Grand Final - Sydney Swans v Hawthorn

Saturday 27 September, MCG

Hawthorn Hedonism

"The sweetest victory of all"
left to right: Oscar, Tom and Grant celebrate

“This is the sweetest victory of all,” said Paul Keating at the Bankstown Sports Club on 13 March 1993. “This is a victory for the true believers.” The occasion was the ALP’s victory in the federal election, but he might just as easily have been referring to Hawthorn’s victory over Sydney in the 2014 AFL Grand Final.

Hawthorn overcame adversity on an almost Kurdish scale to triumph in this year’s premiership: Buddy Franklin defecting to the opponent at the end of last season, coach Alastair Clarkson being hospitalised and out of the game for five weeks with Guillain-Barre syndome, long-term injuries during the season to key players Luke Hodge, Sam Mitchell, Josh Gibson, Cyril Rioli, Ben Stratton and Brad Sewell, suspensions to Brian Lake and Jarryd Roughead, the toughest draw of any club, an avaricious Grand Final opponent with a higher salary cap than any other team, and Ryan Schoenmakers’ hair bun.

If Buddy’s defection to Sydney soured to a degree 2013’s Grand Final win, then this is one we can savour; not just because of the obstacles we overcame, or that we won so emphatically, but because Buddy was on the other team and in his own way, got to share in it.

However, if this was a victory for the true believers, there weren’t many of them in the lead up to the match. In the betting markets, the Swans were short-priced favourites, starting the match at $1.35 to Hawthorn’s $2.65 – a massive differential for a two-team contest. In The Age on the day before the match, 19 ‘experts’ tipped Sydney to win, compared to just four for Hawthorn (and they shall be named and feted: Jesse Hogan, Peter Hanlon, Michael Gleeson and Wayne Carey). Even on the day after we’d won by 10 goals, the AFL website still had Sydney listed as overwhelming favourites. We weren’t just underdogs, we were whining, chained up mutts.

Of the 23 ‘experts’, 19 selected Swans players to win the Norm Smith medal, compared to just four selecting Hawthorn players, with Peter Hanlon and Wayne Carey both picking the Hawthorn/Luke Hodge double. Bizarrely more people thought Luke Parker would win the Norm Smith medal than Luke Hodge. What were they thinking? Who is Luke Parker?

The experts were talking up Sydney based on an impressive performance against North Melbourne the previous week, compared to Hawthorn’s relatively tougher and more taxing match against Port Adelaide. As far as short-sightedness goes, this is like getting a sleeve tattoo in your fit, toned and taut 20s without factoring in the sagging triceps, or chicken wing arms of your 50s.

In the finals Sydney had struggled to beat fourth-placed Fremantle and had then rolled over a weak North team, who had finished sixth. Compare this to Hawthorn who had defeated Geelong, a team that had sat top three for 13 weeks of the season, and Port Adelaide, who had spent longer at the top of the ladder during the season than any other team (7 weeks), including Sydney (6 weeks) and Hawthorn (5 weeks).

Aside from overcoming tougher finals opponents, the experts and tipsters seemed to have forgotten that Hawthorn finished with equal wins to Sydney (17), and defeated them on the same ground just eight weeks previous. Even when Sydney defeated Hawthorn in Round 8, it was in Sydney at a ground we’ve only played twice before and we were missing Luke Hodge, Sam Mitchell and Brian Lake, plus Josh Gibson and Cyril Rioli became injured during the game. And even then we only lost by 19 points.

These experts were blinded by the bling of Sydney’s supposed virtues and oblivious to any merits the Hawks might possess. Luke Parker, who I’d barely heard of, was suddenly being spoken of as the new Ablett – he was favourite for the Norm Smith medal no less. As good as Luke Parker might be, the experts in the media seemed to overlook that the Hawks boasted Luke Hodge and Luke Breust – that’s one more Luke for a start. They salivated over Sam Reid but forgot about Sam Mitchell, sang the praises of Jarrad McVeigh but barely mentioned Jarryd Roughead, acclaimed Lewis Jetta but neglected Jordan Lewis, glorified Kieran Jack but disregarded Jack Gunston, extolled Nick Smith and discounted Isaac Smith, praised Ben McGlynn and snubbed Ben Stratton and Ben McEvoy, and talked up Josh Kennedy over Josh Gibson. If the football media was to be believed, it was as if the Hawks weren’t going to be there at all. No one belived in us.

Florine with some Hawthorn bling!

Omens

When your team qualifies for the Grand Final you immediately search for omens to reassure you that they will achieve victory. Naturally this process also means that you have to overlook those inconvenient signs that don’t fit your preferred hypotheses. Nor does it matter that fans of the opposing team are also seeing their own signs and that you can’t both be right, but you persist with your portents all the same.

Having said that, the omens I identified leading into this match were fairly persuasive, and perhaps even partly responsible for our ultimate triumph.

The local team I support in the EDFL, Aberfeldie, made the Grand Final for the second successive year. In 2013 Abers lost and Hawthorn won, so when Abers made it back to back losses in 2014, it was a sure sign that the Hawks were also on their way to back to back wins.

I’m no fan of Olivia Newton-John’s music (though like most men my age I quite liked the tight black leggings she wore in the latter stages of Grease), but I couldn’t help but see the greater significance of the fact that when she last sang at the Grand Final in 1986, Hawthorn defeated Carlton in the Grand Final.

In 2013 when Hawthorn won its 11^th premiership, our number 11, Brendan Whitecross missed the match due to injury. Here we were going for our 12^th premiership and who gets left out of the side to play – number 12 Brad Sewell. On this basis, Kyle Cheney, number 13, has no chance of playing in the Grand Final next season. Kyle, you may as well know now.

