Kick-to-Kick

by williamschack

 

In the very cool evening on Sunday, myself and some friends were kicking the football to each other on Elsternwick Park. We had just witnessed the drought breaking victory for the RRR/PBS Megahertz in the Community Cup. Our kick-to-kick was partly to celebrate the victory and partly to warm ourselves up. With Graveyard Train playing live on stage on centre wing, it was a lovely way to finish a great day.

A few weeks earlier I had another such experience at Victoria Park at the end of the most recent round of the Renegade Pub Footy League. I had no interest in the results of any of those games, but it was great to be at the spiritual home of the Collingwood Football Club. At the end of the day our group broke into two and kicked multiple footballs back and forth to one another in front of the Sherrin Stand. My friend Ben was enjoying himself and he said to us all: this is the best sport in the world – by a long way.

There is something so pleasurable about the simple act of having a kick-to-kick. It feels therapeutic. It might be nostalgia from childhood. It might be that when you are having a kick with friends you are truly being in the moment.
Richard Flanagan’s Man Booker Prize winning novel, The Narrow Road to the Deep North, has a great section in the beginning of the novel that depicts the very real place that kick-to-kick holds in the Australian culture. The protagonist, Dorrigo Evans, leaps up to take a mark above his combatants and immediately wins the respect of his peers. It is a fine piece of writing by one of Australia’s finest writers.

Of all the things that the AFL changed in 2015 to re-engage fans, the most successful has been the reintroduction of kick-to-kick after the game on Sundays. It was the simplest of the changes, which is part of the reason for its success. It was the most obvious one to win over fans, as anyone who can remember taking part in the practice before it was banned looks back on that time with fondness. I can’t remember exactly when it was banned, but somewhere along the way it stopped and then it just became one of those things we used to do before football was referred to as the ‘football industry’.

I always assumed that it was stopped because of the advancement of groundskeeping. I assumed that having thousands of people running on the field at the same time would cause damage to the surface that was unacceptable for modern conditions. It turns out that this was only part of the reason. I was shocked when I learned that factor was because the league was receiving too many liability claims from fans for being hit in the head with a football.

It is a sad indictment on Australian society that people would try and take advantage of such a simple of act of pleasure for financial gain. It would be great if our legal system would allow a defence on the grounds of stupidity. It would be great if our legal system could simply advise people that if they’re concerned about being hit in the head by a football, then don’t willingly walk onto a field where thousands of footballs are being kicked. Thankfully the league has now reorganised its insurance in a way that makes kick-to-kick viable.

The first game this year in which I experienced the post-match kick-to-kick was after the Richmond v Collingwood game in round 7. Richmond had just beaten Collingwood by 5 points after being behind by 4 goals early in the game. Collingwood fans had much reason to be disappointed, but after the game thousands of Tigers and Pies fans ran onto the ground to kick the football together. I met up with a Richmond friend in the pocket at the Punt Road end. He was with his family, including his young Tiger loving nephew and his friends. There were Collingwood fans in the group, but the memory of the loss seemed to have quickly left them as they ran around kicking the ball. Everyone looked happy. I guess that is what football is for.

Juddy: All Things Must Pass

by patrickmolan

On Saturday afternoon I was at Doomben racecourse in Brisbane enjoying the Sunshine State’s biggest race day of the year, the Stradbroke Handicap. During the day news filtered through from some source or another that Carlton were giving Adelaide a run for their money but Chris Judd had been taken to hospital. Details were sketchy, first it was a concussion, then one of his troublesome shoulders but finally the powers at be settled on a knee injury. At the time it didn’t seem particularly significant, I showed some slight concern but then returned to my beer and once again buried my nose in the form guide in search of an elusive winner. As the afternoon evolved hazily into evening, as days at the races so often do, more news filtered through. Judd had done an ACL, the most dreaded of all the footballing injuries, and would need a reconstruction. Considering most expected this season to be Judd’s last the unfortunate situation led most to reach an obvious conclusion: Juddy was done.

