Category: Match reviews

Round 17, 2022
St Kilda 4.4, 7.6, 9.8, 10.70 (70)
Fremantle 4.3, 6.4, 13.8, 17.9 (111)
Crowd: 21,652 at Marvel Stadium, Saturday, July 9th at 7.25pm
By Lethal

These are the types of games that when the season is done and you look back, are going to jump off of the page, good, bad or ugly. A fork-in-the-road, an 8-point-game, a do-or-die game. At home at Concrete Stadium. We simply haven’t had many of them over the last 9 years – certainly not in Melbourne. So many times on this blog we’ve mentioned how, even though 2020 happened, the crux of the Saints faithful hasn’t bonded with this group. These are the nights for that to happen, one way or the other.

Tom and Matt were late and understandable withdrawals, and would be taking in the game via Channel 7. Do I go it alone? I hadn’t faced this conundrum in a long time and the digitisation of ticketing was somewhat of a blocker in fobbing off a couple of social club tickets to non-Saints mates. It was a game time decision.  

I scarfed-up and left the house to jump in the car. 

If you had spoken to me at half-time of this one, as Rory (RWB ambassador) did, you would’ve seen me pretty damn chuffed. I didn’t have high hopes for us against the Top 4 bound Dockers, especially after Dougal went down with a knee last week. Not even the mention of Pierce being scratched really sparked my hopes up. The Dockers are just too disciplined, too big up forward and in the engine room they have aces that we don’t have. 

But if you had spoken to me at half-time, I was pretty chuffed at how well the Saints had played. We had witnessed Sinclair with a sneaky Banger Harvey impersonation, shimmying not once but twice laterally, before lofting a beautiful sausage through in the second term. We had witnessed the Saints with some incisive, considered cutting and thrusting through the Dockers defensive zone to set up 16 first quarter inside 50s. The centre was ours; we were well on top of the clearances. Seb Ross was using his jets to good effect, bursting clear of stoppages and (remarkably) finishing off with spearing drop punts into the forward 50. 

For all that goodness, we ended up a measly 8 points ahead at half-time. 

In the cold, cold, cold light of Sunday and taking in the decisive third term replay on Kayo, it was that lack of ruthlessness and polish in the first half that left a really bittersweet taste in the mouth. Our 2020 footy as much as anything is proof that scoreboard pressure counts for so much, especially when up against more credentialled opposition. We weren’t able to go for the jugular in the first half. As much as we were transitioning the ball with more fluidity, the second term in particular, resulted in a lot of shallow entries. As a result, we had several shots from near or on the 50 metre arc. Skunk, Winx, Ryder amongst others all failing to convert from reasonably tricky distances and angles. Skunk’s first of the night gave us a 14 point buffer. As far as the scoreboard goes that was to be as good as it got for us. There were only a couple of minutes and change left before the main break when he kicked that and yet we still coughed up another soft goal to give them new life before half time. It would come in the most frustrating of ways too: ‘arm chop’ is how the umpire described it at the time. I think Rory Lobbe was as surprised as anyone to receive it. It was a clean Silky Wilkie spoil. 8 points at half time.

But the real thorn in our side through the night was some of the calamitous ball handling and disposal out of the back half. Pour one Jameson out for poor Darragh Joyce. The Irishman had a real night to forget. His attempted handball across goal in the first term was easily chopped off by Banfield and duly swept through for a goal. Gresh too was guilty of a terrible turnover, this time bursting through the centre and straight into a cul-de-sac of onrushing Dockers, before looping a handball over them to ugh…more Dockers. Turnover, bang, goal. These clown-like moments didn’t seem to puncture the Saints enthusiasm or appetite for the contest through the first half. This may have been the half in which Steele, Crouch and Ross as a trio put together their best half as a unit, especially when you consider who they were going up against. The Saints powered on. But those unforced errors served to keep the Dockers afloat when they should’ve been on the ropes. Saints fans have seen this movie umpteenth times before. 

I walked out of the stadium a couple of minutes prior to the final siren. I wanted to beat the traffic home and the final quarter had become a real bloodbath. The arctic wind rushed through a more cavernous Corporate Stadium. What a game of two halves. Brayshaw, relatively inactive to half-time, had 23 touches in the second half. Will Brody kicked two sublime goals and really injected himself into the game. Fyfe was getting involved, though he was mainly on the end of some catastrophic turnovers. 

The talk of the media after the Blues game was of the Saints newfound swashbuckling ball movement. This was somewhat laughable. The cut and thrust that the likes of Hill and Sinclair initiated for the Saints was present for about a quarter and a bit on that night. The decisive element though (particularly in the first half) was the intensity that the Saints were able to bring in their front half. Even as the Blues took control during the second quarter, and as the influence of Hill and Sinclair was being stifled, the Saints were able to stem the bleeding by generating two consecutive goals courtesy of great forward pressure. From their 7.6 to half-time, 5.2 were from forward half turnovers. Those “easy” opportunities are what good teams are able to do to keep their boat afloat even against the flow of the game.