This year I again queued early outside the MCC Members to secure a good seat for the game. Last year I’d managed to get in the front row on Level 2 of the MCC Members stand and sat second seat in from the aisle. The guy next to me last year was also a Hawthorn fan and a good Grand Final companion who knew the game well. When I arrived I again went to the same area and moved into the front to row, and who should be sitting in the aisle seat but my friend from the previous year. Did I know then that we'd win?

It’s not unusual

There are omens and then there are the Grand Final traditions. I’ve built up so many over the years that by the time I’ve fulfilled them all there is barely time to watch the game.

This year was even more complicated because Hawthorn friends Pete and Grant managed to wrangle a ticket for Oscar to attend. He wouldn’t be sitting with me, but he would be there, on hand to experience his first Grand Final at the ground! So after collecting my seat ticket in the MCC, I went home to collect Oscar and came back to the city.  Here was another sign that things were going to work out. All of this running around on public transport involved three train trips and a tram trip, but every connection was seamless and there were no excessive wait times.

Oscar and I met my brother Graeme for our traditional Grand Final breakfast at Il Solito Posto, off Collins Street. The owner is a classic – a Tiges fan that on this occasion was exasperated by a couple of elderly customers who were fussing over a luch menu that wasn’t yet available. An Il Solito breakfast is big and an excellent way to fortify yourself against later hunger and having to queue at the hot chip counter. Plus they serve beers. If the Tiges ever make the Granny, it will be the place to be pre-match.

We dispensed with our long-standing tradition of a beer at the Imperial on the corner of Bourke and Spring, and went instead to the Duke of Wellington to meet Pete, Grant and the gang to collect Oscar’s ticket. Graeme then made his way to the ground while Oscar and I joined the Hawthorn crew of Linda, Melinda, friends and family with whom I sat during the 80s. When Hawthorn is in the big one they hold a car park BBQ and we catch up with an array of old and new Hawks fans.

Then it was time to take Oscar to his entry gate and head into the ground. One quick Crowny at the Tower 6 Bar and I went to take my seat. My timing was poor, however, because I ventured to Level 2 just as Tom Jones was introduced, so you can imagine the congestion at the entry and the clogging of thoroughfares as the septuagenarians stood to squeeze out of their support garments to hurl them at Sir Tom.

As a former cheer squander from the 70s and 80s, I still love to check out the banners and the Hawks had a beauty to commemorate Hodgey’s 250^th game on one side and team bonding on the other.

On Grand Final day there seems to be a couple of hundred people on the arena when the teams run out, but nevertheless, the shivers buzzed up and down my body like a quick-working drug when the boys in brown and gold emerged. We’re here again.

It has been a recent tradition for teams to soundtrack their entry with music other than their club song. This is because most club songs are naff. Hawthorn’s and Sydney’s songs, for instance, both feature banjo solos. Most famously Port Adelaide have adopted INXS’s Never Tear Us Apart as their anthem, which must seem ironic to any of their former board members. I hadn’t realised, however, that Sydney had also adopted some entry music: in their case the opening tribal drums, heavy breathing and screaming of Kanye West’s Black Skinhead. It sounded great. As audio branding goes, it certainly presents a more formidable soundtrack than Hawthorn’s Yankee Doodle Dandy.

Full-on football

The Tackle

Of course it’s not about the music, it’s about the game and that got underway with a series of fast and ferocious skirmishes as players from both teams went at the ball. 

The scores were even early on but it was clear that Hawthorn were playing with a rabid intensity rarely seen outside religious insurgencies. Sustaining this ferocity was going to be the challenge. Which made early missed set shots from Liam Shiels and Jack Gunston frustrating. But we were getting the ball, and more importantly, stripping Sydney of it on the rare occasion they had it. 

Josh Kennedy of the Swans kicked the first goal of the match, but the Hawks responded quickly with Brad Hill running clear and getting the ball to Matt Suckling, who speared a pass to The Poo. His set shot from 50 was a beauty and the Hawks were level.

After Buddy marked strongly and goaled, the Swans were ahead again, despite Hawthorn’s ascendency around the contest. This was Buddy’s second mark, but as Matt Spangher had done when Franklin took his first mark, Brian Lake fell roughly into him ‘in the contest’, in this case driving his elbow into Franklin’s head. Buddy was playing well, but he wasn’t going to get many easy, let alone pain-free possessions.

Shaun Burgoyne was playing a beautiful game of poise and polish. When he took possession time seemed to stop for him. He occupied his own world. His pass to Breust on 50 was gorgeous. Breust’s monster kick from the 50 arc straight through the middle was even better.

The scores were even again, but then the Hawks took over. The final 10 minutes of the first quarter and the first 10 minutes of the second quarter was the decisive period of the game. During it Hawthorn applied relentless pressure on the Swans players and tackled like the All Blacks, basically pummelling the Swans into submission. In one sequence, four consecutive contests saw Sydney players try to take possession but get flung off the ball or ridden into the ground. Hawthorn was missing shots at goal, but this just meant but Sydney had to kick the ball in and this was a task they approached with all the assuredness of a male virgin confronted with a woman in lingerie.

The extreme pressure eventually led to goals. Instead of marking, Heath Grundy punched the ball into the arms of Brad Hill who kicked a simple goal. Jarryd Roughead hit Dan Hanneberry so hard it knocked the wind and also the will to live out of several Swans, and led directly to Gunston running in to kick an easy goal. This tackle epitomised the way the Hawks were approaching the game and would come to symbolise the match. Then Will Langford hurled himself into a pack and emerged to snap over his shoulder for our fourth unanswered goal and fifth of the quarter.

