Gotta keep it clean

Round 23, 2021
St Kilda 3.0, 6.3, 10.5, 17.5 (107)
Fremantle 1.4, 3.5, 4.8, 6.13 (49)
Crowd: 3,082 at Blundstone Arena, Sunday, August 22nd at 12.15pm


Some things, if allowed, are instantly recognisable and familiar even this far into a pandemic. The late August sun on show, and sitting that much higher. The breeze is that much more accommodating. As 2021 developed into a worthy sequel to 2020 (off the field), the ability of the competition to retain its structure within the calendar year shouldn’t be underestimated. Bob Murphy’s Rhythm of the Season was back. The change in season again aligns with the season’s turn towards history being made, or to a relaxed Spring. Spring nonetheless.

And thus, a sunny afternoon game (in natural daylight!) to finish things off for 2021. We’ve had a bunch of these – Peter Everitt’s 7.7 in 1996 against the Crows on the eve of a much bigger final game of the year for both teams; a loss to the Cats in 2003 on the eve of the rivalry becoming real; a tight win in Fraser’s (first) last game in 2007 at the MCG after several years of challenging; a wet sail win over Carlton in 2012 to cap off an oft-forgotten positive Scott Watters season, and in what was Brett Ratten’s last game at the Blues; the Watters Phase II team smothering a Grand Final-bound Fremantle in Kosi, Blake and Milne’s last game; Roo kicking nine against the Lions in a high-scoring game at the end of 2016 – perhaps the apex of the Richo era, when all of our young kids were untradeable and Roo did in fact appear to be ageless – and a sunny Saturday afternoon in Sydney in 2019 that ended a strange, exhausting year that capped off an era, a decade and indeed nearly a century since the last pandemic.

Like several of those seasons, finals had only become realistically out of reach a week or two before the final game (in 2007, it was the night before). In these instances, the last game of the season doesn’t quite feel attached to the year in the same way. It is isolated in a way that doesn’t apply to any part of a meandering, muddling low-finish season. It lives in smouldering embers and dirt of the hopes and ambitions of a live season.

In a strange way, it’s a victory lap of the year (although by no means a casual ride down the Champs-Élysées). It’s a day to sit back and see the bits and pieces that made up the year – for better or worse – and enjoy the better parts, and know that the rest is pretty harmless, and can’t quite hurt you again in the same way, that they belong to the past now. Really, it’s an opportunity to just to watch the Saints run around. There’s nothing to really play for except whatever you’re feeling in the moment, and spontaneity has been rare lately.

***

After an all-timer 24 (27ish?) hours that rivalled the 1987 last round, trust the Bizarro Rivalry that is shared by St Kilda and Fremantle to ruin the AFL’s carefully-laid fixture plan to keep the entire round interesting. (One for the off-season is to find and re-upload our in-depth looks at the novelty freakshow that is The Bizarro Rivalry; they were lost in The Great RWB Server Calamity of 2021). We looked “on”, while the team whose season was on the line was simply not playing like a team whose season was on the line. Of the first 8.2 we kicked, 7.2 came from defence, somewhere between Freo cbf and us deciding to have another decent week when it suited, and probably not when it was expected (and certainly not when it was needed).

In an immediate sense, what we ended up getting was a strange cross between that last round of 2013 – a 71-point win over the Dockers’ thirds – and the record-setting 18th-defeated-2nd win later in 2014 by the same 58 points we won by on Sunday.

That means some of the better things we were used to seeing this year probably happened. Steele leading all comers for possessions, despite being consistently frustrated by Banfield; Sinclair and his mullet zipping around off half-back; Ben Long putting a sweetly-timed heavy hit on Brayshaw; Rowan Marshall putting in a gargantuan performance (and showing us what might have been if both he and Paddy were fully fit all year); Zak Jones looking for people to try and run around; Brad Crouch perhaps quietly accumulating big numbers; and Jack Higgins working hard up the ground and close to goal.

