely to hit the bulls-eye. I turn over to ‘Would I Lie to You’ on the ABC, wondering if perhaps it’s another Mike Sheahan vehicle, but no it’s a BBC panel show. Funnier of course than the Footy Show, with the added advantage of not featuring a player revue; a cringe-worthy, overblown high school karaoke night with a huge wardrobe budget.

The majority of panellists on the Footy Show also go for Freo (Jonathan Brown being an exception) and the purple haze is being talked up. After all, they’ve beaten Geelong and Sydney! (Of course so did Hawthorn).

Ryan Crowley by now is better than Gary Ablett Snr and Jnr combined. I’m beginning to wonder how Freo has lost any matches at all with him in their ranks. I go back and watch the Round 4 clash from Aurora – Crowley barely gets a touch, Ballantyne does nothing special, yet in the Grand Final week commentary they loom larger than Judd and Voss, to say nothing of Hodge, Mitchell, Franklin, Roughead et al, who everyone seems to have forgotten will also be playing.

I think it’s a case of the commentariat simply jumping on board with the last thing they saw, which in this case was Fremantle.

History may not necessarily repeat, but you can sometimes draw comfort from it. I recall in 1983 and 1988 when Essendon and Melbourne respectively won their way through to play Hawthorn in the Grand Final. Neither had been to the Grand Final for many years and both had powered though the finals from the Elimination. By Grand Final week, everyone had forgotten Hawthorn was even in it – let alone that we’d got there first by being consistently better all season. We duly defeated them by 83 and 96 points respectively.


Friday 26 September – The Grand Final parade

Buddy's solo parade

The kids join me at work and we wander up to the top of Spring Street for the parade. The Freo fans have turned the town purple as the week's worn on and are out in force today, droning their monotonous and annoying Freeeoooh…Freeeooh…Freeeooh chant. They seem unusually brash and confident for supporters of a team that’s never made it before, and has only just brushed off its ‘laughing stock’ reputation. Perhaps they’re just excited to be here, and why not. We are. Or they're trying to justify the thousands of dollars they had to spend to get here. After all, it could be a long trip home via Singapore. Hopefully they can pick some duty free bargains to make it worth their while.

Hawks fans, on the other hand, just seem happy to be enjoying some rare Melbourne sunshine.

The Hawks boys look relaxed and ready. Buddy and Gibbo are among the last to chug up the hill – perhaps they stopped off at a couple of Collins Street boutiques on the way to pick up some accessories. They also seem to have acquired some children along the way – acquired or sired, one or the other.

Friday night it’s Grand Final eve drinks with Chan-Tha. We go to Cabinet, an upstairs bar with a laneway entry, hidden enough that the ubiquitous Freo fans won’t find it.


Saturday 28 September – Grand final day dawns

I mean that literally. As an MCC member I had to queue, having missed out on the reserved seat ballot, so I was there well before dawn. I arrived in Yarra Park at around 2.45am, around 12 hours to the bounce, and was one of several hundred shadowy figures lurking between the trees.

Queuing before dawn at the G is one of the curious rites of spring in Melbourne.  There’s a sense of restlessness as people uncork thermoses and whisper in hushed tones, settle under makeshift canopies or doze uneasily on camp chairs while they wait for dawn.  It’s dark so you can’t make out features. Even those whose faces are illuminated by the mini-stage lighting of iPads and Kindles are hidden beneath beanies, scarves and balaclavas.

I was without a chair but lucked-in when the bloke behind me took his car back home and left me his seat for a few hours. Happily there was no rain, but around 4am as the cold kicks in as the earth turns towards dawn.

The MCC offers coffee- it’s instant and the water lukewarm, but the task of getting it is at least a distraction. As the light lifts you can make out the faces of the people you’ve been talking to. I’m reassured that other Hawthorn fans are equally baffled by the surge in support for Fremantle.

By 7am, one hour before the gates open, there’s the bustle of movement as people fold tarps and rugs, dismantle tents and gather cushions and pillows to return them to cars. There’s a sense of an army getting ready for battle, a sense heightened when the makeshift borders are taken down and we begin to shuffle forward, and I hear the cry of “once more over the breach!”

The queue is 15 across and stretches right back to top of the gardens and around the corner. I’m near the front and see Craig Hutchinson taking a photo of the queue he doesn’t have to join. There’s one Fremantle fan in the queue who has been interviewed by at least three different TV stations – he’ll have his own show by the time the match starts.

Finally the gates open at 8am and I secure a fantastic spot in the front row on Level 2 of the MCC Members stand.  I’ll have an unimpeded panoramic view of everything; that’s assuming I can stay awake.

Once you’ve got your seat you can leave, so I meet my brother for our now traditional Grand Final breakfast at Il Solito Posto in a laneway off Collins Street. The owner is pleased to see some brown and gold in the room and our order for beers at 11am is greeted with cheers from the kitchen – the first beers of the day. Grand Final day is here…

The Rite of Spring 

Ball!

The Grand Final is colloquially known as The Big Dance. It’s unclear why, but perhaps because, like the high school social, there’s the prospect of ‘picking up’ at the end of it. Particularly if you’re on the winning team. Whatever the origin of the saying, we were certainly hoping to see Cyril and Buddy bust some moves.

In 2013 the reference to the ‘big dance’ perhaps has more resonance because it is the 100th anniversary of the first performance of The Rite of Spring, the famous ballet by Igor Stravinsky and Vaslav Nijinsky.

The Rite of Spring celebrates in music and dance the pagan rituals of spring; which in Melbourne in September can only mean the Grand Final.