Christopher Dylan Judd literally burst onto the AFL scene in 2002. He played the first game of the season for East Perth and the story, perhaps apocryphal but amusing nonetheless, goes that the then coach, Tony Micale, said during the post match presentations that he hoped everyone had enjoyed watching Chris play that day because he’d never play for East Perth again. Proving Micale correct, Judd made his AFL debut the following week and it is unlikely any player has ever constructed a better debut season. Judd did not just contribute, he did not just play his role, he dominated. Few had ever seen anyone who was so quickly able to turn a game from the middle of the ground. Historically in the AFL and VFL the true match winners are the key forwards. Brown, Brereton, Franklin, Kernahan, Carey, Ablett and Lockett are men who did it regularly throughout their respective careers but someone forgot to tell Judd that this was not his place.

In his first season, he finished third in West Coast’s best and fairest, in his second season this was improved to runner up and in his third season he won the first of his five club champion awards as well as the first of his two Brownlow medals. On the night he was handed his first Brownlow, he was just two weeks removed from celebrating his 21^st birthday…just let that sink in for a moment.

His trademark explosiveness made him universally liked and revered and the sight of West Coast’s number 3 guernsey bursting clear of a congested pack became one of the most exciting sights in the land. Opposition players would thrust hands out in a feeble attempt to halt the superstar and curse as they came up with nought but thin air. Combatants hated playing against him and opposition fans feared what he might do to their team, but with Judd there was always an element of awe from friend and foe alike. It felt at times as if every fan and player in the stadium stopped what they were doing and watched as Judd grabbed the ball and stared in anticipation at what he would do next, truly, there had never been anyone like Chris Judd before.

In September of 2007, Judd – by that stage a premiership captain, 2 x All Australian, 2 x best and fairest winner, AFLPA MVP, Norm Smith Medal and Brownlow Medal winner – announced he would be leaving West Coast and returning home to Melbourne. However, whilst Judd was obviously the best player in the competition, he now came with an asterisk beside his name. 2007 had been an odd season for the champ in that he polled Brownlow votes in the first eight games of the season before he was gradually worn down and then almost crippled by the dreaded osteitis pubis. The last few weeks of the season witnessed the sad sight of a player who could barely move from the goal square and was unable kick the ball more than 20 metres. One of Judd’s teammates, Dean Cox (himself a champion of the game), wrote in his biography that when the surgeon opened Judd up in the offseason he was amazed he was able to walk, let alone try and play, the damage to his groins was so horrendous.

It quickly became clear that there were only three clubs with a realistic chance of recruiting the best player in the competition but what were Carlton, Collingwood and Melbourne really bidding for? Would they get a champion or the shadow of one? History tells us that Judd went to Carlton, the club I so happened to support, and he arrived with great fanfare. The Blues were slowly emerging from the darkest period in the club’s history; in 105 seasons we had never won a wooden spoon, between 2002 and 2007, we won three of the bastards. Between Judd, new club president Dick Pratt and several young and talented kids, there was hope at Princes Park again.

Concerns that Judd was past his best were quickly neutralized. He wasn’t quite the same explosive midfielder that had fled the drug ravaged West Coast Eagles but he was still an imperious figure. Instead of speed he now used strength, will and cunning to defy opponents. His incredible awareness and handball became powerful weapons. One Saturday, early in his tenure, Judd plucked the footy from amongst a pack of players and somehow fired a tracer bullet handball over his left shoulder to Marc Murphy. No one expected the maneuver was possible, least of all Murphy, and he fumbled the ball out of bounds. I clearly remember the stare that Judd gave Murph, it was similar to the look Michael Jordan so often gave his Bulls teammates throughout the late 80s and 90s, a stare that said “if you’re going to run out in the same colours as me lad, you best learn to keep up”.