Quarter time: Hawthorn 5 5 35 v Sydney 2 3 15

The Burst

The second quarter began inauspiciously enough with Ben McGlynn kicking a goal for Sydney and Ben McEvoy and Sam Mitchell both missing set shots for Hawthorn.  At the six-minute mark Hawthorn’s lead was 16 points; nine minutes later it was 47 points. For repeat viewings, this was the period of the game that will rival Stuart Dew’s magic five minutes from the third quarter of the 2008 Grand Final.

Luke Breust kicked his second goal from a free kick; then Mitchell marked and passed to Hale who kicked accurately. From the next clearance Hodge handballed quickly to Langford who burst through half forward to kick another; then Roughead slammed it on his boot and Hodge marked in the goal square; a behind to The Poo gave Gary Rohan the kick-in which Hodge intercepted for another goal to give the Hawks a 47 point lead and trigger utter pandemonium in the stands. We kicked so many goals in such quick succession I nearly did my hammy standing up to cheer them.

When Adam Goodes kicked Sydney’s next goal, Bruce McAvaney in the Channel 7 commentary noted that this was the first goal of the game not to be kicked by a Hawthorn player, or someone who used to play for Hawthorn, as Sydney’s other goal kickers were Kennedy, Franklin and McGlynn. Franklin added another after a good mark, but then Cyril brilliantly intercepted a Tippet handball and passed it to Roughead for his first and a half-time lead of 42 points.

Half-time: Hawthorn 11 9 75 v Sydney 5 3 33

Hawthorn’s half-time score of 75 was more than any other team had kicked in total against Sydney in the previous 12 weeks – except of course for Hawthorn in Round 18. Had I known that at the time, I might have been more bullish in my half-time assessment of the game. But I was still tense.

The biggest Grand Final comeback is 44 points for Carlton in the famous 1970 Grand Final. It was difficult to see that Sydney would muster something of its equal, but they had Buddy, and we’d nearly blown a five goal lead in the final 10 minutes the previous week, and Sydney still had 60 minutes of football to bridge the gap if they were good enough. So Hawks fans, while confident and slightly dizzy, were still not wholly certain of victory.

The main argument against a Swans comeback in the second half was just how well the Hawks had played in the first half.  That had to count for something. Mitchell, Hodge, Lewis and Burgoyne were playing likes princes, but other lesser royals were also pivotal: Langford, Hill, Shiels, Stratton, Suckling and Spangher. McEvoy and Rioli more than justified their selection, while Breust, Gunston and of course the great Roughead were superb. It had been a complete team performance.

I joined my friend Martin, a Cats fan, in the Sir Bernard Cullinan Bar. He was quick to declare the match for the Hawks. One guy I pushed past on my way to the bar saw my ‘Premiers 2013’ cap and suggested I update the year. I may not have been wholly convinced as yet, but the non-partisan fans were already looking forward to next season.

The Kiss

If we can kick the first goal of the third quarter, I thought, we’re nearly there. Within minutes we had two: one to Roughead and one to Gunston, and the lead was 55 points! This was a goal glut. This was Hawthorn hedonism!

Two quick goals to the Swans brought us back to something like sobriety. The second was to Franklin who was playing a great game considering how seldom the ball was in his zone.

Cue the highlight reel: Lake takes a screamer over Tippett, Suckling snaps over his shoulder for a goal, Goodes misses a set shot, Hill passes to Roughead who kicks his third, then Langford, who has already kicked goal of the day twice, supersedes them with the best one yet: winning the ball from Josh Kennedy on the boundary line in the pocket, he kicked the ball low to keep it under Kennedy’s flailing attempt to smother, but drove it so hard into the ground that it bounced high and also eluded another Swan. If we were scoring goals like that, then the Fates were guiding the ball for us. As it went through I leapt to my feet with such mad exhilaration, I actually got a headrush and nearly fainted. I could not have been more aroused if Scarlett Johanssen, wearing nothing but a Hawthorn jumper, were to whisper the score into my ear.

And I wasn’t the only one feeling stimulated by the goal. Tangling with Buddy, Luke Hodge gave him a kiss on the cheek. In the most famous of all kisses it is Judas who betrays Christ by kissing him. In this one, it was Christ kissing Judas.

The kiss, of course, is a symbol of love, passion, congratulation, friendship and affability. It’s a greeting and a farewell, and perhaps in this case it was a bit of both. This Hodge-Franklin smooch joins the gallery of famous kisses: Judas kissing Christ, Auguste Rodin, Rene Magritte, the grafitti on the Berlin Wall of Roanld Reagan and Leonid Brezhnev, and of course the most famous smooch of all, Dermott Brereton and Billy Duckworth.

Magritte - this says more about Rene Magritte
than Hodgey & Buddy

How Rodin saw the Hodgey-Buddy kiss

With a 54 point three quarter time lead, I was also up for kissing just about anyone who strayed into my path, so Hodgey’s affectionate peck on Buddy is quite understandable.  Particularly as Tom Jones and Ed Sheeran had sung the Prince hit, 'Kiss' earlier: Hodgey was simply enacting their prophecy.

Dermie and Duckworth pucker up

Reagan and Brezhnev

Hodgey & Buddy: all is forgiven, but only because we're 9 goals up

Three quarter time: Hawthorn 16 11 107 v Sydney Swans 8 5 53

The Strip - “If Hawthorn win I’m getting naked”

In the first minute of the final quarter, Hodge got the ball out to Isaac Smith who passed to Luke Breust in the pocket. Breust’s elegant kick went straight through the middle to give the Hawks a 10-goal lead.

From here on it was a brown and gold celebration. Rioli was subbed-out and Taylor Duryea came on and gathered nine possessions in 15 minutes – more than several Swans players managed for the entire match. He was so effective he nearly played himself into Norm Smith contention. As did Ben Stratton who took a series of fine marks at half back.

Shaun Burgoyne bagged a couple of goals – the first from outside 50 after a graceful turn.