Absent those quickfire opportunities on the back of turnovers, the Saints rely so heavily on their forwards taking contested marks to generate shots on goal. Of course, some of this can be put down to the key forwards needing to work more to try and create space for each other. Too often, Marshall and Max, or Paddy and Max, or Skunk and Max are paired together near the pocket, only for both of them going for the mark. Rarely, do they block for each other. Those layers to the forward play of this team still seem lacking. 

The other end of the ground though I think will bear the brunt of the mid-week review though. Joyce (at least once), Ross, Battle, Paddy (in a St Kilda jumper), Silky Wilkie, Webster, Highmore were all guilty of some horrendous decisions and disposals coming out of the back 50 in that early third term. As much as the Dockers had taken the Saints centre square dominance personally and ramped up their pressure, the way the defense in particular wilted was terrible. Coming into the game it was easy to envisage Lobbe wreaking havoc, marking everything vaguely kicked into the sky in the Freo forward 50. Yet the Freo third-term onslaught began with Seb electing not to give a simple handball to Steele in the back pocket, and then flubbing a right-foot kick feebly into opposition hands. Schultz’s resulting kick flicked straight to an unmarked Lobbe. He kicked truly. The die was cast. 

(Perhaps the most lol-worthy of this cavalcade of defensive mistakes was Wilkie getting called to play-on, just as Battle was running behind him for some reason. Wilkie gave the handball just as Battle’s opponent was tackling him. Battle fumbled and then handballed a simple handball at Joyce’s shoelaces and Joyce turned inboard from the boundary line to whack a kick 25 metres straight into the corridor of the Docker’s forward 50. It was hard to comprehend). 

The twist of the knife in this game was that, as much as the air had been sucked out of the side with an avalanche of 5 or 6 Dockers goals in quick succession, the Saints suddenly won a couple of centre clearances. Skunk Membrey was the beneficiary of another Crouch clearance. It was a gigantic set shot; the chance to keep a flicker of hope alive. Goal. Another centre bounce, another clearance for the Saints. SnagsCoin did his customary throwing of himself forward and duping the umpires into an in-the-back decision. One of countless atrocious decisions for the night – though one of the few that went our way. SnagsCoin’s speculative, arching, high shot from 50 sailing high and true. As it dropped, Mason Wood swooped along the goal line and clunked a brilliant grab. Goal. Margin was back to 18 points and Saints fans dared to entertain the thought of a revival. 

What would transpire over the remaining 2.5-3 minutes of the third term was a blur and ended up with the most collectively livid Saints crowd I can remember through 3 decades of going to AFL games. As the momentum had sneakily shifted, Silky Wilkie smothered Taberner’s kick. Taberner had been gifted a free-kick after a pathetic in-the-back decision following an aerial contest about 55m from the Saints goal. Take note. Anyway, Wilkie smothers the ensuing kick and the ball makes it’s way to Butler in the left pocket. Butler had been active all night; his appetite for pressure was up (he’d finish with 6 tackles and two goals). Instinctively he swung onto his right foot. It arched, it carried the 30m easily. Just skinny. Back to 17 points. That would be as close as they would get. 

The quarter would finish with Marvel ringing in a chorus of boos from Saints fans after a hilariously bad sequence of umpiring, ending with Butler remonstrating with the umpire and Michael Fredericks kicking truly from 25 metres out. Butler had remonstrated after not being paid holding-the-ball for a chase down on Clarke, and then the Dockers being paid holding-the-ball only 5 seconds later. It was an incredible sequence. Yet things had been building up to that point, especially since Lobbe was paid that fanciful free-kick for chopping-the-arms late in the second term in front of goal when the Saints were well on top. I don’t think I dedicate many “column inches” on this site to the umpires, but there’s no doubt that they had an extraordinarily bad night and that their incompetency helped in shaping the momentum of the game at various times. It made the game hard to watch. (Though I find myself evening saying this when watching neutral games too). When the Saints were down 17, Crouch laid a perfect tackle on Hughes who had taken him on with possession. The ball spilled loose. No call. They were 20 metres out from the Saints goal at the time. 

It finished as a 41 point loss, though it felt like so much worse. The night had promised so much at times but the Saints toppled over all too easily. 

Jack Billings’ 150th. He started the game on the bench, or at least it felt that way. The first time I noticed him was when he watched Darcy’s speculative snap bounce through in the first term. I’ve officially found myself in the phase of watching Latte and just feeling sorry for him. Each game you’ll see him bob up to get a few chip kicks up the line on the back flank. He looks so diligent in trying hard. When he kicked a junk-time goal versus the Swans 3 weeks back, he urged his teammates to fight it out. “Come on!”. Jack is likeable and he has his moments swinging onto a left-foot snap here and there, but it’s a running game as ever, and he moves like he’s in quicksand. No matter where you place him on the ground, he looks mismatched. The game demands severe adherence to closing down and exposing spaces in rapid flurries, over and over and over. Jack doesn’t seem physically at the level.