Perhaps the soundest evidence of Judd’s greatness is that he was great as two different players. The West Coast Judd and Carlton Judd were required to play two different roles and yet both won numerous awards. Respected football journalist Jake Niall today wrote that the West Coast Judd could be likened to Cassius Clay: dazzling, precocious, classy and seemingly unstoppable. The Carlton Judd however, is the Muhammed Ali: perhaps not quite as explosive and as light on his feet, but impossibly strong for his size and possessed of wit and will. It is a beautiful comparison.

Many have said in recent times that, due to Josh Kennedy, West Coast got the better of the Judd trade. In my opinion there is no more ignorant opinion in modern sport. Carlton did not need a forward who kicks mountains of goals against mediocre teams to lead it out of its darkest days, it needed a superstar in every sense of the word. Carlton needed someone who would inspire members to flock back, sponsors to sign lucrative deals and a playing list completely bereft of confidence to believe again. Kennedy is a good player and he may one day be a great one but to think he could have become the leader that Judd did at Carlton is beyond fanciful and bordering on ludicrous.

Whilst Judd the player was perhaps incomparable, Judd the man is perhaps even more so. He is exceptionally intelligent, honest, pragmatic and realistic. He has almost habitually offered interesting views on social topics, a trait not often concomitant with footballers. His odd suspensions after the ‘chicken wing’ and ‘pressure point’ incidents seemed only to add to his mystery and intrigue and add more footnotes to an already anfractuous public life. It made for a fascinating package. During his 2010 Brownlow Medal acceptance speech he said football was “make believe” and nothing more than “a self indulgent pastime” before going on to praise ordinary Australians as “the real heroes” in society. He felt footballers should be merely footballers, and nothing more. Many of the comments he made would not even be understood, let alone uttered, by his peers, but that was Chris Judd because, as former West Coast president Trevor Nisbett said today, “he was his own man”.

Judd will never coach an AFL team and he will almost certainly never be seen in the media, it is not his way. Football never defined him, it was merely a part of him, almost a hobby that he happened to be exceptionally good at. I think this is why I admire him more so than I have ever admired any other sportsman, because he didn’t want to be admired as a sportsman. I found his interviews philosophical, honest and almost paradoxical in that it seemed impossible that one man could be so driven to succeed but also so seemingly at ease with failure. When Judd spoke I listened. There weren’t any ‘one week at a times’ or ‘we’ve got to work harders’ such as we hear from most athletes who bumble through interviews clutching at clichés. There was humour, intelligence and, quite often, cold hard truths. He was a player who deserved the grandest of exits, but a man who almost certainly didn’t want one. During his final press conference there was almost relief, perhaps relief that this injury had forced his hand and made up his mind up for him. Perhaps an exit of this nature is appropriate for Judd. He once wrote that he loved football but hated being a footballer and it seems a safe bet to suggest that he would prefer to slip out the back door and disappear quietly into the night rather than riding gloriously and spectacularly into the golden sunset to stentorian applause.

We can never expect any young men to play the game the way Chris Judd played it, that would be unfair and unreasonable. We can hope though, that the young men who will now carry the AFL torch attempt to emulate his humility, intelligence, leadership and sense of community. There will be numerous tributes written to Judd over the next few days but sometimes the simplest and shortest tributes are the most poignant and appropriate. Few players are as loved and respected as Robert Murphy of the Western Bulldogs who on the day of Judd’s retirement stated in his Twitter tribute that he “was the player we all wanted to be”, perhaps he should have replaced the word ‘player’ with the word ‘man’.

On Saturday afternoon the greatest footballer I have ever observed received a career ending knee injury, but at the Doomben races the bar kept serving beer and the patrons kept carousing, the punters kept betting and the bookies kept collecting cash, eventually we all returned home and the world carried on as if nothing had changed. One suspects that the seemingly ever pragmatic and realistic Chris Judd wouldn’t have it any other way.