Duryea went on a five bounce run along the outer wing after which he was pushed, gifting a free kick downfield and goal number five for the big Rough!

Hodge hung about on the Members wing taking simple marks to repeated roars of “Ole!” from Hawks fans.

In my row speculation had begun about the winner of the Norm Smith medal winner. I thought Mitchell, another said Hodge, and someone else said Lewis,. Andrew next to me nominated Stratton while I also heard Langford. I thought they should quickly mint a few more so that everyone who deserved it could get one. Just as there should have been a seond Jock McHale medal for ‘Bolts’ – Brendan Bolton who coached for five weeks in place of Clarkson. Is it time they renamed that medal the Alastair Clrkson medal? Ot least give him a statue at Waverley.

The most pleasing aspect of the final quarter was that Hawthorn kept going and still outscored the Swans, kicking five goals to three – never letting up and not allowing Sydney any cheap consolation goals. Pretty much every player got a final quarter touch and a chance to take a bow as they did so. And each player rotated off the ground received a standing ovation as they ran towards the bench.

The only way this could have been better is if the final play had come off. With just 10 seconds on the clock, Burgoyne had the ball on the northern flank, looked up and saw Matt Spangher loose in the opposite pocket. As the ball sailed in Spangher’s direction, every Hawks fan rose in anticipation of to the perfect finale. A goal after the siren to The Spang might have provoked a ground invasion. Sadly the fates weren’t with us and Sydney managed to intervene before the bearded one could take it.

It was one of the most gratifying Grand Finals ever, and when the final siren rang with Matt Suckling about to gather a loose ball, I leapt to my feet and embraced Andrew next to me. I’ve met this guy twice in my life and on each occasion we’ve embraced in tears – I think there might be a bromance brewing. We’ve made a pact to meet up at the same seats next time the Hawks are in the big one.

Many commentators would described Hawthorn’s performance as ‘total football’ – in refernce to the Dutch football game-plan of the 70s in which every player can play every position. And while that is as true of this Hawthorn team as it could be of any Australian football team, this was more than just ‘total’ football;, it was ‘full-on’ football.

The Norm Smith medal was awarded to Luke Hodge – his second following the one he won in 2008. Watching the game live I thought Sam Mitchell or Hodge would win it. Watching it in replay I thought perhaps Jordan Lewis might have won it, but really, it was only ever out of those three. Between them, Hodge, Lewis and Mitchell received 28 of the 30 possible votes (with Gibson and Langford also receiving one each), so really, they should each have received one. Hodge probably got it as much for his smother against Port Adelaide the week previous as for anything he did this week. It is perhaps instructive that Roughead kicked 5 goals and didn't come into consideration. 

I like a woman who is true to her word. Heather McCartney, arrested for stripping in one of the corporate boxes after Saturday’s match, later told the Magistrates court, “I said if Hawthorn win I’m getting naked. And they won, and I got naked.” Well that seems perfectly reasonable to me. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve said exactly those words and then acted on it. And really, if ever there was an occasion that justified it, this was it: Back-to-Back Premiers. 21 goals. An emphatic 10-goal triumph. Revenge for 2012. Matt Spangher. All good reasons to celebrate. All good reasons to disrobe. In fact I’m shocked more people didn’t ‘get naked’ for Hawthorn. Getting your gear off and parading about not only a perfectly natural response to Hawthorn going back to back, it’s the only response.

This is Hawthorn hedonism.

Final scores: Hawthorn 21 11 137 d Sydney Swans 11 8 74.

Attendance: 99,454


What we learned: Sydney may enjoy a higher salary cap than any other team, they may have outlayed $2 million this year on their two key forwards alone, but they still lost the Grand Final by 10 goals. Clearly the salary cap is still too restrictive.

What we already knew: There’s never a frown with the gold and brown.

What we wonder: When the boys get together in 2039 to celebrate the 25^th anniversary of our back to back flags, as they did this year for the 1988-89 triumph - will Buddy have to leave half way through the night? Or will he just have to shout the drinks?

What we can continue to take satisfaction from: Forget the Kennett curse – it is worth noting that in each of our past five premierships, 1989, 1991, 2008, 2013 and 2014 – we’ve defeated Geelong at some stage in the Finals series or in the Grand Final itself.

The author celebrates!

Preliminary Final - Hawthorn v Port Adelaide

Saturday 20 September 2014, MCG

Hawthorn Health Warning

A healthy heart - keep away from Hawthorn Prelim Finals

The Heart Foundation and other leading medical bodies all agree that the major risk factors for heart attack or coronary heart disease are:

- Smoking

- High blood pressure

- High blood cholesterol

- Diabetes

- Obesity

- Lack of exercise

- Stress

- Use of stimulant drugs

- Mental health issues

That makes nine, but to round out the top ten I’d add to the list, ‘following the Hawks in a Preliminary Final’.

This is the fourth successive Preliminary Final featuring Hawthorn that has been decided by less than a goal. Plus there were two previous ones in 1974 (lost to North by 5 points) and 1987 (defeated Melbourne by 2 points). And while the Hawks have emerged as winners in the past three of these games, the fans have acquired one or more of the above risk factors along the way. Even non-smoking, svelte, physically active, healthy people with a sound diet who manage to watch the games with calm equanimity have by now been driven using illicit stimulants of one sort or another, so there’s no escaping the dangers.

It is these Preliminary Finals that explain why health care fund Bupa is one of Hawthorn’s major sponsors – they recognise Hawks fans as their main customer demographic.

Scotland No, Hawthorn Yes

How did it come about this time? Most football pundits predicted that this would be a close game; that of the two Preliminary finals, this was the one in which it was hardest to pick a winner. Only the Scottish independence vote was tipped to be closer. And just as the ‘No’ vote in Scotland took a comfortable lead once the excitement died down and everyone saw reason rather than romance, the Hawks took a 29 point lead half way through the final quarter to prove their class and quell the excitable stirrings of the romantics who wanted fifth placed Port to prevail.