In the ballet the performers embark on a series of dances that symbolise them becoming one with the earth and giving thanks for its bounty. There is a dance called the ‘Ritual of the Rival Tribes’, which carries a clear Grand Final theme of the opposing fans coming together. This dance is followed by ‘Procession of the Sage’ during which Hawthorn takes the field.

In the second half there is a dance called ‘Mystic Circles of the Young Girls’, which is presumably set later in the night.  In ‘Evocation of the Ancestors’ ageing Hawthorn fans like me dance out tales about the glory days of the 80s – that bit goes for awhile – while ‘Glorification of the Chosen One’ sees Brian Lake take centre stage for a dynamic solo.

The ballet concludes with the ‘Sacrificial Dance’ in which the chosen girl dances herself to death as a sacrifice to the pagan Gods, a clear symbol of the exertion, endeavour and determination the Hawks displayed, their preparedness to ‘pay the price’ as Allan Jeans might have had it.

The opening performance of The Rite of Spring was greeted with a hostile reception from the audience – heckling, jeering, booing, not unlike the reception Hawthorn fans were able to give Crowley and Ballantyne after their debut Grand final performance.

Of course The Rite of Spring is most famous for the music, now a staple of the classical repertoire, it is synonymous with bold invention and wild experimentation, much like Clarko’s game plan, or Cyril paddling the ball though a pack.

However, if we were to tell the story of the Grand Final in song, there’s only one song that can really encapsulate the day, and that is of course the Hawthorn theme song.  Cue the trad-jazz quartet, the banjo player and get ready for the trumpet solo.


We’re a happy team at Hawthorn

Well ‘happy’ isn’t the word – more like delirious. I wept, I quaffed Veuve Cliquot, I hugged grown men I’ve never met before, and this is without even activating my Grindr app.

We’re the mighty fighting Hawks

The game was tough and rugged and this was no more exemplified than after 5 minutes when it was 5 tackles to zero (our way).  And after Mitchell went down twice in the first quarter, Buddy put Crowley down, once illegally for which he was penalised, but on another occasion he hip and shouldered Crowley as he took possession and sent him sprawling. Cyril laid several crunching tackles and in one memorable passage Hawthorn just muscled the ball forward without taking possession, until eventually winning a free kick.

Despite what the pundits thought, Hawthorn’s tackling was fiercer and stronger and we were exerting such pressure that Freo simply wasn’t getting any clean disposals and were duffing those they did.

We love our club

I love Hawthorn more than ever after Saturday’s win. And it’s a love that borders on the irrational, perhaps even the unnatural, and quite possibly the illegal in some states, but it’s a love nonetheless.

As I’ve pointed out earlier in this blog, most football fans are more likely to be unfaithful to their partners than to their football teams. While I could never support any team other than Hawthorn, I’d welcome it if Rihanna wanted to push me to the ground and strut up and down my spine in her heels.

Of course as events today are proving, it doesn’t always work the same for players.  Buddy Franklin is set to accept an offer from the Sydney Swans. Buddy, it seems, wants to get out of Melbourne so he can live his life without his every move being reported in the media. Fair enough. Perhaps you have to have been subjected to those sorts of constraints before you can appreciate what it is like. I mean how often can you walk out your door to find Damo, Hutchy or me rifling through your bin before you get sick of it?

It does seem, however, that Sydney simply doesn’t have a salary cap. How the AFL can continue with a system that is so clearly being rorted defies understanding.  If you were to pick a song for how Hawk fans feel upon hearing this news, you might go for Dylan's 'It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding' and the line, "Money doesn't talk, it swears".

Of course I’ll always wish the best for Buddy, but I don’t care if the Sydney Swans send themselves broke and rot at the bottom of the ladder for several years.

And of course now I’ve got to change all my passwords and get the giant 23 tattoo removed from my back, unless we can hand the number on to someone equally fabulous. Sam Grimley perhaps?

And we play to win

This is really where Hawthorn differentiates itself from Fremantle, because we try to win by moving the ball forwards and kicking goals. Simple really. It’s less clear how Fremantle hope to win big games with all their players packed into the opposition’s 50 metre arc. Brian Lake was able to take mark after mark, particularly in the final quarter, as there were no Freo players up forward to stop him.

Preventing the opposition from scoring is indeed part of the puzzle and Fremantle excels in this, but at some point you have to try and score yourself, and that seems to be the bit they haven’t quite figured out yet.

Ross Lyon has now had teams in four Grand Finals and the biggest tally of goals any of them have kicked is 10. You don’t win many fans with such a game plan, but you’re even less likely to win a Grand Final with 10 goals.

Riding the bumps with a grin, at Hawthorn

Riding the bumps – Mitchell took plenty, Buddy running back into an oncoming Mayne, the match was full of heroic acts. When I hear this line of the song, I think not only of the hits and bumps we absorbed in the Grand Final, and there were plenty, but of Brendon Whitecross. Two years in succession he’s injured his knee in the finals and missed the Grand Final, yet he has only ever shown a relaxed and philosophical, even positive outlook.

When the siren went on Saturday he was one of the first out on the ground, (well, perhaps not the first given that he was on crutches) to hug his replacement Jonathan Simpkin.

Of course he might do well to change his name from a well-known instrument of sacrifice to something less tempting to fate – something warmer and more nurturing, like Whitekitten or Whitewomb.

Come what may you’ll find us striving

In the third quarter when Fremantle were charging at us and getting on top, the Hawks kept going and bustled their way back into it. It was claustrophobic and stifling in the packs, but the Hawks held on and scored key goals at crucial moments – none more so than when Hill got it to Gunston who snapped from the goal square to put us 10 points in front.

