Round 23 – Sydney Swans v Hawthorn
Friday 30 August 2013, ANZ Stadium
Rough play
I feel sick. I’ve felt sick since about 8.30pm on Friday night. Sure the Hawks turned on a stirring final quarter burst for an impressive victory over Sydney in Sydney. And sure we secured top spot on the ladder, but Buddy’s report for a bump on Malceski prevented me from enjoying any of it.
Just waiting for the verdict left me feeling ill for the entire weekend. It was like having unbridled sex with a lascivious beauty only to discover that the condom has broken – you’ve had the exhilaration but all you’re left with is the anxiety.
Not that Malceski didn’t deserve a tap after kicking the winning goal in last year’s Grand Final, but in a dead rubber (as opposed to a broken one), when in all likelihood we were always going to be playing Sydney again the following week, there was simply no need for any bumping, late or otherwise. Pat him on the back, ask him for beard grooming tips and get on with the match – that’s all that was required. Or better still, try and smother the ball. Just an idea.
Rarely, you suspect, has a team finishing the home and away season on top been left feeling quite so flat leading into the finals. And now we have to play Sydney again, this time without Buddy while they bring in Tippet.
There is a school of thought that Hawthorn is better, or at least as good without Buddy, but regular readers of this blog will know I don’t subscribe to such tosh. What team could be improved by removing the best player in the competition? I remain in a state of deep stress about our first final. Nothing that some unbridled sex with a lascivious beauty wouldn’t relieve mind you, but I can’t help feeling that in that one split second, even if Malceski’s jaw wasn’t fractured, Hawthorn’s premiership campaign might have been.
Rough plays!
On the other hand, we do have The Golden Rough! – our deserving Coleman medalist for 2013!
The Rough! kicked 4 goals on Friday night to secure not only the medal but victory for Hawthorn. His first – and our first, as is often the case – came from a strong mark in front of goal after Buddy spotted him up with a perfectly weighted kick from the centre circle.
His second came in the third quarter when Savage bombed long to the goal square and The Rough! shot up with an impressive, balletic vertical leap to take the grab. The resulting goal brought us back to within 10 points.
The third came in the final quarter and put us in front. Waiting under a long kick forward, The Rough! worked his opponent under the ball which bounced behind them. The Rough! swung his boot at it indiscriminately, nearly beheading The Poo who was dashing past to take possession, which he did, and handballed back to The Rough!, who slid it through to put us in front.
His fourth came barely a minute later after a ball up near our goal. The Rough! took the ball from a Swans tap while simultaneously dislodging a couple of Sydney barnacles and barged through the pack into an open goal. Glorious.
Who doesn’t love a bit of Rough!
If I’m allowed a quibbling note, I think the medal for leading goal kicker should be renamed on the basis that Essendon has brought such shame upon the competition that no major award should bear the name of one of their players. Let’s see…Hudson, Peck, Dunstall, Moncrieff, Franklin – just throwing in a few names for consideration.
It’s Time!
In truth the Hawks were outplayed for most of the night, trailing by around three goals for the vast majority of the game. And by more than four at one stage in the second quarter. In the language of the election campaign, we were languishing in the polls. Or to adopt the ALP’s campaign slogan, we needed ‘a new way’ (the ALP marketing team seemingly having forgotten that it’s actually they who have been in power these last few years).
This was the second consecutive week the Hawks had slipped behind by more than four goals. While we came back to win on both occasions, it’s concerning that we’re getting into this position in the first place.
After poor games in the Preliminary and Grand finals last year, Hawthorn people have been at pains to talk about the importance of pacing our performance this season and being primed to peak in September. Well, we’re here now so to quote a more famous and slightly punchier ALP slogan from the past, ‘It’s Time!’
Real Solutions. Real Change.
The game picked up towards the end of the third quarter with Hawthorn trailing by 21 points. From that moment, Buddy kicked a goal from 50, Savage kicked long for The Rough! to mark, and Sewell won a hard ball, got it to Mitchell who snapped a left foot goal. Suddenly we were back within 4 points.
An outrageous decision against Lake gifted Sydney another goal, but after that, Breust wrenched the ball from a pack and handballed to the Poo who snagged another one.
In the final quarter Hawthorn completely dominated, kicking 3.2 to zero in the opening minutes, including a goal to Anderson after a strong tackle was rewarded, and two to The Rough! as highlighted above.
It was exhilarating to watch and my cries of Rough!!! must have echoed across the neighbourhood.
In what is hopefully a sign of what we can expect in September; Hodge, Mitchell, Sewell, Burgoyne, Roughead and Birchall began to influence every contest. Real leaders providing ‘Real solutions’ and ‘real change’ to quote the Liberal party campaign slogan (in the interests of political balance of course). These are true leaders standing up for what’s important…a Hawthorn win! If we could be confident our political aspirants from either side would exert half the doggedness and determination our Hawks showed in the final quarter, we’d perhaps have a little more confidence in the outcome of Saturday’s election.
The game ended on a high. After Parker pegged one back for the Swans, Breust and Gunston both took marks and kicked accurately to get our lead out beyond three goals. And by the end, like some maverick from the Wikileaks party or Palmer United getting in on preferences, even Brian Lake got on the end of a Birchall pass and kicked a long set shot to settle the match.
Final scores: Hawthorn 17 10 112 d Sydney Swans 15 4 94
What we learned: well, several things actually: firstly, the brown back jumper teamed with the brown shorts looks very urban chic, very now. I’m all for this look to continue.
Thanks to Bruce McAvaney, we also know that no one in the history of the AFL/VFL has ever retired on 322 games. Bruce delivered this bombshell revelation apropos of Jude Bolton’s current game count, noting in passing of course that as Jude would, in all likelihood, be playing again next week, then neither would he be retiring on 322 games. It makes you wonder how people understood football pre-Bruce.
In previewing the first week of the finals, Caro said on Footy Classified on Monday night that although Richmond has seldom beaten Carlton in recent times (just once in their past 10 meetings) they tend to beat them in finals.
And this is true: of their most recent 13 finals, Richmond has won 9, Carlton just 3 and there was one draw.
Of course the most recent of these matches was in 2001, when current captain, Trent Cotchin, was just 11 years old. The other 12 meetings took place between 1967 and 1982. Of the current playing list, only Chris Newman was actually alive for any of these matches, and even then he was only four months old at the time of the 82 Grand Final.
I like Caro’s thinking, and call me a boring empiricist if you wish, I just think that matches played between the current groups of players (i.e. the most recent 10 games) might be a better guide to the likely outcome this weekend than matches played between 1967 and 1973, when none of the current players were actually alive.
What we already knew, but didn’t want to admit: The game is not what it was. Football purists have this season been mourning that the bump is dead and lamenting the loss of this sound defensive strategy. The bump is one thing, but it seems now that even more enduring and dearly-held traditions are under threat from namby-pamby, do-gooder, politically correct modern administrators – I speak of course about setting alight dwarves at Mad Monday celebrations. Once this time-honoured tradition goes the game simply won’t be what it was. Just like cricket that has become so sterile that punching out the opposition’s opening batsman in a pub is now frowned upon.