From this stage we should have enjoyed a reasonably relaxing run in to the big one. A five goal lead should have afforded us some calming, even life affirming moments, the chance to look forward with cheerful optimism to the Grand Final and perhaps eternal happiness, but instead we watched on in tense horror as Port stormed home, frantically texting people who could tell how much time was left…and it was always too much.  We wanted finality, Grand Finality, but the siren seemed an eternity away, an eternity filled with Angus Monfries, of all people, kicking goals.

When I watched the match back some 48 hours later (I couldn’t bring myself to face it any earlier), I still got tense even though I knew the outcome.

The lead up to the vote for Scottish independence may have been 500 years or so in the making, but it was mere blip compared to what Hawks fans had to endure waiting for the siren to sound as we clung to our slender lead. At least in the end we got a ‘Yes’ vote.

The future's so bright I gotta wear shades:
Oscar celebrates our advance to the Granny

The Hawthorn Life Cycle

The human life cycle is notable for the utter helplessness of the human being in its early years and then again in its dotage. In our first few years we are a feeble, mewling bundle writhing about in our own muck, unable to perform even the most perfunctory of tasks. We have to be fed, cleaned and put to bed. Then we flourish for a time, stand tall and become independent, perform noble deeds and achieve great feats, only to again hunch back into ourselves and revert to the same pathetic and mewling state of helplessness.

In this sense, Hawthorn’s performance in the Preliminary Final mirrored the human life cycle. In the first and final quarters we were helpless against Port’s irresistible force and incessant run; we couldn’t do anything for ourselves and if not for the umpires intervening to help us out, we might never have got going nor been able to hold on at the end.

For the first five minutes of the match we barely touched the ball, and the quarter was a blur of Port making space and setting up scoring opportunities. If not for the fact that Port sprayed shots like an unattended hose, and a brief period of calm when Rough and Langford marked and kicked set shots, the game might have been over at quarter time. We were fortunate with a 12-point deficit.

Even in the second quarter, it was only the umpires intervening that helped get us going. First Gunston was awarded a free kick in front of goal when the play had been somewhere on the wing. Then Duryea received a 50-metre penalty when the ball was knocked out of his hands after he’d taken a mark. Both decisions were technically correct, but both could very easily not have been paid.

As if the umpires had awoken us to the task at hand, our third goal for the quarter was a classic. Shiels, Lewis, Roughead, Suckling and Hill featured in a series of slick handballs before Hill kicked to Hale, who marked, turned and handballed back to Suckling who had continued running on and kicked a lovely goal from 40 metres out.

Two more goals to Roughead and one to Smith gave us an 11-point half-time lead and half-time drinks in the Tower 6 bar were convivial and relaxed.

Jordan Lewis was injured in the first minute of the third quarter, so hardly ideal, but after Breust set up a Hodge goal, Lewis was back in the middle feeding out a handball to Rough who ran on and banged through a beauty from 50 to give us a 4 goal lead We maintained this lead for to the end of the quarter after Rough soccered through his sixth for the match right on the siren.

It wasn’t a match winning lead, but by the time Smith and Gunston goaled to extend our lead to five goals half way through the quarter, we were watching on with a mounting sense of excitement at the prospect of another grand final the following week.

I can’t bring myself to describe the rush of Port Adelaide goals that ensued, suffice to say that two match saving acts; one form Luke Hodge to smother a Brett Ebert kick, and another from Brian Lake to intercept a … kick when there was less than 30 seconds to go have gotten us into the Grand Final.

For the second year in a row I haven’t heard the siren to end the Preliminary Final, but I can’t wait for the one to start the grand final next week against Sydney.

Go Hawks!

Final scores: Hawthorn 15 7 97 d Port Adelaide 13 16 94

Attendance: 74, 856

Notable Hawks: Jarryd Roughead, Luke Hodge, Will Langford, Liam Shiels, Jordan Lewis, Brad Hill, Sam Mitchell, Taylor Duryea, Shaun Burgoyne, Josh Gibson

What we learned: No one thought Matt Priddis from West Coast would win the Brownlow medal – not even Channel 7 who didn’t have a highlights package ready to go.  An hour later they still hadn’t put one together. Perhaps there aren’t any Priddis highlights.

Nor it seems did people believe it even as it was happening. After round 20 with Priddis on 24 votes and Gary Ablett on 22 votes, a Viewers poll predicting the winner still had Ablett as favourite, even though, as was widely known to anyone watching the count, he didn’t play any further games and was therefore unable to overtake Priddis.

Even with one round to go, Travis Boak received 60% of the Viewers poll as the likely winner, significantly higher than Priddis, even though Boak could not actually beat Priddis at this stage, a tie being the best he could hope for.

Priddis’ humility upon winning has been roundly praised, but perhaps it is humility borne of he realisation that until the day Sam Mitchell or Luke Hodge win the medal, then no one else can be considered a worthy winner.

What we already knew: Football and fashion don’t mix, aside from the ever-stylish brown and gold vertical stripes that is. Why does anyone think that an ex-footballer, even one as dashing and handsome as former Western Bulldog, Daniel Giansiracusa, or Gia as we know him, can be in any way interesting or illuminating telling the WAGs how stunning they look and asking them who they’re dressed by. As if names like Alannah Hill, Juli Grbac or Jacob Luppino will mean anything to the interviewer, let alone the vast majority of viewers.

The real fashion statement at the Brownlow was from winner, Matt Priddis, who might single-handedly bring back the 80s spiral perm. 