The Dockers looked like scoring most times they’d go into the forward 50. They started the game with 7 scoring shots from 10 inside 50s in the first quarter. And you can’t solely point the finger at the likes of Callum, Darragh, Tom and Josh. When you watch the Dees, the Cats, even the Dockers (on Sat night!), you’re struck with how consistently they can plug up space in their back fifty. Midfielders bust a gut just in the hope of occupying a space in a grid that may deter the opposition from entering the corridor. And they do this instinctively and feverishly. Fyfe was afforded an acre of space to lead into untouched. The Saints mids were back, but they just hung around the 50 metre arc. No attention to detail; no game sense. 

Against the Blues, a Blues outfit minus Jacob Weitering (and no Liam Jones of course), Max King was mainly used as a decoy. Skunk Membrey ended up with 4 and Marshall had 12 marks for the night – a rare night in the BEST for RoMa in 2022. And even despite playing sacrificial lamb, Max ended up snagging 3 of his own. It seemed like a game within the game that the Saints had won. Brennan Cox is no Glenn Jakovich and yet he’d be very pleased with his night versus Max on Saturday. Max had started so well in the first term, kicking an early set shot, but there on out the Dockers clattered him, crashed every aerial contest, deprived him of air space. Max King is the least of the Saints’ concerns. He’s the first true beam of hope for the Saints in a decade. Watching him in the flesh, it just becomes disheartening at times how he seems reluctant to lead at the ball. He seems hellbent at running back deep and calling for the ball long. It seems to play into the opposition’s hands a lot of the time.

At 9-7 their fate is still technically in their hands. And yet I think subconsciously it’s become evident that the Saints are going to need the Footy Gods to shine down on them to help in their pursuit of a finals berth. Approaching the mid-season break at 8-3, the gauntlet of big challenges on the horizon was more than evident. The way they’ve taken on those challenges has been revealing.

They need D-Mac back – a true soldier and selfless competitor. They need Paddy Ryder to find some life in his legs. Winx needs to pull out some flaming hot quarters. They need Seb to keep turning on the jets out of contests. They need a few more Nasiah flashes of brilliance. Butler needs to keep down impressions of the roadrunner. They need to stop shooting themselves in the foot with their disposal. They must win on Friday night versus the Dogs.

Round 14, 2022
St Kilda 2.1, 3.3, 8.4, 11.6 (72)
Essendon 4.5, 7.7, 13.11, 15.17 (107)
Crowd: 33,274 at Marvel Stadium, Friday, June 17th at 7.50pm
By Lethal

“Should be a win for the Saints on Friday night, yeah”, I’m asked. In response, I give them the look. “I’m a Saints supporter; I’m never fully confident”.

We’ve all had these chats with friends or colleagues. Do they know that they’re probably tempting the fate of the Footy God’s when saying such things? For the most part, no. You can forgive them for posing such questions. On paper, and taking in even the most surface level footy information, this was surely a contest of two teams of starkly different ambitions. Plus, no Darcy Parish.

But this is the Saints – we turn any game into a banana peel game. And this is the Essendon Football Club. They’ve bullied us; they troll us, regardless of where the teams sit on the ladder, for decades now.

As soon as I confronted having to actually write this the impulse was right there to contrast this horrendous loss to the corresponding fixture in Round 3 last year. On that occasion, it was a 75-point drubbing, but it may as well have been 100 points plus given how gobsmacked it left Saints fans at the ground. It felt like a bumper crowd (29,234 in actual fact), but that may have been accentuated by the fact that it was only my second in-person footy experience since the Pandemic had set in, and so like most, I was super hyped. St Kilda had started off in a so-so fashion so far that year, having defeated the Giants in a drizzly game interstate, before a shoddy effort against the Demons at Corporate Stadium. St Kilda’s injury list was already worrying and significant (Ryder, Marshall, Gresham etc), Crouch suspended too, and so most fans had largely ignored any warning signs of tumultuous waters ahead, to that point. The goodwill of 2020 had spilled over nicely. Round 3 was a complete smack in the face. It was the type of loss that can suddenly make you re-evaluate everything to do with the Club. What’s been going on over summer? Does the Coach actually have a grip on what’s happening? What does this team stand for? Is Steele actually made for the captaincy gig? It was like the mask had been ripped off of the 2021 Saints. Claims to the effect of “we’ll get Jones / Crouch / Ryder” back in the side all felt empty. Something had become rotten at the core. The word rudderless keeps coming to mind. 

This time around and again the Bombers are the bullies stealing our chocolate milk.

This loss cuts differently though. Spud’s game. On Friday Night Footy – we don’t get many. But also, the stakes in a football sense were so much higher compared to that Easter Saturday train-wreck. Going into the mid-year BYE, all things aside, we had put ourselves in a strong position to claim a finals spot. Coming into Friday Night, for Spud’s game, having absorbed the bulk of the Footy’s world media spotlight, we were 8-4 and in need of a win to solidify our position in the light of the battles on the horizon. A win here and we can get on the front foot before diving head first into a gauntlet of games against finals aspirants Sydney, Carlton, Freo and the Dogs. It’s the hope that twists the knife.