Of course, the urgency isn’t quite there, and our circumstances and Freo’s attitude opened the door to the slightly-different-timeline novelty happenings that also get offered by two teams just running around and having a kick. Bytel kicked his first two career goals; Zak Jones got called Zak Smith, Tim Membrey got called Stewart; Dan Hannebery played; Wilkie touched a goal with his head; Rowan Marshall handballed it into some guy’s nuts.

***

I knew saying anything about Freo “not playing like a team playing for finals” would tempt fate, and as soon as I put it into the group chat in the shadows of half-time, the umpire decided to bypass the constant coaching of players and just went straight to paying a 50 against Crouch in the shadows of half time. Ah, here we go. This is where the Bizarro Rivalry will really come to the fore – Freo will come back to add to the amazing round and add to our 2020s list of decent margins given up. Peter Carey, Longmuir after the siren, Sirengate, 2013, etc. But like the umpire, they just cbf.

Final games of the year can also be, just quietly, a chance to look forward. A last chance to grab onto something, however small to take into the off-season. Teasingly (in the bullying sense), maybe tauntingly, the AFL used its first opportunity since the handing down of the Carter Report to send a Saints home game straight to Tasmania, hoping to push the joint venture and relocation options before Peter Gutwein forces through the 19th team option early next year.

It’s not Roo’s six goals in Stewart Loewe’s final game in the last round of 2002 (or Spider’s 7.7), but Cooper Sharman minted his transformation from Novelty Name Guy out of the mid-season draft to Bob and Andy and general SEN talkback areas. He kicked 4.1 via high marks, smart leads, strong hands, and played a big presence up the ground, too, capably handling the responsibility of being the key tall target and linkman up forward in Max’s absence.

Much like Max’s first 20 minutes against the Cats, this was a tall forward performance that combined an understanding of the value of constantly being on the move, and an athletic ability to find space on an opponent, time runs, time leaps, and simply hold onto marks. He kicked goals from set shots, from marks on the lead and contested, and at a light gallop in space heading towards the sticks. While he’s a fourth gamer and looks like he’s wearing a retail version of the jumper one size too big, he is 21 and his experience working against mature bodies shows. 

The commentators noted Higgins worked from half-back up the goal mouth for the opener, but Sharman had done the same and was the one who got his hands on the ball in the forward pocket at the end of the run, and place a well-weighted kick from the pocket to Higgins. Sharman’s quick hand-to-foot movements around the ground looked slick and more naturally dynamic in a way we’re still not quite used to.

***

St Kilda’s presence alone throughout a closeish-to-normal season (in its format) mattered. The rhythm of a week, framed by footy – the Monday wash-up, mid-week surmising, the return of Thursday night teams, the anticipation of a Friday. St Kilda matches were a singular event that brought us together, whether it was the occasional game – yes, we actually were able to go to some this year – or the group chat while we watched on TV (Rory, I found a setting on my Samsung that eliminates any weird frame rate mismatch for laptop-via HDMI connections!). And, join the dots between those singular weekly events, a narrative emerges, even one that appears to judder in the same way that most of us have gone in and out of lockdown.

There might not be the same sense of achievement that last year brought, and it’s not redemption in any way, nor a celebration but there is nonetheless a burden easing. Maybe a small sense of achievement. During a pandemic, or outside of a pandemic, the season is long. As supporters, we have done the time, and just getting through right now is worth something.

Running out

Round 22, 2021
Geelong Cats 2.0, 6.2, 10.5, 13.7 (85)
St Kilda
5.1, 7.2, 10.3, 11.5 (71)
Crowd: Zero at Kardinia Park, Saturday, August 14th at 4.35pm


St Kilda’s 2021 season appeared to expire multiple times via all sorts of causes since a shoddy outing in Round 2 against the Demons, but the last rites were given by a one-two Kardinia Park punch.