The spiral perm returns

What we wonder: How does Geoffrey Edelston and whoever his current squeeze is score an invitation to the Brownlow medal?  Every year! Former winners are invited and that is fair enough, it’s the only place we get to see Johnny Platten these days, but does this also extend to former club presidents – even disgraced ones? 

What we fear: Australia’s terrorist threat has been increased to high and there’s talk of an imminent terrorist attack, but in truth I’m much more fearful of Sydney’s midfield than I am of ISIL. 

Qualifying Final - Hawthorn v Geelong

MCG, Friday 5 September 2014

Mission Accomplished?

Chris Scott's Round 22 press conference

On 1 May 2003 George W Bush stood aboard the aircraft carrier USS Abraham Lincoln with military personnel arrayed around him and a large ‘Mission Accomplished’ banner behind him, and announced the end of major combat operations in Iraq. Of course this was simply a precursor to the escalated insurgency and increased guerrilla activity in a war that raged on for another 10 years or so, with after effects that continue to reverberate today.

When Hawthorn defeated Geelong in Round 22, coming from a 33 point deficit at half time to kick 10 unanswered goals and roll over the Cats by 22 points, Geelong coach Chris Scott sat smirking in the post-match press conference and announced that it was ‘mission accomplished’ for Geelong and ‘a step forward in our preparation’.  It’s hard to know whether he was just being smug and arrogant, attempting to psych out Hawthorn ahead of our Qualifying Final clash, or whether he was having a bit of a George W Bush moment and was completely misled and deluded.  Probably all of the above.

While it was refreshing to hear a coach react in a reasonably positive light after a loss, it was strange that a team which had so meekly given up its advantage was being so lauded, as if a 10 goal turnaround was part of some tactical master plan and that Hawthorn had unwittingly fallen into their dastardly trap.

  

The sequel

Here we were then, just two weeks later, to witness the sequel. In movies, the sequel is never as good as the original, with the possible exception of Toy Story II, so I was a little nervous about the outcome this time around. Particularly as Geelong were able to recall Steve Johnson to their dramatis personae after he missed the previous game due to injury. The Hawks meanwhile were bringing back rested players Luke Hodge, Ben Stratton and Brad Hill.

The MCC Members section where I was seated was packed as you’d expect for another big match between Hawthorn and Geelong, but strangely there were large vacant sections on Level 4 at both ends of the ground. Did the footy public have a dose of Hawthorn-Geelongfatigue? Or was it more a case that with all the media attention focused on Richmond’s run to the finals, including interviews with pretty anyone who has ever played or barracked for the Tiges, as well as footage of buses and planes setting off for Adelaide with passengers singing ‘We’re from Tigerland…’, that the footy public simply weren’t aware that Hawthorn and Geelong were even in the finals? Or had forgotten. Perhaps people just preferred to stay at home and look up Jennifer Lawrence’s nude selfies online. Having just portrayed Mystique in X-Men, there was very little mystique about her anymore. Although she is less blue than I imagined.  

Jennifer Lawrence nude selfie - she looks like a Cats fan with body paint

 My apprehension about the game seemed well-founded as it got underway and Geelong controlled the ball early with Joel Selwood and Jimmy Bartel kicking the only two goals in the first 15 minutes. On the other hand, this is more or less how the previous game began, so perhaps this match was indeed following the Hollywood sequel model of simply repeating the same plotline with a few variations. Once Roughead took the ball from a stoppage and banged through our first goal, things began to look up. By the time Lewis and the Poo added further goals, we were in front at quarter time and looking handsome.

The second quarter followed more or less the same pattern as the first, with Geelong dominating early and then Hawthorn hitting back. Joel Selwood seemed unstoppable; Bartel took a screamer and converted, and then Hawkins goaled. By this stage those Hawthorn fans still booing Bartel after his ‘dive’ a few weeks previous were beginning to question the soundness of this strategy. Firstly it’s hard to stay angry with Bartel, but more importantly, we didn’t need to give him any extra reason to turn it on. Happily the low-fi hum was less and less evident with his every touch.  

When Hawthorn’s turn came to dominate, Isaac Smith, the Poo and Gunston scored, and we held a comfy buffer heading into half-time. Until, that is, Murdoch and Walker kicked late goals for the Cats to level scores at 6.5 each for half time.  The late goals were disappointing, but I took some solace from the fact that three weeks previous we were 22 points behind at half-time, and still won. This time we were at least level, so we were arguably in a far superior position.

The dead die hard

The very first kick of the third quarter was a free to Sam Mitchell in the centre, with which he calmly found David Hale. Hale’s kick, the seond of the quarter, was a goal. This was more like it. Our advantage restored we began again to dominate and the familiar plotline of a few weeks previous looked like it might play out with the Hawks running away with it. The only thing was, despite our general superiority, we weren’t scoring. Worse, Geelong did. Selwood ran onto a long kick and bounced through his third goal. Then Tom Hawkins was awarded a free kick that was arguably more of an ethical crime than that commited by the hackers who raided the cloud for photos of nude celebrities.  

This outrage sparked heated debate in the part of the grandstand where I was seated, coming on top of several Selwood ‘too high’ free kicks. The Hawks fan behind me calling Selwood ‘the turtle’ was in dispute with a Cats fan nearby whose only riposte was ‘tackle him round the waist then’, which of course is to deny the reality that the umpires would still award him a free for too high once he ducked. The woman next to me was gleeful with spite when Hawkins was awarded the free kick.

As if the players were as affronted as we were, the Hawks snapped into action. Hodge marked on the boundary line next to the point post and guided it through, Gunston ran through a pack and slotted one on the run, then followed up with a mark and goal from 25 metres out.