The Club has known that Winter Is Coming for several weeks now. Making hay while the sun is shining has been front of mind, and the Bombers presented a calm before the storm in terms of the second half of the year. “We have invented ways of stuffing things up” – a paraphrased Grant Thomas. 2022 has been an improved year, all things considered and the win-loss attests to that. Yet, I think even the most one-eyed Saint would agree that the Saints don’t have the luxury of playing with a ‘flick the switch’ mentality. This season has contained several victories, where contributions from 22 players (or close to) has been the order of the day. In Winks, Gresh – and to a lesser extent Snags – this side does contain wildcards, the quality of which we haven’t possessed for literally 10 years. Nonetheless, this side’s modus operandi has been to control the footy, work the ball forward, be defensively minded across the ground and allow our defence to set up higher up the ground. This, alongside periods where we play-on more readily and utilise our halfbacks to kickstart forays forward. But our commitment to the defensive structures has always underpinned the other parts of the game.

At a fundamental level, the Bombers game was a chance to actually bounce back to form after a frustrating trip to Brisbane. Slice it any way you like, we led the ladder leaders by two goals at half-time on their home deck. It was far from a standout performance, but especially early on we were on top and showed we could mix it with the more fancied Lions. The rest of the game descended into frustration, both in the way we wilted around the ball (hello, massive inside 50 loss) and in the casualties that we suffered along the way. 

Does this team have a deer-in-the-headlights problem? Corporate Stadium was heaving in Round 1; overflowing with the black and white army. Saints fans were more sheepish in their anticipation. I mentioned to Tom at the time that there was a pretty strong chance of us “shitting the bed” in light of the spotlight and the occasion (see: actual significant numbers of fans at a game). What muddies this discussion is that this team hasn’t been good enough to work itself into many games of significance over the last several years. Does Seb Ross play well in big games? Well, hell how do we know – we’ve barely played in a handful of “Big Games” since 2011’s Elimination Final. 

Perhaps the most frustrating aspect of the night for me was that, as much as we seemed off from essentially the get-go, at half-time you were still left thinking that the game was still right there for the taking. The Bombers had “come to play”, and their ability to put speed on the ball had seemingly stoked the Saints CBF vibes, but the Saints had ample chances to hit the scoreboard. Blatant skill errors, ragged movement, over complicated disposal in the forward 50, all conspired to us squandering countless chances up forward. The Dons were the better side, but their somewhat cavalier approach to bolting forward had also revealed so many holes for us to poke through when having ball in hand. 

It only took a minute into the third term for the Saints to strike. Skunk was re-instated to the forward line after having been deployed as a loose man across defence in the second term. But it was Marshall, another anonymous figure in the first half, who out-muscled Ridley to take an excellent grab. He celebrated the set shot with a 300-esque flex. This was a play that actually looked like it was plucked from the training ground: the behind the goal camera showing Marshall dart around Long in a horizontal U-shape, in turn letting Long put in a half screen for RoMa’s man. The Saints then kicked the next four by way of Ryder, Long, Latte, and Snags. This was all within a 7 minute spurt. Even the umpires were swept up in the momentum of it, Billings and Snags both on the end of extremely fortunate umpiring decisions. 

This patch was a blitzkrieg and by the time Snags kicked the fifth of that bunch, we were one point in front. Yet the Dons weren’t completely shaken. Our bubble was feebly burst by Stringer’s arching long-bomb set shot from 53 metres out. Such a fitting party-pooper. This was the first of 5 consecutive from the Dons to close out the quarter – including another from the The Package, this time on the left foot. Like a lot of the year, St Kilda’s centre square work seemed mostly like a roll of the dice. There’s no coverage for when we don’t win the initial scrimmage or tap. Once the Dons had weathered the initial storm in the middle, the patterns of the first half re-emerged. Too often Saints players getting caught ahead of the ball and too often the Dons being able to spread the ball easily out of contested situations. 

*****

Gresham was awarded a free for “insufficient intent” (see: deliberate out of bounds) and duly kicked a nice Stevie J deep into the last term to bring it back to a five goal margin. That was his third of the night to go with 31 disposals. Through the start of the third term he was one of the spark plugs around the ball that started shifting the momentum of the game. This only slightly made up for the fact that it was his spontaneous, reckless switch across goal that rolled-out the red carpet for the Dons to intercept and waltz into their first goal of the night early in the first term. Those mindless moments are what can drive you crazy sometimes when watching Gresh. Finding the balance between spontaneous brilliance and trying to do too much continues to be a process with him. 