Shiels and Gibbo collided effecting a spoil, but Birchall was there, leaping a prone Shiels as he gathered the ball, firing off a handball that started a chain to Stratton, back to Gibbo, over to Lewis and then to Hale just as the siren sounded.

It’s not a battle unless there’s a chance the result could go either way, and the third quarter proved to be pivotal. Hawthorn absorbed Freo’s best shots and then fired their own. In Paradise Regained Christ triumphs over Satan, but the tale has no moral substance unless there was a chance he might not.  Come what may…

Teamwork is the thing that talks…4, 3, 2

In the second quarter, Mitchell tackled Crowley to dispossess him. Buddy charged forward to grab the ball, handballed immediately to an oncoming Cyril who passed to Gunston to run in and kick a goal from 50.

Not long after this incident, Ballantyne marked 35 metres out. He could have passed quickly to Walters who had cruised into the goal square by himself, but decided to take the kick himself…which he duly duffed.

That was the difference - the Hawks worked with and for each other all day. Fremantle’s much vaunted defence was beaten by Hawthorn’s even better defence. Lake, Gibson, Stratton, Guerra, Hodge and Birchall combined beautifully all day.

One for all and all for one is the way we play at Hawthorn

Much has been made of Mitchell being held by Crowley, and while he may not have won as many possessions as usual, he was in everything. In the final quarter in quick succession he upended both Fyfe and Johnson as they were each about to shoot towards goal. No possessions, but two match saving acts.

The Poo didn’t have many clean possessions, but in the final quarter he fought and fought to keep the ball in our forward pocket, holding off three Fremantle defenders in a gang tackle. Moments later he kicked the ball forward for Hill to run onto it and kick the sealer.

As the statistics show, Hawthorn had a very even spread of possession winners across the team, showing that this was a collective effort. Lake and Gunston stood out at either end, but only because of the hard work from those in between.

We are the mighty fighting Hawks!

We are indeed mighty – a team that has been hand crafted to meet our own unique needs. Burgoyne, Guerra, Gibson, Gunston, Hale, Simpkin and Lake  - all brought in from other clubs to play particular roles. In the argot of today, Hawthorn is truly a bespoke team.

And talking of fighting Hawks, some observers questioned the recruitment of Brian Lake to Hawthorn, particularly after he and his wife were arrested in Sorrento over summer. Okay,it was just me, but I did add the caveat that – see post from 30 March – “Of course it could be that both Brian and his better half are bringing to the club just the ruthless ‘no-holds-barred’ attitude that we need to succeed. In any case, I’ll happily eat my words, when they drape the Norm Smith medal around his neck later this year.”

Consider those words eaten and digested.

Trumpet solo….bridge

Repeat 

The day after
left to right: Florine, Pete, Chan-Tha, Phillip and Oscar

Iconic moments  

There’s been a chorus of complaint from various commentators about the quality of the game. Apparently it wasn’t as spectacular as it could have been. These are the same journalists that during the week talked up Fremantle as likely premiers, completely forgetting that they play an uber-defensive game based on no one scoring. It’s a game plan that even Italian soccer would be embarrassed by. So I’m not sure what sort of spectacle these people were expecting.

Rohan Connolly, Martin Flanagan and Hutchy were just a few who moaned that there were no ‘iconic’ moments in the match. Let’s ignore for the moment that ‘iconic’ is the most overused and misused word in Australian media, (along with ‘bespoke’ which I also made a point of using earlier) and simply apologise for this terrible oversight. Sorry fellas – take the cup away rom us if you must. We didn’t realise that the entire season of hard work and effort needed to also produce one particular incident that would look suitably dramatic when replayed ad-fucking-nauseum in super slo-mo for almost all of 2014.

But no iconic moments? I beg to differ. What about Isaac Smith’s 60 metre goal in the final quarter? Luke Breust bursting from the pack moments later to kick another, Ben Stratton running down Ryan Crowley as he closed in on goal, Cyril’s tackles, Gunston trapping the ball in the goal square late in the third and squeezing through his fourth for the match to give us a decisive edge at ¾ time. Need I go on? I will then.

Nat Fyfe’s three set shots that resulted in one behind and two out on the full. Suban and Pavlich missing easy set shots, MacPharlane overstepping the mark when Buddy was lining up. And then there’s little Hayden Ballantyne’s highlights package – dropping a chest mark 50 metres out from goal, slipping over in the middle of the ground, not giving off to Walters who was by himself in the goal square, missing a set shot from 20 metres when the game was on the line, following up a few minutes later by missing one on the run – all this from the man who was supposedly going to be the difference – well he was, just not in the way he intended.

All of these are iconic moments worthy of replay on an endless loop. We're a happy team at Hawthorn...


Final scores: Hawthorn 11  11  77  d  Fremantle 8  14  62.


What we learned: The cultural cringe is still alive and well. While Hunters & Collectors provided the half-time entertainment, the Birds of Tokyo played pre-match. I mean why do we need to import these big bands from Japan to play on our special day?

I also heard that Rihanna, who is in Australia at the moment, expressed interest in performing at the Grand Final. How good would that be? Sometimes getting the big international act isn’t cultural cringe – it’s just getting the big act. Rihanna would bring sass and near nudity to the occasion, and given that she’s been receiving poor reviews for lip-synching, being drunk on stage and slurring her words (I don’t know how you can do both, but anyway), she sounds like a perfect fit for the Grand Final. Oh well, another missed opportunity.


What we already knew: You can take the boy out of Colac…but you can’t take Colac out of the boy. In his post-match speech, Luke Hodge tried to console the Freo boys, saying, "We know exactly how youse feel". You might excuse him for trying to use language he knew the players would understand, except that this is the second year in a row he's used 'youse' as a collective pronoun.