When Roughead was awarded a free kick 20 meters from goal, it gave Geelong fans the chance to whinge in turn, which they duly did. The free kick was doubtful, but the woman next to me held me personally responsible for the decision. Unlike Hawkins, however, Roughead did the decent thing and missed. Not that this stopped the woman from shouting at me.  I suggested she focus on her team and the game which was still close and try to take some pleasure in the fact that Geelong had kicked a goal with their dodgy free kick, whereas we‘d only managed a behind.

Our 14 point three quarter time lead was useful, but we’d dominated the play for much of the third quarter and couldn’t deliver the knockout blow. ‘The dead die hard’ begins Samuel Beckett’s posthumously published story, Echo’s Bones’, ‘they are trespassers on the beyond’ - a statement that might equally apply to Geelong, who weren’t succumbing as we’d have liked. This was largely due to Joel Selwood who was playing a dominant game. Sam Mitchell, however, was becoming an even greater influence and drawing other players into the game. Brad Hill in particular was playing a lively and enterprising game, as was Brad Sewell.

Mission Accomplished

Luke Breust kicked a trademark low goal a few minutes into the final quarter to give us some early confidence and a bit of breathing space, and we held this lead until Blicavs responded for the Cats. He’s a good player Blicavs; as hard to match up on as his name is to pronounce.

Nearly 20 minutes in and the Hawks’ increasing dominance started to show on the scoreboard and in our gloating. The woman next to me might have become deafened as Rough slotted a set shot from the boundary line. If not, she certainly heard all about Jordan Lewis’ two goals that followed. She was no longer next to me by the time Will Langford snapped another goal just before the siren, but I bet she still heard our roar as she made her way out of the ground.

The 36 point margin was the biggest between these teams since that glorious day in 2008 when we won the Grand Final by 26 points. Chris Scott’s sense of a mission accomplished proved to be as accurate as George W Bush’s. It may not have been the end of our combat operations, but at least we knocked Geelong out of our way.

Final scores: Hawthorn 15 14 104 d Geelong 10 8 68

Attendance: 74,753

Notable Hawks: Sam Mitchell, Shaun Burgoyne, Brad Hill, Brian Lake , Isaac Smith, Grant Birchall, Josh Gibson, David Hale, Liam Shiels, Luke Hodge

What we learned: The AFL announced that the entertainment at the Grand final would feature Tom Jones, Ed Sheeran and Olivia Newton-John. Tom’s signature tune, ‘What’s New Pussycat’ won’t have the same resonance without the Cats out there, but at least Ed will be able to dedicate ‘The A team’ to our Hawthorn boys.  As for Olivia, last time she performed at theGrand Final was 1986 when Hawthorn defeated Carlton, so that’s one good omen. And her set list reads like a veritable ode to Hawthorn: Hopelessly Devoted to You, I Love You, I Honestly Love You, Let’s Get Physical, and of course, Xanadu.  

We also learned that it's now okay to charge someone off the ball and headbutt them. Or if you do get reported, just call on Joel Selwood as your character witness. North Melbourne's Boomer Harvey was initially suspended for one week for initiating contact involving a head clash with Geelong's Joel Selwood in theor semi-final encounter. But one word from Joel, the umpire whisperer, and suddenly Boomer has been cleared to play in the Preliminary Final against Sydney. The most amazing thing from this incident is that despite a genuine head high clash, Selwood din't get a free kick!

What we already knew: Hawthorn are gangstas. In the week following this match I saw Kanye West perform at Rod Laver Arena, and while most of the crowd were straining to see if they could catch a glimpse of wife, Kim Kardashian, I only had to look two rows behind me to see the much more glamorous crew of Jack Gunston, Grant Birchall and Jordan Lewis seated in a private box with other Hawthorn identities. What gangstas! Hodgey’s posse as Kanye might say. Or more likely Hodgey’s bitches. I’m no Kardashian fan necessarily, but I reckon Kim would dish out a decent hip and shoulder.  

Round 23 - Collingwood v Hawthorn

Friday 29 August 2014*, MCG

* My apologies for the delay in this post. I was preparing for a talk and didn't quite get around to finishing this one - Qualifying final post coming soon!

Hawthorn - Guardians of the Galaxy

In the build up to our final game of the home and away season against Collingwood, the prevailing view was that the match was meaningless: from a football perspective that is, rather than an existential one, although I’d be inclined to question whether there’s a difference. 

Regardless of the result we were likely to end up with the same outcome, at least with respect to the finals. Kind of like the forthcoming Victorian election really, no matter who wins the end result will be the same. And it was true to a certain point: a Hawthorn win meant we would in all likelihood finish second and play Geelong in the first week of the finals. If Hawthorn were to lose, we would in all likelihood finish third and play Geelong in the first week of the finals.

But this is to ignore the other half of the equation: if Collingwood were to win, they might make the finals - assuming Richmond were to be defeated by the Swans, whereas if Collingwood were to lose, they would definitely miss out on the finals. So this gave Hawthorn plenty to play for. It’s not every week you get the chance to kill Collingwood’s finals chances.

Of course in predicting the outcome of this match you have to take into account Collingwood’s recent catastrophic run of injuries, which saw not only most of their best players missing, with the exception of Scott Pendlebury, but most of their playing list missing. There was some chance Hawthorn might have to lend them a couple of players, other than Clinton Young that is; we’d lent him to them the year before.

Hawthorn was missing players too. Despite our reported position of not resting players ahead of the finals; Luke Hodge, Ben Stratton, Matthew Suckling and Brad Hill all found themselves out of the team with various complaints and types of soreness - that’s half of our back six plus our main runner, so not insignificant exclusions.

Even so, there was very little realistic chance that an undermanned Collingwood would defeat Hawthorn on the eve of the finals, a position borne out by a disappointing crowd of 48,973 - this for a Friday night Collingwood home game they needed to win to make the finals. Perhaps the injury curse was sweeping through their membership ranks as well as the playing list.   