Another player that stood out was Josh Battle. He was resolute in defence, plugging holes on the last line several times. He’s been Mr.Consistent this year and his efforts through the year have probably been somewhat overshadowed by the similarly consistent Cal Wilkie. Once or twice JB was caught out trying to outjump Draper or Two Metre Peter, but he was stranded on such occasions. The back six was laid bare so many times with the ball moving between the arcs at light speed without a semblance of pressure on the ball carriers.

For all the inevitable fanfare, neither Clark or Billings came away having solidified a position in the 22. Latte did snag a beautiful, spontaneous banana snap goal in the second term – one of the Saints’ three majors for the half. He added to his tally with a second as part of the third quarter blitzkrieg – a set shot was from the goal line after a contender for worst 50 metre penalty of the year. (Guelfi supposedly breached the “Outside 5” protected zone rule. If that’s a 50 metre penalty, then the umpires are missing about 100 a game). Jack’s impact outside of his two goals was minimal if any. He seemed to be played predominantly through the midfield, yet you didn’t see him reach or impact many contests at all. More worryingly for Saints fans is that Latte’s projected major elite talent (his kicking) seems to regularly desert him these days. Case in point, Latte had a free-kick dead on centre-wing in second term and with all the time in the world, including a 5×5 “outside 5” radius of space around him, he managed to kick the ball a metre above Max King’s head in the forward pocket, despite their being 10 metres in front of Max begging to be utilised. Max’s finger tips couldn’t pull the mark in. Another foray scuppered.

The most curious aspect of this Billings thread to the season is that Jack was re-signed for a further four years only several months ago – as good a symbol as any that Latte is part of the Club’s short term future and building towards a flag tilt, right? But by round 10 this year, it had become plainly evident that his spot in the best 22 was questionable at best. Despite some big numbers at Sandy, Latte only managed to be included for the Adelaide game before being dumped back to the Zebras. That performance against Adelaide? Aside from two impactful moments in the final term he laboured. It’s been a pretty telling shift in sentiment towards the former Pick #3. Perhaps, the Club did not see the rookie trio (Windy, Nas, and Mitchito) having such an impact on the Seniors this early. Perhaps they didn’t envisage they would be as physically ready as they have been. Perhaps the early inclusion of Nas, and a more consistent and spry Hill, has opened the Coaches eyes to the benefits of a midfield mix with a little more in the way of dash and polish. Latte is unquestionably talented, but I think the door has well truly shut on him living up to Pick 3. Can he become a serviceable AFL player? If he is to be played up forward more permanently, then will he discover a way to impact the game when he doesn’t have the ball?

*****

At the BYE, I went through each of the remaining games in the fixture and I couldn’t quite settle on whether we’d finish with 12 or 13 wins. Having now played Essendon, I’d say we will finish with 12 wins. Will that be enough for the Finals? Probably not, given that the Pies and Richmond both have significantly smoother runs towards September. The Pies do finish with two tough fixtures though. Of course, this is all hinging on the Saints form and health – particularly the former. If we were to recapture our best form, then 13 or 14 wins is not out of the question at all. The ladder is tight. Incidentally, as part of my 12 win prediction I had pencilled us in for a loss this week. That said, the Swans form has recently nosedived.  

Presuming he’s at close to 100 percent, the return of Steele next week as well as Murmurs McKenzie (surely) and the availability of Mitchito, would mean that from a health perspective the Saints are in as good a position as they could hope with over half the season gone. Geary was shaping as a possible inclusion but a shoulder injury again has him on the sidelines. 

This makes for further selection dilemmas as we dive into the depths of June and July. What mix of small forwards are needed? Does Nas’ outside polish overshadow his inadequacies without the footy in hand? Can Sharman be played alongside King, Membrey and Ryder or Marshall? This type of depth has not been seen at Moorabbin since 2011. It’s a welcome sight.

Resident Cryptocurrency magnate Snags Higgins I think should be closest to the chopping block. Every time he didn’t mark the ball on Friday Night, he was either on all fours or he was left in the wake of his opponents. Indications from the bulls and bears in the market is that SnagsCoin is at a yearly low, but I’m not buying. Speaking of bulls, The Ben Long Experience has earnt the right to be up forward full-time. It lets him lean into his maniacal tendencies. He’s become a barometer of our pressure gauge and is one of the few players from Friday Night that relished that part of the game. Butler’s ball use was at its rollercoaster worst, and so his omission wouldn’t shock me either. Ryan Byrnes was apparently out there too; definitely seemed to be playing at VFL pace. Would the match committee be tempted into giving Kent a run, as a statement as much as anything? 

Historically Ratts and the match committee have tended to give players more than 1 game to prove themselves before pulling the trigger on omission. Though the Billings omission after Adelaide perhaps signalled a shift in policy this year – particularly in regards to established players who should know their role. My gut tells me that Clark gets another week before the selection microscope zones on him properly. Problem is, that the Saints finals chances are officially on the clock. Round 15 – a mini final. Round 15 last year saw us reduce the still finals aspiring Tigers to 2.10 (22) and an emphatic victory at the G. This week requires a similar return to respecting the defensive aspects of the game.   