'Cheers...Go Hawks'

Post-script: For two years Twenty3 has tracked every Hawthorn game and each tidbit of Hawthorn gossip, but now that we've won the flag there really is nothing more to say. Life has turned full circle, the cosmos is correctly aligned etc. But also, with Buddy leaving, the number 23 is losing some of its lustre and much of its meaning. With that Twenty3 is going to lose itself in a post premiership fog of Veuve, Hawthorn Pale Ale and season highlights.  

Preliminary Final - Hawthorn v Geelong

Friday 20 September 2013, MCG

Wait long by the river and the bodies of your enemies will float by

"Wait long by the river..."

‘Wait long by the river and the bodies of your enemies will float by’ is the title of the second album by The Drones. It may also be an ancient Japanese proverb, or just a made up maxim attributed to the Japanese by Sean Connery in the 1993 movie, Rising Sun, but whatever the origins of the saying, its central message of ‘good things come to those who wait’ or ‘patience is a virtue’ or ‘Up Yours Geelong!’ has most Hawks fans nodding in recognition.

In fact Hawks fans taking the trek from the G to the city after Friday night’s Preliminary Final might have taken a glance at the lapping brown tide of the Yarra and been able to make out in the murk the slime-coated, litter-bespecked empty vessels of our long-time adversaries Johnson and Selwood, Bartel, Lonergan, Corey, Kelly and Mackie all drifting quietly past. Bon voyage boys…

Jeff was right!

In the lead-up to the match there was, as always when these sides meet, much talk about the ‘Kennett curse’. On the eve of the 2009 season after defeating Geelong in the 2008 Grand Final, Hawthorn president Jeff Kennett said that Geelong didn’t have the mental toughness to defeat Hawthorn in big games

“They don't have the psychological drive we have. We've beaten Geelong when it matters.”

As we all know the Hawks haven’t beaten the Cats in their 11 subsequent meetings, giving rise to the notion of the curse.

Having now finally defeated Geelong, much is being made of the fact that the curse is now broken. But was there really ever a curse? And really, didn’t Friday night’s events prove that Jeff was right after all?

If you examine his exact quote, you’ll see he was referring to “…when it matters”. He said nothing about the piddling Home & Away games that make up 10 of the 11 losses. And the other was a Qualifying Final, not a knock-out, do-or-die encounter. So of the last five games that really ‘mattered’ Hawthorn has won every one of them: 1989 Grand Final, 1991 Second-semi Final, 2000 Elimination Final, 2008 Grand Final and 2013 Preliminary Final.

Geelong fans can do their gloating over Home & Away games if they like (and as any Hawthorn fan knows, they haven’t held back), but we’ll save ours for the matches that matter.

Missing the target

The Hawks couldn't find the target,
but they found their way onto the ground

Of course anyone watching the match would have been forgiven for thinking the curse was still active, for surely some malevolent supernatural entity or evil spirit was putting a hex on our set shots for goal.

In no particular order, Hale (twice), Breust (thrice), Lewis, Shiels, Roughead and Gunston, all missed relatively straight forward set shots for goal. There may well have been others, but by the final quarter I was no longer able to watch when we were lining up. I just waited for the collective moan to tell the story before I lifted my head.

They were spraying it everywhere, like men aiming into a toilet bowl after 11pm at a party. Honestly, you’d think the goal face was a narrow aperture in the space time continuum that appeared only fleetingly like a slim, wavering tear, just long enough for Dr Who to slip through in the Tardis, before quickly closing up. As Matthew (19:24) sayeth, quoting Jesus, “Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for the Hawks to slot one through the big sticks at the G.”

Ebb and flow…and more ebb

The match began inauspiciously, and I don’t mean the free kick the umpire paid to Geelong within seconds of the start, but the woman behind me who’d grabbed my shoulder to pull me down after I stood to cheer on the Hawks during a stoppage. Then when I turned to enquire if she thought she was at the ballet, her husband pulled my cap over my eyes. I think they thought it was the 1989 Grand Final and they were actually playing for Geelong. On half time when I cheered The Rough’s big mark I overheard their daughter suggesting that her dad jab me in the ribs! In retrospect I’m lucky they didn’t take me out at the first bounce, Mark Yeates style. And I hadn’t even begun to be obnoxious by that point.

For two and a half quarters Hawthorn had the ascendency in general play but we were simply unable to convert our opportunities. Whereas when Geelong went forward they rarely missed. Johnson was playing a brilliant game for Geelong and looked set to decide the course of the match on his own; Bartel was playing well as always and they were easily covering the loss of our arch-nemesis Paul Chapman.

Both teams enjoyed periods of superiority. Geelong had got out to a 19 point lead in the second quarter before Hawthorn clawed back and edged in front, point by agonising point. Our inaccuracy was becoming a crucial factor, in particular Roughead’s miss after the siren. After taking a soaring mark on the edge of the goal square he managed to miss the goal, somewhat sapping the momentum we’d been building.

The third quarter opened fairly evenly, but when Birchall ran through Stokes it resulted in a Bartel goal, a scuffle, and a short but decisive period when the hex kicked in and everything went wrong for Hawthorn and right for Geelong.

Selwood and Guthrie kicked goals, then after Burgoyne got one back for us, Cyril took an absolute screamer in the goal square, but either it wasn’t paid, or he decided playing on in the goal square while sitting down was a good percentage play, or more likely, it was an earthly manifestation that there is no God. Either way, it resulted in Geelong sweeping the ball forward and Motlop kicking a goal. Taylor kicked another over his shoulder. Then with the ball bobbling near the boundary it came off a Geelong boot, as the replay clearly illustrated, but the sheer force of Geelong whingeing left the umpires undecided – even though everyone at the ground and everyone watching on TV could tell exactly what happened – and they elected to ball it in, from which of course Geelong scored again.

