Luke Beveridge’s side were lopsided, occasionally astonishing and frequently bewildering – and now rue another lost yearIt’s no way to live your footballing life. You’re being well beaten at half-time. You trail the tackle count 43 to 23. You’re lucky not to be further behind. You send Rory Lobb, who’s no Gary Dempsey, into the ruck. You kick three goals in two minutes. You overrun your bogey side and get the four points in Geelong for the first time in twenty years.You then have to wait. You stew for 20 hours. Your finals fate, for the second year in a row, is wedded to Carlton. You look at their outs – Cripps, Docherty, Pittonet, Motlop. You gather as a playing...
Goal review debacle and shock results killed off some suspense but last weekend’s upheaval shows nothing is certain in footballAs the AFL was reminded again last weekend, to its significant chagrin, there is no such thing as a certainty in sport after a round that damaged reputations and decimated finals hopes. Not only did a goal review farce sink Adelaide and further dent the battered commodity known as the integrity of the competition, a string of shock results in the penultimate round has largely robbed the AFL of a fairy-tale lead-in to the finals series.The suspense is not completely killed off as flag contenders jostle for position but the final round of the season is not the blockbuster envisaged earlier...
When the AFL can negotiate a billion dollar TV deal but can’t tell us whether a goal is a goal, fans get dudded and players ask: what’s the point?As far as the AFL is concerned, every problem can be solved. Everything can be measured, conquered, spun and sold. Everything can be ameliorated with a snappy press conference, a diversionary thought bubble or a long lunch.It doesn’t always work like that, of course. The game itself operates in the grey zone. The way it’s funded and administered is built on conflicts of interest, on give and take, on taking a progressive stance one minute and cosying up to the likes of Lachlan Murdoch the next. On any given day, the governing...
Only the ‘hairy hand of God’ can stop Carlton riding this winter wave of hot form all the way to finalsWith scores level, light rain falling, and the sporting nation’s collective tachycardia finally easing post-Matildas, Patrick Cripps licked and rubbed his palms, surveyed his centre square kingdom and went to work. In the space of 45 seconds, he twice pushed off Christian Petracca, twice found Paddy Dow by hand and twice set up Carlton goals. A few minutes later, he eschewed the deep dump, lowered his eyes and feathered a ball to Charlie Curnow, who converted from long range.Cripps has played better quarters. He’s played quarters where he’s put the entire team on his back. He’s played quarters where he’s...
By trusting tagger Finn Maginness, Hawks coach Sam Mitchell gifted every AFL team a blueprint on how to do itThere’s a chapter in Tony Wilson’s book about the 1989 Grand Final that focuses on Scott Maginness, Hawthorn’s young chiropractic student slated to play on Geelong’s Gary Ablett. The Cats star was in murderous touch, fresh from a preposterous eight-goal performance in the Preliminary Final. “You’re wanting to not make a fool of yourself,” Maginness tells Wilson. “You want all those things you’ve always dreamed about, but know at any point it could all go horribly pear shaped.”He arrives home and tells his two brothers who he’s playing on. “Oh shit,” they say in unison. Continue reading...