Snack of Choice (SoC) of the round [SPONSORSHIP PENDING]

• N/A. I was at a bar and so snacks were sidelined, and instead wine was being consumed. Quite a bit of it.

Selection table radar

• Who would I actually drop for this week? It’s a really tricky one. McKenzie and Steele must be back in. Byrnes, Snags, Clark, Billings and Nas all should be put heavily under the microscope. Probably Butler too – why not I guess.
• Paton has struggled for at least the last 3-4 games. I’m not sure there’s a ready made replacement to come in. Leo Conolly hasn’t been exactly thumping the door down. I don’t see Highmore as a like-for-like.
• Has Zak Jones actually done much this year? He’s meant to be one of our x-factor players. Very nondescript season from Zak and needs to do more.

Round 10, 2022
Adelaide 1.5, 4.8, 6.13, 9.15 (69)
St Kilda 2.1, 3.3, 6.4, 14.6 (90)
Crowd: 28,783 at Adelaide Oval, Saturday, May 21st at 7:00pm

As predictable as Round 7’s slow-motion-car-crash loss to the Power was in Cairns, the win over their cross-town rivals on Saturday Night at the Adelaide Oval was thrilling. Not because the Saints’ structures suddenly clicked into place; not because the team started where they left off from Marvel last week; not because my Democracy Sausage contained a little extra something-something. Big players played big and some of the residual belief found in last week’s blitzkrieg at Marvel had seemingly stuck.

Even for them the Saints start on Saturday night was frightful. I had dedicated a decent portion of the early part of election day to sweating out a hangover, and then predictably attained enough snacks to sink the Titanic in anticipation of a Saints/Federal Election double-header. I had stress-eaten my way through copious amounts of popcorn as the Crows leaped ahead in the clearances 8-3, notching up the first 9 inside 50s. The Saints would finish the quarter with a measly 9 of their own after being on the back foot almost exclusively. Flashbacks to that fateful, humid, greasy night in Cairns flooded back as the ball mimic’d a bar of soap early. In one of the few promising forays forward, Gresham scythed through the centre corridor only to completely shank the drop punt into fifty, and a lumbering Marshall then comically juggled the pick up, taking 2 or 3 bites at the cherry, before coughing up the handball. It didn’t scream inspiration. King, of course, made a mockery of all this shortly before quarter time in going back with the flight and dobbing his first set shot of the night. This was only to be the beginning. “Get it anywhere near the bloke and he’s going to be hard to beat” claimed Ricciuto. On this night, that statement actually seemed reasonable – despite the Saints every effort to butcher the footy. 

It’s been well documented that more than ever, trust issues have come to the fore for Saints fans in 2022. The demolition at the hands of the Dees thwarted this process even further, just as the Media was coaxing Saints fans into starting to believe. And the false-start against the young Pies set us on our heels psychologically from Round 1. Obviously any Saints fan who was old enough to fully absorb the near-misses of The Lyon Era has grappled with this for several years at least. But, even more so, the relationship with this particular group of players has been such a peculiar one. In 2021, with hopes mostly high, the fans started to finally witness the likes of Hill, Dougal, Butler, King and the rest, having only cheered them on from afar via screens. And though the highs of 2020 were high there was still something missing. We had to see it for ourselves; seeing it under the ferocious heat of packed footy stadiums. Wins like the one on Saturday night, especially in defiance of the odds, and our history, and our current inadequacies, especially when our big players play big help forge bonds with the fans that actually only strengthen in time. 

Max King is only 21 years and 10 months old, and yet – as Chris Scott noted last week – he is probably the best young key forward in the game. Some would say he’s already in the top handful of forwards overall. King’s year had been a slight tease to this point. He’s had some telling games, whilst also still working through the rigours of playing against uber disciplined defences week after week. On Saturday night there was a ruthlessness and a undeniability that we hadn’t witnessed before from Max, especially not over a full four quarters. 5 contested marks, 6 marks overall and 6 goals. This is a performance that I think, in the deep recesses of most Saints’ fans minds existed, yet there’s been a tentativeness to actually let those beliefs breathe. He was playing on Nick Murray, hardly a Glenn Jakovich figure in the game, but the ruthlessness and the quality of the Max’s marking spoke of a guy who backed himself to mark and kick anything. Tellingly, aside from Max’s sixth, all of his set shots came from within 30 metres or less.

On form, on play, on connection, on general structure this was a sub-par performance – even going by the eye test, and with no access to anything resembling professional sports analytics at hand. Even when the Saints came out of the gates full of gusto in the third quarter, it only seemed to accentuate the raggedness of our structures between the arcs. By three-quarter time, I felt like we had emptied our clip. The Crows, replete with some sharp, nimble forward/midfielders, seemed to be collectively licking their lips at the end-to-end flow of the game. We were lucky to win the quarter in the end with the Crows scuppering opportunities left and right, on their way to 2.5. 