Shit People at the Footy Say: Again

by williamschack

Last week I wrote about the booing of Adam Goodes when I should have been studying for an upcoming university exam. This week I have been much more diligent – although I found myself at times watching strange things on YouTube such as the premiere epsiode of Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush – and I haven’t had enough spare time to write a proper article.
A few weeks ago I published the inaugural ‘Shit People at the Footy Say’ article, and since then I have heard a few more statements that warrant retelling. So to make up for the absence of a proper article this week I figured now would be a good time to share these with my very few readers. Once again, I am not condoning or condemning this behaviour, I am merely documenting Shit People at the Footy Say:

It’s not looking good at all.

– The young man who sits behind me at home games like to give a constant assessment on the state of the play throughout the game. He said this in a very understated manner as Geelong kicked their 11th goal to put them up by 10 goals.

You’re the one who drank three beers and then drove.

– Young child to his angry father. This one didn’t actually happen at the football, but I heard it on the train on the way to the game. The father then told his son to shut up. Nothing like a day at the footy to bring people together.

Hey Batchelor! You’re ugly, mate.

– Collingwood fan to Jake Batchelor from Richmond. I think it was the same guy who told Joe Daniher he was tall and ugly on ANZAC Day.

Hey Dusty! Don’t snort that line mate!

– Aggressive Collingwood fan to Dustin Martin as he took a mark just near the boundary line.

Why don’t you go to the optometrists umpire?…You’ve got no hair on your head so it can’t be that!

– Collingwood to an umpire last weekend. It doesn’t read that well but for some reason it sounded hilarious when it was said.

Hey Waite! You’re the worst human in the world!

– Me to Jarrad Waite last weekend. He makes me very angry whenever I watch him play.

Marry me, Swanny!

– Me as Dane Swan took a mark late in the last quarter before kicking a goal to put us back in front. Last Sunday’s game was very emotional and I lost my composure.

I will keep on trying to record these comments over the coming rounds. It is difficult to remember to do so in the heat of the moment. Remember to send any to me if you ever hear some good ones. Until next time.

What Are You Booing For?

by williamschack

In recent times there has been a lot of debate regarding the booing of Adam Goodes at football games. There are some who feel that there is a racial element to the booing; there are some who feel that it is based on nothing other than the way he plays. Given that it is Indigenous round this weekend, it’s important to consider the debate. And it is important that we’re able to have a discussion about it without people being accusatory and defensive.

The first thing to acknowledge is that booing has been a part of football for a long time. For better or worse, crowd involvement in spurring your team on or upsetting the opposition team is entrenched in our game. There are people – like my mother – who feel that there never should be any booing at any time because ‘it’s just so mean’. Mum would prefer it to be like tennis where everyone is silent so that the players can concentrate and then everyone politely claps after every score. If there ever was a time when Australian football was like that, it ended in about 1858.
I’ve never been one for booing too much at a game. Usually, the only time I do is when a player is lining up for a shot at goal. Sometimes I yell ‘woo’ intermittently throughout their run up and occasionally I yell ‘chewy on your boot’ just before they kick. Sometimes it makes them miss; sometimes it doesn’t.
I have nothing against booing as a tactic, however, and I would engage in it myself but I am usually too stressed and distracted to participate. I am no saint at the football, as people who have attended games with me would probably know. Among other things, I have called for the end of Joel Selwood’s life in 2012 (a touch over the top), told Michael Hurley he had the worst hair in the league (very true), and hurled some sort of abuse at Jarrad Waite regarding his frailty as he limped off the field with yet another injury (I think I stand by that one). I am not coming into this debate from the position where I believe everyone should be mild mannered and reserved at the football, but there are times when crowd behaviour can make me feel uncomfortable and make me wonder if we’re doing the right thing.