When Mason Wood barrelled through our fifth goal against the Tigers in the Friday night rain at the MCG, I immediately turned to Matt and said “it’s a story if we lose”. It was our first game off the bye and after a 36-0 lead was given up to the Crows in Cairns, prompting all sorts of soul-searching inside the club and a rightful freak-out among the supporter base.

Somehow*, we went on with it at the MCG (*we didn’t know Richmond was plateauing at the time). We’ve made a habit of pissing away big leads – North (31 points) and Freo (37 points) last year, and a narrow escape against the Dogs after leading by 22 nearly 15 minutes into the last quarter of an Elimination Final. This year, that Richmond win was sandwiched between the Adelaide calamity in Cairns and a nearly more horrific calamity at the MCG against Collingwood.

Somehow, the five-goal-to-nothing start given up on Saturday evening is not the story coming out of the game. There was a lot more inevitability in this. Unlike those losses in previous seasons this was to a much more highly-fancied opponent who we knew weren’t going to just roll over with a whole lot more the line than ourselves.

The guy who’d dominated the last time we played the Cats but kicked 1.5 and looked broken for weeks was now dominating again, and in a way that was much more dangerous. He’d kicked 2.1 by the time we kicked 5.1 to 0.0, with a hand in every goal chain. Max was on the move. He wasn’t getting caught under it (it must be said, Jack Henry was doing a great job body-on-body considering he was giving away 12 centimetres) but who’s gonna stop Max once he gets some space or a run-up? Everything was sticking. This was the best footy we’d played. Pressure was good. All five goals were from turnovers and the ball movement was measured and fluid. Steele had seven touches in seven minutes and ten seconds of play. Sharman slotted the set shot from a tight angle.

Just as the camera cut to Max King moving awkwardly on the boundary, D-Mac was paid a free-kick against at half-back, in which the only alternative was for him to disappear completely, and then ex-Saint/one-time-Messiah-to-be Rhys glided across the pack from the resulting entry and kicked their first. The St Kilda fix was in. I harped on about the Cats last time. There’s a lot of grievance flying around at Red, White and Black’s Brunswick West HQ. Our best team ever got their best team ever, and we still can’t even have our best player out there on a day in which our season is supposed to die in an awkward time slot via a Kayo feed and HDMI cord.

***

Perhaps we were in for another strange week for contenders after the previous Round, as we could see Carlton skip out to an early lead over the Power on the bottom-right scorebug? Nah. Jason Dunstall uttered the famous words, “He’s on fire. He is on fire, Callum Wilkie”, but he was busy for a reason and the Cats were already shifting things. To a man, their physical presence in every contest is remarkable. Their list, recruiting and player development has suited their game style incredibly well; just like 361 days ago, when we sat second on the ladder and met them in fifth, there was not much chance we were able to go with them.

Bringing back memories of Hawkins’ poster in the 2009 Grand Final (grievance, but understandable) and the 2010 Qualifying Final (grievance; although we won, and there was a video uploaded to YouTube – since taken down – that detailed several minutes of favourable decisions to the Cats), after the D-Mac decision there were multiple occasions that would have had anyone reasonably shitty about the umpiring and St Kilda history generally. Dangerfield threw the ball just so, so blatantly. Ratugolea ran off with the footy out of the middle after a free was paid our way with no 50-metre penalty given, Menegola was given a touch-and-go decision on the goal line. Max King took a mark in the third quarter in the forward pocket and Blicavs turfed the ball in frustration, and as it trickled away and as Saints players protested, the umpire paused briefly and offered “I didn’t see it”, which is what coaches say in the post-match presser when they can’t be fucked commenting on something shitty one of their players did.