Dwayne Russell did his best to set the bad juju in full flight at three-quarter time, positing “We know they’re finals worthy, but are they top 4 worthy?” – pipe down; that’s tantamount to a hate crime for any rusted-on Saints fan. (Was this the most Bad Juju Saints Broadcast Team yet? Dwayne, Adelaide FC Director Mark Ricciuto, and ex failed part-time Saints Goalkicking coach guy Ben Dixon). Yet, the Saints were clearly not listening. Windy with possibly the most composed and precise kick of the night, setting up Max for the first major of the final term, with a sensational place kick that had the purity of a sand-wedge onto a manicured green. (Funnily enough, as King remarked, we probably had our best game kicking the ball specifically to King. Hill’s dime swinging a drop-punt into the fat-side of the forward line in the third term was probably the pick of the bunch. Wood’s arching left-footer in the first term was also a beauty). Max had 5, the Saints had 7 and we were within 3 points. Shortly thereafter, Naz’s moment came, dashing into space and side-stepping around one. He wasn’t able to cash in, but suddenly the momentum was fully with the Saints. Adelaide’s mosquito fleet, notably Rachele and Rowe, among others were stubbornly keeping the Crowe’s in touch though – with some great Selwood impersonations to boot. 

Those that had been anonymous were suddenly getting a sniff, and producing individual moments. Billings, virtually unsighted all night, followed up a dogged attack on the ball with a handball receive and deft right-foot pass. Sharman marked and went back with confidence from beyond 50. Goal. If it wasn’t that moment that made you a believer, it was Tex Walker flubbing a routine snap from 25 metres a couple of minutes later. Bad kicking is bad footy. The Saints may as well have trademarked that saying. Dawson would go on to kick the Crows back in front but St Kilda weren’t to be denied. Down by two points, with 7 minutes left, they found a way to four more majors. All of them came from towering marks. The height advantage was suddenly paying off majorly. Paddy Ryder (of the St Kilda football club) kicked the penultimate major and being the Spiritual Leader he is, his overshadowed RoMa’s final sausage. 

(Sharman’s goal from fifty was a deft reminder of his sneaky Cult Status potential. He’s overtaken Skunk as the true exponent of the leaning-back double-fist pump goal celebration. But Clubhouse leader Jack Hayes is still way out in front however. Windhager also getting hype here and there). 

Ratts labelled the game as a whole pretty bad overall. Many individuals lowered their colours or just didn’t have any sustained influence – Billings, Wood, Sharman, Jones, Naz, Paton, Mackenzie among them. Structurally, things looked ragged at times and of course, our woefield field kicking again tormented us. We finished with 73 clangers (73!). We had just come off our second win against the Cats in virtually a decade. They’ve been the gold standard when it comes to chalking up wins regardless of predictions and circumstances. Sceptics have continually bobbed up; questions about the inevitable age barrier catching up with their linchpin stars. Every year they find ways to win; they adjust, they grind. Often it’s not pretty, but there’s a relentless pursuit and inner-belief that they have enough each week. One or two Saturday nights in May doesn’t redefine a team, but these wins for the Saints have a glimmer of that appetite for winning. 

I’ve been one of the more vocal critics of Brad Crouch. With a big contract comes significant expectations, and the boy from Ballarat, in a return to his old AFL stomping ground, put in one of his more important and telling shifts as a Saint. Especially in the absence of our fearless skipper this was an important performance. Along with Gresham, he willed our midfield back into the fight in the second half and his wobby, feeble left-foot snap goal in the final term was just desserts. Both Seb and Crouch can often look outdated; cut from cloth from yesteryear when midfielders revelled at the bottom of the pack and often had more handballs than kicks. Unlike Seb, Crouch doesn’t possess a couple of extra gears in leg-speed, but his work in close was instrumental in the Saints finally establishing some ongoing field position and time in their forward half in the final term.

One of the understandable criticisms of this St Kilda side is the lack of margin for error in its makeup. Our better performances this year have been largely based on controlled, measured, disciplined performances of even contribution. We have often been as good as our bottom handful of players and this becomes especially noticeable against the heavyweight teams, who are able to put the blowtorch to how many of those guys can deliver under the heat. This performance on Saturday night was at odds with that. King, Hill, Wilkie were all sublime. Wilkie’s pouncing on Darcy Fogarty in the goal-square was breathtaking. And as David King was at pains to highlight, Brad Hill (in his 200th game) turned the game on its head and was almost becoming St Kilda’s sole path to quality shots on goal for portions of the game. Not only was Hill’s customary silky disposal into the forward line on display, but he was also proving to be one of the more clean ball-handlers and elusive customers in the greasy conditions. And in retrospect, some of those mad collabs between Hill and King, were what Saints fans had let themselves fantasise about coming into 2021. Coming to the footy and witnessing individuals manually shift this team into top gear when the need arises.

As the Saints upped the tempo and started to roll the dice with the ball a little more, inevitably the back six found itself in more and more 1-on-1s. This culminated in some epic duels between Wilkie and Tex Walker in particular. Wilkie had him in his pocket all night. Another quiet scalp for The Accountant. He’s become absolutely indispensable to this team. Acting captain Dougal Howard was pretty damn solid as well, particularly early when the Crows were flinging the ball forward with ease and frequency. 