One of those occasions was when Jobe Watson was continually booed in 2013 after admitting on television that he took AOD9604. Watson was strong enough to handle the booing, but he was visibly emotional after the Eagles game following the revelation. It never sat well with me that the crowd targeted him like that, and as it turns out the booing was completely unwarranted as Watson and his teammates were never suspended for taking AOD9604.
Another occasion was when the Sydney Swans crowd booed Darren Jolly in the 2012 Preliminary Final. Jolly, an ex-Sydney player, left the Swans at the end of 2009 with the full support of the club as his wife was suffering post-natal depression and needed to be closer to her family. There are not many more understandable reasons for leaving a football club than that.
And another occasion that crowd behaviour has sat uneasy with me is the recent booing of Adam Goodes.

I don’t particularly like Adam Goodes as a footballer. My reasons for disliking players are usually irrational, and Goodes is no exception. The main reason is that commentators, particularly Bruce McAvaney, get overly excited whenever he does anything good on the field. This particularly annoys me when Sydney is playing Collingwood as Goodes almost always plays well against us. This is the same reason I don’t like Chris Judd, even though I have never heard Judd say a bad word or act in an arrogant manner. The common thread with these two players is that they are both great players, both have won premierships, both have won two Brownlow Medals and they both don’t play for Collingwood. So there is a strong amount of jealousy and tall poppy syndrome involved my dislike for them. But I respect them both as people.

The argument surrounding the booing of Goodes seems to be about 3 things: people don’t like the way he plays; that he pointed out a young girl in the crowd after she racially abused him; and that he undeservedly won the Australian of the Year award.
The first defence used is that people have been booing at the football since its inception and that it is ridiculous to say that you cannot boo just one player. No one is saying that fans aren’t allowed to boo at the football, so that defence is not worth analysing.

The point regarding his style of play is also not really worth arguing – you either like the way he plays or you don’t. Opinion usually depends on which side you support, much like the argument surrounding Joel Selwood’s style of play. People claim that Goodes slides into the play too much, plays for free kicks and whinges to umpires. I’ve seen him do all of these things, but regardless of your opinion, his career stacks up against most in the modern game, and that is perhaps part of the reason why people take a particular dislike to him.

The point that is most perplexing in this debate is that he should not have pointed out the young Collingwood fan who racially abused him. The argument is that she was young and he should not have humiliated her on national television. Firstly, when he initially made the decision to point her out, he was unaware of her age. That is irrelevant, however, for she racially abused him. What was his alternative? To cop yet another racial attack on the chin? To take it in his stride that someone had just suggested that people of Aboriginal decent are less evolved than Caucasians? All Goodes did was point out a person who made a racial attack on a player, just like the fellow members of the crowd are encouraged to do.
The incident was magnified as it was on national television, but in the second it took for Goodes decide he would point out the perpetrator it is unrealistic to expect him to think about how this would affect her. Goodes was the victim in that incident, not her.
The next day when speaking to the media Goodes stressed that this was not about blaming or punishing the young girl. She was unaware that what she did was wrong, she now knew, she had apologised and he had accepted her apology. The incident was handled in the way you would hope. I don’t understand any argument to the contrary.

The other point in the debate, that Goodes didn’t deserve to win Australian of the Year, is also perplexing. First of all, since when does anyone care who wins that award? It is not something I have ever held in great esteem, but for the purposes of this article I had a look at the selection criteria to determine if Goodes was a worthy the recipient.
The first criteria is that the winner have demonstrated excellence in their field. Goodes’ career of 2 premierships, 4 Grand Finals, 2 Brownlow Medals, 3 club best and fairest awards, 4 time All Australian and over 350 games obviously fits this criterion.
The second is that they have made a significant contribution to the Australian community. Goodes has done this with extensive community work including setting up a charity organisation with Michael O’Loughlin that grants scholarships to young Indigenous students, working as an ambassador for the anti-domestic violence organisation White Ribbon, and been a consistent spokesperson on the rights of Indigenous Australians.
The final selection criteria is that the winner be an aspirational role model for the Australian community. See above.
People argue that there were more worthy winners than Goodes, and there probably were, but that argument doesn’t hold much weight given that it can be said of every winner of every subjective award ever.