In the space of five minutes and two or three crucial moments where baffling calls had gone against us, our one point deficit had blown out to a 20 point deficit at three quarter time. I was not alone among Hawthorn fans in thinking we were gone.

3/4time sulking

Taking stock at three quarter time: Sam Mitchell was playing one of his best ever games – which is saying something – Hale and Burgoyne were playing well, but Franklin, Roughead, Hodge and Sewell were all well below their normal standard and having very little impact. And at 20 points down, a season that had progressed quite swimmingly seemed destined to end in an all too predictable fashion.

I’ve been to every Grand Final since 1971 except for two; in 1996 I was overseas and 1999 I was at home with a newborn, but I decided then that I simply couldn’t bear to attend the Grand Final this year if Hawthorn wasn’t playing. After being the dominant side all year, to not even make the Grand Final seemed just too depressing a scenario to face. I was in full sulk mode and that newborn from 1999 was sitting next to me at the game feeling exactly the same.

From grief to belief

When Franklin got his boot on the end of a loose ball in the goal square I thought we had a slight chance. The field umpire signalled ‘all clear’, the goal umpire stuck out his two fingers and did his little semaphore thing with the flags and everyone went back to position. Then someone sitting in a sort of Panic room somewhere decided that the goal needed to be reviewed. So ignoring that two umpires standing close by and 36 players had settled on a decision, they decided they’d like to intervene and slow things up. I wasn’t even aware there was allowance for this sort of thing and I can’t help feeling that had it been anyone other than Buddy whose toe had nudged the ball through, play would simply have resumed.

If two blokes watching on TV can just stop the game at any given moment, why didn’t they intervene when Cyril’s mark wasn’t paid? Why didn’t they intervene when Geelong kicked the ball out on the full and the umpires called for a ball-in?

After Caddy kicked one for Geelong it was back to 19 points and it stayed that way for several crucial minutes. It was 96 to 77 at the 13 minute mark and I recalled Leigh Matthews’ elegantly simple theory that the first team to 100 usually wins. At that moment it didn’t look like it would be Hawthorn. We still trailed by more than three goals and I’d moved beyond fearing the worst and was well into the second or third stage of the grief cycle.

Then it turned. A Burgoyne tackle affected Bartel’s clearing kick which landed with Bradley Hill, who goaled. Then Burgoyne handballed to Gunston for another and then he ran in himself to put us in front!  Of course there were several behinds littered amongst this burst and several more to come, but we found ourselves in an eerily familiar position – six points up with, well, who knew how long left.

Stratton took two big pack marks from Geelong kick-ins, Burgoyne was in everything, Cyril was just starting to get involved, Mitchell simply didn’t let the ball get past him and suddenly we believed…until Geelong broke free one last time and got the ball to Varcoe who was in space about 30 metres out…but before we even had time to form the thought, ‘My God, it’s happening again, I can’t believe it’, Varcoe missed! For once Geelong had missed!

Such was the noise that no one heard the final siren, because Cyril had it 15 metres out and he played on to Buddy, which therefore didn’t count. We’d won! We’d beaten Geelong! But more importantly, we’d made it to the Grand Final!

Goal dancing 

A misguided decision to drive to the game meant that I couldn’t celebrate in a manner befitting the occasion – guzzling champagne, lubing up and climbing nude up one of the goal posts while waving a Hawthorn flag, but watch out for that if we win next week.

Defeating Geelong by less than a goal in a final is a fitting way to end the hoodoo.  On the one hand it would have been nice to bury them, as our shots on goal suggested we should have, but that would have given the Geelong players and fans time to get accustomed to the idea of losing, to frame it in a philosophical light, and even leave early. Whereas this way they got to experience a little of what Hawks fans have felt over the past 11 meetings as we’ve been overrun in the final quarter or lost on the final kick. Except on this occasion there is a Grand Final appearance at stake.

My thoughts turned to the Geelong fan sitting in front of me in Round one who actually wished death upon Buddy; to all those Cats fans I know who have Facebooked and texted me after Geelong has beaten us in the past five years; and to the people behind me at this match who, naturally, had left before I had a chance to wish them a pleasant drive back to South Barwon. In fact they’d left before we reached “we love our club” in the first rendition of the song. So since they couldn’t stay, I applauded the Geelong players off on their behalf. After all, they’d played a great match and had a wonderful season. They were just beaten by a team whose destiny is to win the 2013 premiership.


Final scores: Hawthorn 14 18 102  d  Geelong 15 7 97


What we learned: All hoodoos end, all curses are broken.

In my most recent report of the Geelong v Hawthorn Groundhog Day experience in Round 15, I lamented that a Brit (even though he’s actually a Scot) had managed to win Wimbledon while Hawthorn still couldn’t defeat Geelong. There I was thinking this was a sign that the hoodoo might last forever, when in fact it was a sign that all hoodoos end. I mean even Geelong won a premiership in 2007 after 44 years and five Grand Final losses.

Get in the witchdoctors

Spain eventually won a World Cup in 2010 after 80 years, England reclaimed the Ashes in 2005 after 18 years, Adam Scott became the first Australian to win the US Masters in 2013 after several close calls, and Australia won the America’s Cup in 1983 after 129 years.

Even if it did exist, the Kennett curse is mild by comparison to some others. In rugby Ireland has never beaten the All Blacks and the Welsh haven’t beaten them since 1953.

