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.