Of the three main points that I usually hear as a reason for not liking Adam Goodes, and therefore booing him, I can only really agree with the logic on one of them. (I much prefer my reason regarding the over excitement of Bruce McAvaney). It is important to note, however, that the point regarding his style of play is rarely made without reference to the other two, and those two points are inextricably linked to his race. It is also important to note that the booing didn’t become noticeable until round 9 2014 against Essendon, and that was after the incident with the young girl and after he was awarded Australian of the Year.

A friend of mine who disagrees with me in this debate recently liked a post on a Hawthorn fan page on Facebook that stated there was confusion surrounding the reason Adam Goodes was being booed. It said the three points that I have refuted in this article, and also stated that Hawthorn has many great Indigenous players and therefore that proves they aren’t being racist. The last point is irrelevant, for of course you will cheer for an Indigenous player in your side if he is playing great. Every team has had quality Indigenous players in their history, despite this there is still racial abuse in the crowd.
After the administrator made that post on the page, they then had to block many Hawthorn fans from the page and delete their racist comments. They were told they were not wanted at that fan page.
On the night of round 9 2014 when Essendon fans began this recent bout of booing, an Essendon fan had to be ejected from the ground for racially abusing Goodes.
I am sure that the fans who were blocked from the Hawthorn fan page and the Essendon fan who was ejected from Etihad stadium that night have participated in the booing of Adam Goodes.
And that is the point. Not everyone booing Adam Goodes is doing so because they are racist, but there can be no denying that some people are. People have been getting so defensive about be branded a racist for booing Goodes, but they are completely misinterpreting what is being said, which is that there is a racial element to the booing. People feel that they are being forced to like Adam Goodes and that people are saying that they are racist if they don’t. No one is saying that at all. You’re free to dislike Adam Goodes. As I said, I don’t particularly like him as a footballer. But Martin Flanagan put it best on AFL 360 when he said that you might be booing Goodes in jest or for genuine football reasons, but you need to understand that you’re providing a cloak for those who are booing for other reasons. And you need to ask yourself that if you are doing that, then is booing him really worth it?

Poetry in Motion: Why I Love Pendles

by amac12

I don’t think that Anthony Hudson is a bad commentator, but he’s not my favourite. However, I did enjoy his description of Scott Pendlebury’s (Pendles) 3rd goal on Saturday as “poetry in slow motion”. It’s not the most well constructed phrase, as poetry usually doesn’t travel at any particular pace, but the essence of the expression was that the piece of play was a) beautiful and b) at a tempo slower than the game is usually played. It really does sum up the way in which Pendles plays his football. Beautifully and slowly. At high school we’d always comment in our lunch time soccer games how our friend Matija always had “time on the ball”. “He’s got time on the ball”, Boob always used to say. And it was true. It just seemed as if he had more time than anyone else out there. A little step here, a shimy there, and he was out of trouble and making the perfect pass. Pendles is the same. I know this isn’t a new observation, in fact it’s been done to death. “It’s obviously his basketball background”, a commentator would always say. It’s well publicised that Paddy Mills took the AIS scholarship that Pendles turned down to play footy. I think it’s worked out well for both of them and that’s nice. I’m just glad Pendles chose footy because he’s brought me and every other Collingwood supporter so much joy and so little disappointment.

Pendles was pick 5 in the 2005 draft. Picks 1 and 2 that year were Marc Murphy and Dale Thomas. 3 was Xavier Ellis and 4 Josh Kennedy (FWD). Other top 10 highlights included Beau Dowler (6) and Jarrad Oakley-Nicholls (8). Who the hell was Hawthorn’s recruiting manager that year? Jesos. Picks 3 and 6 and you get the After Dark Specialist and Beau Dowler. Anyway, it’s clear now that the 20:20 hindsight draft would have Pendles as a streets ahead of the rest pick 1. (Thomas, Pendles and X were all from Gippsland Power. In what parallel universe was Xavier Ellis EVER better at footy, at any stage of his life, than Scott Pendlebury?) He made is debut in 2006 in the Brisbane game where Bucks went forward and kicked 6 of the most sexual goals you will ever see. I didn’t remember this until they showed it last week, but he kicked a goal with his first kick, from a set shot no less!