Like I do every time I bring up umpiring in a game (thank you for grounding me in the moment, St Julio), it is also worth noting the comprehensive way the ball lived in their half from the time of their first goal. Our midfielders just weren’t getting the ball, and when we did, we either got Sinclair setting up Higgins with a perfectly weighted forward 50 entry, or Sinclair setting Membrey with a perfectly weighted forward 50 entry, only for the Vice Captain, on his own and in space, to drop it. Hill gave up two shots at goal, including turning over Jack Steele’s mark going back with the flight. At the end of the day, 32 inside 50s will win you close to zero games.

Hawkins was angry and contest by contest was more of a presence from borderline fresh airing it, and by the end was giving off goals and concussing Darragh Joyce (of course he didn’t get suspended) Cameron was taking marks in the forward line and up on the wing. Jack Steele had 20 touches with 11 minutes and 20 seconds left in the second quarter. This whole result was 0% his fault by the way, but more as a reflection go the Cats flexing their top four muscle, he had only (“only”) 21 at half-time, and 30 by game’s end. In the automated app push notification that comes with the Dare Sainter of the Round result, he was referred to as “Captain Commendable”.

Dangerfield might not have necessarily wanted it more than Steele or anyone else, but he did a better job at showing it. This became a rare game in an era defined by systems that had its trajectory changed by repeated individual efforts of a single player who willed themselves across different parts of field. He could do it all on the ground and in the air, and he came up with match-sealing move.

***

By the end, decent moments were few and far between. We had them for 26 minutes, they had us for a bit more than three quarters. This is what the team is. It’s not just the side that was smashed several times over early in the season (depriving us of a slightly more interesting last week of the year), nor the side that kicked itself out of games against flag fancies, nor the side that pulled out wins against flag fancies. It’s the side that did all of those things, whiplashing between them week to week, quarter to quarter, minute to minute.

Remembering that Cooper on a couple of occasions presented with the second effort sprint high up on the wing for the run-past, reflects the mindset of a supporter whose team is done for the year and is looking to the future. Cooper is somewhere between Ryan Gamble and Spencer White for hype, physical build and an oversized St Kilda jumper. In the best and most exciting possible way, of course. Yet, the slightly too excited yelp when he casually bobbed up near goal and nailed the set shot to keep our season going reminded me that the forever competitive part of my supporter’s heart still wanted something from this.

With just over six minutes left, Fox Footy cut to the boundary level camera as St Kilda worked its way forward and Dan Butler got caught up in a tackle. At that moment, there was just a faint tweak that something actually was on the line. That yes, I do want something to come of this year after almost four months of being indifferent about our chances at scraping into the eight, and that if only a few moments had turned out differently-

Every time I think I’m out…

Round 21, 2021
St Kilda 5.0, 8.2, 12.4, 14.9 (93)
Sydney 4.1, 5.2, 8.4, 10.4 (64)
Crowd: Zero at Docklands, Saturday, August 7th at 7.40PM AEST

This one definitely had the feeling of the Who Cares Cup. Sydney was coming off 5 wins on the trot; being one of the form sides of the competition. They’ve clipped all of the Cats, Dogs, Lions and came within 9 points of the fast-starting Dees earlier in the year. Their rep has surged at a rate of knots, to the point where teams entrenched in the top 4 were having to look over their shoulders. 

In the other corner, the Saints injury list had maintained a plumpness – no Doug or Latte for this one. And news had filtered through that Paddy might be done for the year.

The Swans are usually everything that we are not. They are nothing if not reliable. Their development of youth is probably unrivalled. Recycled recruits after oft-rejuvenated when Harbour-side. They are impeccable in their diligence and their no-nonsense approach. 

Sydney are probably to 2021 what the Saints were to 2020. They were unfancied. They’ve got a bright-fresh-new-look about them. The mainstays of the squad have ceded the limelight to the young bloods such as Dawson, Gulden, Haywood, McInerney, McCartin. Yet, it seems like a familiar tale for Swans; nothing unsurprising. They rarely let themselves hit the ropes, let alone take long to bounce back with a renewed vigour. 

Continue reading