The most famous sporting curse is ‘The curse of the Bambino’ in baseball. In 1918 after winning the World Series, the Boston Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees. In footy terms, it’s a bit like letting Gary Ablett Snr go to Geelong. Like Ablett, Babe Ruth furthered his reputation with the Yankees, but the difference is that while Hawthorn won their way to seven successive Grand Finals and eight of the next nine without Ablett, winning five of them, The Red Sox endured an 86 year drought, eventually winning in 2004.

Melbourne is suffering under a similar curse. After legendary coach Norm Smith took them to the 1964 premiership, his sixth overall as coach of Melbourne, they sacked him during the 1965 season, and they haven’t won since.

My favourite sporting curse, however, involves the Socceroos and a witchdoctor. I mean if a curse is to be taken seriously there should be a witchdoctor involved, not just a former state premier. Of course many on the left of politics might place Jeff Kennett in that category anyway.

The story was first related in Johnny Warren’s autobiography, ‘Sheilas, Wogs and Poofters’  The Australian team was playing Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) in 1969 in Mozambique and was trying to qualify for the 1970 World Cup. They organised for a witchdoctor to place a curse on Rhodesia, which he did by burying some bones near the goal posts and presumably incantations and strage dancing were also involved.  Australia won 3-1, but when the witch doctor asked for payment, the team couldn’t provide it. So the witch doctor reversed the curse and placed it on Australia.

Australia did qualify for the 1974 World Cup, but were drawn to play host Germany and were duly thumped. Since then they had never qualified again, despite being 2-0 up against Iran in the second half at the MCG in 1997, needing only to hang on to win, and in 2001 losing to Uruguay in the final qualifier.

The curse was eventually lifted by comedian John Safran in his show ‘John Safran versus God.’ He travelled to Mozambique to find the witch doctor and have him reverse the curse.

As it happened, the witchdoctor had died, but Safran found another witchdoctor who could channel the original one. As Safran told David Sygall of The Age on 20 November 2005: "that involved us sitting in the middle of the pitch and he killed a chicken and splattered the blood all over me.

"I then had to go to Telstra Stadium with Johnny and we had to wash ourselves in some clay the witchdoctor had given us."

At the next qualifying stage for the 2006 World Cup, Australia defeated Uruguay and got through.

Okay, I think everyone would like to see Jeff Kennett covered in chicken’s blood in the middle of the MCG, but failing that, defeating Geelong by less than a goal will just have to do.

Now we just have to give Freo the old heave-ho.


What we already knew: That with Paul Chapman out suspended it was out best chance yet of defeating Geelong since 2008. It may be apocryphal but Chapman had vowed after the 2008 Grand Final that Geelong would never lose to Hawthorn again. And he’s been as good as his word, combining with Bartel to get us every time.

Chapman is a restricted free agent next season and Geelong so far seems undecided about keeping him on their list. I advocate that Hawthorn should recruit him, not to play as such, but just to make sure he never plays against us.


Addendum: As I write this, the Box Hill Hawks have just defeated Geelong in the VFL Grand Final. Geelong had won 13 games in succession leading into the match and were strong favourites to go back-to-back…remind you of anything?

Qualifying Final - Hawthorn v Sydney Swans

Friday 6 September, 2013, MCG

Hawthorn’s mandate

Hugs all round 1
photo - bloomberg.com

It is tempting to draw an analogy between the Coalition’s victory in Saturday’s Federal election and Hawthorn’s victory in Friday night’s Qualifying Final. Both were favoured to win and both did so reasonably easily, but while the Coalition victory was clear very early in the contest, Hawthorn’s superiority wasn’t clear until beyond the half-way mark.

When you check the final scores, however, you see that the Coalition won 85 to 54, whereas Hawthorn’s victory was much a more emphatic 105 to 51. That’s what I call a mandate.

The Coalition may be boasting that 'It’s Tony time' but at Hawthorn, we‘re claiming it as ‘Hodgey’s hour’ or ‘Sammy’s stint’, for once again they were the stars of the night, along with David Hale and Brad Sewell.

Hugs all round 2
photo - zimbio.com

While it might also be tempting to find parallels between various individuals from both the Coalition and Hawthorn – for example, compare Tony Abbot's and Luke Hodge’s steely resolve, Joe Hockey's and Jarryd Roughead’s robust bullocking work, Christopher Pyne’s and Jack Gunston’s straight shooting – or at least the fact they both come from Adelaide, Malcolm Turnbbull’s and Buddy Franklin’s vast fortunes, you fall down when you come to Julie Bishop – for while Clarko might match her death stare, only Dermie can claim to have her hair and eye for matching accessories, and he’s long retired.

Besides, personally I list to the left politically, so comparing my Hawthorn heroes to right-wing neo-conservative enemies of the people such as Greg Hunt and as Sophie Mirabella leaves me feeling slightly ill.

Five-time premiership player
for Hawthorn
photo: heraldsun.com.au 

Newly appointed Minister
for Foreign Affairs
photo: zimbio.com

Hung parliament - the first half

If we’re talking politics though, the first half of Friday night’s match resembled the previous parliament: tight, tenacious and tough with no clear winners and no side holding any real advantage.

Without Buddy and Cyril, it was hard to work out which team held the balance of power. For Hodge, Mitchell and Roughead, Sydney could boast Jack, Kennedy and O’Keefe.

There was the occasional highlight, such as Sammy’s extraordinary handball out in front of Roughead who ran onto it and kicked truly from 50, Bradley Hill’s run, Spangher’s first quarter goal and commanding presence, but mostly any ground gained was through a scrap – getting the ball forward was not unlike Gillard trying to get legislation though.