“They’re scary good” proclaimed Dwayne before the final siren. Not sure about that one. Sometimes we are scary, sometimes we are good. Sometimes The Ben Long Experience is maddening. Jack Steele’s AC joint could’ve been the needle that popped the Saints season. 6 to 8 weeks without him was a diagnosis to dampen any win. 7 wins from 10, and with the Roos up next – even for the most traumatised Saints fan, this juncture of the season is laced with opportunity. 

Round 16, 2021
Collingwood 1.2, 1.5, 3.7, 8.13 (61)
St Kilda 3.1, 4.5, 10.8, 10.10 (70)
At the MCG, Sunday, July 4th at 3.20pm

The result of these types of games all too often completely colours how you reflect on it. 16 rounds in and it’s still a test for the fans: how much do you take away from 3 quarters, on a dreary, greasy July afternoon, against a checked-out Pies team?

If you are an evergreen optimist, the angle is that the Saints were a Higgins straight kick or two (Sydney) and minus one umpiring brain-fade in the goal square (Adelaide), from being in sixth right now.

I think it’s safe to say that the well-documented Home Truths Sessions in Sydney etc have transpired into some on-field improvements. Generally, the team has regained some oomph. Commitment to the one-percenters has shifted up a gear or two. And the defensive setup across the ground seems to have solidified. Both the Tigers and then Collingwood on Sunday visibly got dispirited by the Saints ability to both starve them of possession, as well as seal all windows and doors when it came to getting through the middle third of the ground.

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Round 11, 2021
St Kilda 3.6, 7.11, 11.14, 12.16 (88)
North Melbourne 1.0, 3.4, 5.7, 10.8 (68)
Crowd: Zero at Marvel Stadium, Saturday, May 29th at 4.35pm

Good on Jarryn Geary for jolting us back into coherence in the last quarter. His courageous mark going back with the flight was one of the rare flashpoints in the day that reminded you we were witnessing an AFL game – one that actually counts; you get four points and everything.

On countless occasions this year we’ve heard mention of “Saints footy” from various players and coaches alike. Eleven games in, and it’s hard to tell whether the playing group as a collective have actually settled on what “Saints footy” is.  I’ve seen so many milestone jumper presentations over the first eleven rounds it’s not even funny. Those videos have become somewhat comical. What’s actually being said and heard? Well, if it’s being said by a current player too – then is it just hot air?

“Saints footy” actually became a somewhat known term (brand?) through the 00s somewhere amidst the GT and Ross Lyon eras. Relentless pressure; unwavering team defence; 100% effort 100% of the time; “getting the fingernail in”; playing your role no matter who you were. These were KPIs that weren’t just there to look good on slides. You saw them acted upon on a week to week basis, whether you were looking at Robert Eddy, Luke Ball, Steven Baker, Brett Voss or Sean Dempster.

Saturday reflected very little of those things. It smacked of immaturity, of just doing “enough”, and of a team that’s still short on confidence but more importantly well short on resolve and tenacity. We were indirectly promised a response, a statement, but I didn’t see one.

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Round 6, 2021
Port Adelaide 4.1, 8.3, 11.8, 14.9 (93)
St Kilda 1.4, 2.5, 3.7, 5.9 (39)
Adelaide Oval, Sunday, April 25th at 6.40pm

As the world keeps turning, perhaps unwittingly Melbourne has stumbled upon the biggest marker that we’re closer to normalcy: St Kilda Football Club again is easy pickings for the AFL. 

Try as they might, the Fox Footy crew’s insistent wishes and prayers for the tide to turn in this counter came to naught. You know when Dermott Brereton is underlining any whiff of effort or focus from your team that you’re in dire straits. 

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Round 3, 2021
Essendon 6.4, 12.6, 16.10, 22.11 (143) 
St Kilda 3.3, 4.5, 6.9, 9.14 (68)
Marvel Stadium, Saturday, April 3rd at 4.35pm

Surely they have had a rev up. Surely they’re going to snap out of it. Nope. No. That feeling of waiting for the light to switch on; for the players to wipe the sleep out of their eyes kept lingering. But the red and black carpet just kept being rolled out. 

Almost like a carbon copy of the Melbourne game, the Bombers were on the board in a major way within a minute. That was just a taste. It felt like a full several minutes before a disposal was registered for the Saints. The centre clearances were like a drive-through service for nimble Essendon midfielders – except for when McKernan was giving away free kicks for them. It was a bruise-free as it gets. The midfield looked completely flat footed.

A couple of Billings majors in the first term – one of the few who seemed to come ready to play – and the quarter time margin of 19 points felt extremely generous. However, another six goals from the Dons (this time with only one in reply) confirmed Saints’ fans’ worst nightmares. Some of the faithful exited the arena at half time.

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