Guardians

The number one movie in the week of this match was the latest Marvel movie, Guardians of the Galaxy. The film tells the story of a group of disparate warriors who come together to protect the galaxy against threat of destruction by the evil Ronan the Accuser.  The group become known as the Guardians of the Galaxy and in their noble quest, the Guardians are perhaps fulfilling a role not that dissimilar to Hawthorn’s. Keeping Collingwood out of the finals surely equates to saving the galaxy from destruction, or am I overstating it?  

Extending the analogy, the guardians themselves bear similarities to some of the participants in this match. Quill the Star Lord is the captain, so most obviously equates to stand-in skipper Jordan Lewis, as long aswe overlook the bald spot; Gamorra, a deadly assassin with a sense of righteousness is Gibbo, if only because she’s the best looking of the guardians, despite having green skin and purple hair; Groot - a tall, tree-like humanoid whose height gives him a Ceglar-like appearance; Rocket, a genetically engineered raccoon who is a dynamic little fighting machine is clearly the  Poo; while Drax a vicious thug who starts out working against the guardians but eventually joins them can only be Brian Lake. The evil Ronan the accuser meanwhile, must therefore be Collingwood captain Scott Pendlebury.

Guardians of the Galaxy - that's Poo in the middle

The Eternal Question - Ball, Hodge or Judd?

I met up with my friend Julian, a Collingwood fan, and we took our seats in a largely vacant members’ section.  Julian wasn’t particularly optimistic about the game, but then neither was the cheer squad, whose banner farewelled Luke Ball, despite the fact that a win might have seen him playing next week.

With Luke Ball’s retirement, Julian and I were able to take one last chance to indulge in the 12 year long conversation comparing the three top picks from that famous 2001 draft and wonder for the umpteenth time who has had the better career: Ball, Judd or Hodge? Naturally I plumped for Hodge, two fewer Brownlows than Judd, sure, but both won Norm Smith medals while Hodge has one more premiership medal. Ball on the other hand did get a premiership medal with Collingwood in 2010, but as my friend Jason once observed, Ross Lyon’s decision to leave Ball on the bench in the second half of the 2009 Grand Final possibly cost St Kilda two premierships: the 2009 one plus 2010, after he left St Kilda for Collingwood and was instrumental in them defeating the Saints. Probably not the legacy he wanted, but a great player nonetheless.

The game? Well it was largely forgettable. Collingwood came out gallantly and held Hawthorn goal-less for the majority of the first quarter, while kicking the first couple themselves. So in this sense it followed a similar trajectory to a Marvel movie with the bad guys seemingly taking the early advantage. Jack Gunston kicking our first goal was the first sign that there was life yet in the good guys.    

As it turned out it took a little more time than one might have expected for Hawthorn to gain the upper hand in this match. The scores were still level as we entered time-on in the second quarter at four goals apiece. Worryingly at this point, three of Collingwood’s four goals had been kicked on Ryan Schoenmakers, including two to Corey Gault playing his first AFL game. This didn’t bode well for Schoenmakers’ chances of playing finals. 

Steele Sidebottom was playing an outstanding game for Collingwood. I’ve always thought Sidebottom was a good player, and as my friend John says, with a name like Steele Sidebottom he was either going to be a great footballer or a male porn star. 

Despite Collingwood’s and Sidebottom’s best efforts, the Hawks exerted some of their special powers and stole a late lead with two goals to Roughead, one to Gunston and one to Ceglar all in the final few minutes before half-time. A 26 point lead at half-time was likely to be sufficient, so I enjoyed my half-time drink in the Hugh Trumble bar more than Julian.   

At this stage in the movie the Guardians were still in trouble, so it could be that the Hawks are a superior force, or that our opponent Collingwood was weaker than Ronan and his evil army.

For Collingwood to win from here was going to take a comeback even more unexpected and triumphant than Kate Bush, who took to the London stage during the week for the first time in 35 years.  

When Liam Shiels won the first clearance and kicked it directly to Jordan Lewis, who goaled, any chance of a comeback was pretty much over. A minute later Rough took a strong mark and also converted, and the fat lady, or better yet, Kate Bush, started to sing.

And the rout hadn’t even begun yet.

David Hale kicked a goal on the threee quarter time siren. Then four goals in the opening six minutes of the final quarter took the leadout to nearly 70 points from where it barely budged. 

In the end Gunston kicked 5, Rough 4, Hale and the Poo 2 each. As well as this quartet, Lewis, Gibson, Burgoyne, Smith, Mitchell and Birchall were all outstanding. Saving the galaxy proved less problematic than you might think, but importantly for our guardians, they tuned up nicely for even more important battles – the finals! 

Final scores: Hawthorn 18 13 121 d Collingwood 8 8 56

Attendance: 48,973

Ladder position: 2nd

What we learned: At the post match press conference, one journalist posited the theory that Jack Gunston must be going to Sydney next year because like Buddy in 2013, he spent a fair bit of time up the ground getting kicks on the wing and half back line. As far as whacko conspiracy theories go, it was right up there with the fake moon landing. Clearly the journo in question hadn’t registered Gunston’s 5 goals, or the fact that he plays that way every week. Clarko, I thought, showed admirable restraint in simply saying that he didn’t understand the question. He could have been excused for morphing into Mick Malthouse and letting the journo know exactly what he thought of the comment, and I’m almost sorry he didn’t. It was nealy as daft as Mike Sheahan’s comments in Grand Final week last season that Clarkson would be coaching West coast this season. 

What we already knew: Kate didn’t play ‘Wuthering Heights’ in her comeback concert, and this match didn’t scale them either, but in saying that, Hawthorn did win convincingly, knocked Collingwood out of finals contention, and kicked off Spring Fashion week nicely with the ever stylish brown and gold verticals.