Going in at half time even on 4.7 each reflected how the match had been played. While we might have been lamenting the reduction in our scoring power without Franklin and Rioli, Sydney were finding it tough to score as well. Tippet was proving no real threat as yet, and Gibson, Lake and Guerra were matching them down back.

Ahead in the polls - Third quarter

After the struggle of the first half, the Hawks slowly and methodically edged ahead in the second.

At the end of last season we recruited Brian Lake as a tall, strong defender to help negate players like Kurt Tippet, particularly in the finals (although he had played brilliantly all year). And here we were playing against Tippet after his move from Adelaide to Sydney, a move, if we can allow ourselves to continue the election analogy, that had many football fans demanding of Sydney exactly what the ALP spent the entire campaign demanding of Abbott and Hockey – ‘show us your costings!’

Tippet had kicked two first quarter goals, but Lake had repelled many other opportunities and here he was early in the third running hard forward and doubling back to mark in front of Tippet 50 metres out. He then launched into a massive punt which sailed through! Lake had more than justified his recruitment with this kick alone. And it seemed to break something in Sydney, for a succession of Hawthorn goals ensued.

Some extraordinary running from Isaac Smith resulted in a pass to Bailey who marked 25 out from goal, and duly converted.

Hodge passed to Hale and Guerra passed to Shields, resulting in two more set shot goals and suddenly we had a four goal lead. We’d kicked four goals through Lake, Bailey, Hale and Shields. As a work colleague commented to me post match, ‘No Buddy, no Cyril, no worries’.

The Poo added a nice running goal after more nice ruck work from Hale – and we went into the final quarter with a four goal advantage.

The Landslide victory – the final quarter

We opened the final quarter with Roughead and Anderson both missing set shots, followed by O’Keefe kicking one for the Swans, and our lead was back to 19 points.

But before we had time to get anxious, Roughead had stabbed a bullet like pass to Gunston who kicked accurately. Further goals to Hale, Roughead and Anderson soon settled the matter and with it, any nerves.

Anderson’s goal came after a brilliant pack mark against two Swans, prompting the gentleman behind me to publicly declare his love for the 19 year old. He was probably in his late 40s, so I pointed out to him the age difference and the fact that Anderson was already married with a young child. These may constitute impediments, but true love, if it's strong enough, will overcome all.

Our affections moved to Breust pretty quickly after he snapped truly to put us 51 points in front. By the end Spangher’s every possession (and to everyone's surprise he was getting a few of them) was greeted with a roar where i was sitting - he was literally obtaining cult status as the match wore on. Jack Gunston continued the goal junket on the siren and the Hawks had secured power with a decisive 54 point victory.

 The Yays have it

A great start to finals campaign defeating our vanquishers from last season. With Buddy and Cyril to return, we're looking strong just when we need to be strong.


Final scores: Hawthorn 15 15 105  d  Sydney Swans 7 9 51


What we learned: Think local - Act global. Just before the match we learnt that Cyril was out with an ankle injury! While this had been widely tipped, my efforts to track down the latest via the Hawthorn app, AFL app or The Age proved fruitless. I finally got the news from Chan-Tha who is holidaying in New York. Crawf has tweeted.


What we already knew: Spangher is the Saviour!  Well he looks like him at least. The idea that Matt Spangher was retaining his place in the team to replace the suspended Buddy Franklin was met with general mirth among most footy fans – particularly Hawthorn fans. It’s not that he doesn’t try or put in – he certainly does – but it's fair to say he's no Buddy. Which is perhaps unfair in itself, because the same could be said of most players. Whereas Buddy plays like the messiah, Spangher just looks like him. And as my friend Pete observed, he brings a decent full beard to the team that can compete more evenly with Sydney's than the messy stubble that Hodge, The Poo and co. sport.


Freo – friend or foe?: Last year Fremantle did Hawthorn a favour by knocking out Geelong from the finals, whereas this year they’ve knocked them into our path – thanks Freo. Perhaps we deserve it for not being able to win it last year when they were out of the way.

Round 23 - Sydney Swans v Hawthorn

Friday 30 August 2013, ANZ Stadium

Rough play

The bump felt around the world
 - photo: foxsports.com.au

I feel sick. I’ve felt sick since about 8.30pm on Friday night. Sure the Hawks turned on a stirring final quarter burst for an impressive victory over Sydney in Sydney. And sure we secured top spot on the ladder, but Buddy’s report for a bump on Malceski prevented me from enjoying any of it.

Just waiting for the verdict left me feeling ill for the entire weekend. It was like having unbridled sex with a lascivious beauty only to discover that the condom has broken – you’ve had the exhilaration but all you’re left with is the anxiety.

Not that Malceski didn’t deserve a tap after kicking the winning goal in last year’s Grand Final, but in a dead rubber (as opposed to a broken one), when in all likelihood we were always going to be playing Sydney again the following week, there was simply no need for any bumping, late or otherwise. Pat him on the back, ask him for beard grooming tips and get on with the match – that’s all that was required. Or better still, try and smother the ball. Just an idea.

Rarely, you suspect, has a team finishing the home and away season on top been left feeling quite so flat leading into the finals. And now we have to play Sydney again, this time without Buddy while they bring in Tippet.

There is a school of thought that Hawthorn is better, or at least as good without Buddy, but regular readers of this blog will know I don’t subscribe to such tosh. What team could be improved by removing the best player in the competition? I remain in a state of deep stress about our first final. Nothing that some unbridled sex with a lascivious beauty wouldn’t relieve mind you, but I can’t help feeling that in that one split second, even if Malceski’s jaw wasn’t fractured, Hawthorn’s premiership campaign might have been.

Rough plays!

On the other hand, we do have The Golden Rough! – our deserving Coleman medalist for 2013!

The Rough! kicked 4 goals on Friday night to secure not only the medal but victory for Hawthorn. His first – and our first, as is often the case – came from a strong mark in front of goal after Buddy spotted him up with a perfectly weighted kick from the centre circle.

His second came in the third quarter when Savage bombed long to the goal square and The Rough! shot up with an impressive, balletic vertical leap to take the grab. The resulting goal brought us back to within 10 points.

The third came in the final quarter and put us in front. Waiting under a long kick forward, The Rough! worked his opponent under the ball which bounced behind them. The Rough! swung his boot at it indiscriminately, nearly beheading The Poo who was dashing past to take possession, which he did, and handballed back to The Rough!, who slid it through to put us in front.

His fourth came barely a minute later after a ball up near our goal. The Rough! took the ball from a Swans tap while simultaneously dislodging a couple of Sydney barnacles and barged through the pack into an open goal. Glorious.

Who doesn’t love a bit of Rough!

 Roughing it - photo: theage.com

If I’m allowed a quibbling note, I think the medal for leading goal kicker should be renamed on the basis that Essendon has brought such shame upon the competition that no major award should bear the name of one of their players. Let's see...Hudson, Peck, Dunstall, Moncrieff, Franklin  - just throwing in a few names for consideration.

It’s Time!

In truth the Hawks were outplayed for most of the night, trailing by around three goals for the vast majority of the game. And by more than four at one stage in the second quarter.  In the language of the election campaign, we were languishing in the polls. Or to adopt the ALP’s campaign slogan, we needed ‘a new way’ (the ALP marketing team seemingly having forgotten that it’s actually they who have been in power these last few years).

This was the second consecutive week the Hawks had slipped behind by more than four goals. While we came back to win on both occasions, it’s concerning that we’re getting into this position in the first place.

After poor games in the Preliminary and Grand finals last year, Hawthorn people have been at pains to talk about the importance of pacing our performance this season and being primed to peak in September. Well, we’re here now so to quote a more famous and slightly punchier ALP slogan from the past, ‘It’s Time!’

"It's time" - Hawks fans gear up for the finals
- photo: abc.net.au

Real Solutions.  Real Change.

The game picked up towards the end of the third quarter with Hawthorn trailing by 21 points. From that moment, Buddy kicked a goal from 50, Savage kicked long for The Rough! to mark, and Sewell won a hard ball, got it to Mitchell who snapped a left foot goal. Suddenly we were back within 4 points.

An outrageous decision against Lake gifted Sydney another goal, but after that, Breust wrenched the ball from a pack and handballed to the Poo who snagged another one.

In the final quarter Hawthorn completely dominated, kicking 3.2 to zero in the opening minutes, including a goal to Anderson after a strong tackle was rewarded, and two to The Rough! as highlighted above.

It was exhilarating to watch and my cries of Rough!!! must have echoed across the neighbourhood.

In what is hopefully a sign of what we can expect in September; Hodge, Mitchell, Sewell, Burgoyne, Roughead and Birchall began to influence every contest. Real leaders providing ‘Real solutions’ and ‘real change’ to quote the Liberal party campaign slogan (in the interests of political balance of course). These are true leaders standing up for what’s important…a Hawthorn win!  If we could be confident our political aspirants from either side would exert half the doggedness and determination our Hawks showed in the final quarter, we’d perhaps have a little more confidence in the outcome of Saturday’s election.

The game ended on a high. After Parker pegged one back for the Swans, Breust and Gunston both took marks and kicked accurately to get our lead out beyond three goals. And by the end, like some maverick from the Wikileaks party or Palmer United getting in on preferences, even Brian Lake got on the end of a Birchall pass and kicked a long set shot to settle the match.


Final scores: Hawthorn 17 10 112 d Sydney Swans 15 4 94


What we learned: well, several things actually: firstly, the brown back jumper teamed with the brown shorts looks very urban chic, very now. I’m all for this look to continue.

Thanks to Bruce McAvaney, we also know that no one in the history of the AFL/VFL has ever retired on 322 games. Bruce delivered this bombshell revelation apropos of Jude Bolton’s current game count, noting in passing of course that as Jude would, in all likelihood, be playing again next week, then neither would he be retiring on 322 games. It makes you wonder how people understood football pre-Bruce.

In previewing the first week of the finals, Caro said on Footy Classified on Monday night that although Richmond has seldom beaten Carlton in recent times (just once in their past 10 meetings) they tend to beat them in finals.

And this is true: of their most recent 13 finals, Richmond has won 9, Carlton just 3 and there was one draw.

Of course the most recent of these matches was in 2001, when current captain, Trent Cotchin, was just 11 years old. The other 12 meetings took place between 1967 and 1982. Of the current playing list, only Chris Newman was actually alive for any of these matches, and even then he was only four months old at the time of the 82 Grand Final.

I like Caro’s thinking, and call me a boring empiricist if you wish, I just think that matches played between the current groups of players (i.e. the most recent 10 games) might be a better guide to the likely outcome this weekend than matches played between 1967 and 1973, when none of the current players were actually alive.


What we already knew, but didn’t want to admit: The game is not what it was. Football purists have this season been mourning that the bump is dead and lamenting the loss of this sound defensive strategy. The bump is one thing, but it seems now that even more enduring and dearly-held traditions are under threat from namby-pamby, do-gooder, politically correct modern administrators – I speak of course about setting alight dwarves at Mad Monday celebrations. Once this time-honoured tradition goes the game simply won’t be what it was. Just like cricket that has become so sterile that punching out the opposition’s opening batsman in a pub is now frowned upon.