It wasn’t until the away game in Sydney in 2006 when he really came to mine and my fellow Collingwood Brother Nick’s attention. We had no chance going into that game. Our entire defence was Shane Wakelin and a very, very young Tyson Goldsack. Sydney were set to dominate. At a crucial stage in the last quarter when the Swans were on the march, the ball was in dispute in the middle. Paul Williams got it and Pendles just stole it from him. It was amazing.

It was an incredible piece of play for such a young player. It was then that we knew we had someone special.

He played a blinder in the extra time semi-final in 2007 against West Coast in Perth, and late in extra time Marty Clarke kicked the ball into space inside 50, and Pendles stormed away to kick the sealer. It may have been the first time I screamed “I love you, Pendles”. It certainly wouldn’t be the last.

I love Pendles because you can always count on him to play well. I can remember 2 poor games he’s had. One was 2 weeks ago against Richmond. The other was the first 2010 Grand Final when he’d had gastro all week and had lost 5kgs in the process. The next week in the replay, he won the Norm Smith. Enough said.

I love Pendles because he kicks sexy goals like this one, on the run from 50m. He kicked an extremely similar goal to get us going in the game against Adelaide last year (which we ended up losing, but it was still a good goal).

Sometimes, he even kicks them on his right.

I love Pendles because he is a leader that leads by example by being the best, all the time. It’s critical that with our group of young up and coming players, they have a leader to look up to who is the best player at the club and has played 200 games of exquisite football. 

(what about that goal from about 1:00)

I love Pendles because he’s fucking boring and all he does is hang our with his ludicrously hot fiance and his lovely Labrador, Lenni. Dead set, the guy is best mates with Jason Gram and he goes for the Lakers. How much more dull can you get?

I love Pendles because he’s a Labor man.

I love Pendles because it’s really fun at the footy to say “ohh, Pendles!” with the emphasis on the “Pen!”. Maybe you’ve got to be there.

I love him, I want to Boof him, get him up here. I’ll leave you with this.

 

 

How Not To Play Football

by williamschack

On Sunday afternoon I lay down on my bed to watch the final quarter of Carlton v Brisbane. I had vaguely been paying attention to the game as I spent time with my family on Mother’s Day. Rarely has a game shown such little promise and from what I saw it certainly lived up to its billing as the worst game of the round. It seemed like every time I looked at the screen either team was giving the ball to the opposition under almost no pressure. By the time I started watching the game Brisbane were in front and looked likely winners. The Blues’ managed to stay in the game, however, and with one minute to go they still had a chance to win.

Bryce Gibbs handpassed the ball to Chris Judd on centre wing. He quickly handpassed forward to Nick Graham who ran and then kicked inwards to Liam Jones who bravely ran back with the flight of the ball and marked in front of goal about 40 metres out. Carlton was down by 9 points. There was 48 seconds left on the clock.
Up until the point the umpire blew his whistle to signal that he had paid a mark, Jones had done everything right. After that, everything went fantastically wrong.

Firstly, he walked back to prepare for his kick with his back facing the goals. It was hard to tell from the TV vision if there was anyone free but judging from the reaction of the commentators there probably wasn’t. Regardless if there was or wasn’t, Jones’ wouldn’t know because he didn’t even bother to check. I can remember being told in junior football by my coach who taught me no other lesson than that you should always face the play immediately after taking a mark. Some people might say that it is a good sign that he didn’t check as he was showing he was confident he was the man for the moment. If that is the case then you had better deliver.

Jones then made his way back from the mark in a bizarrely slow manner. It was as though he thought he was in the opposite game situation and Carlton was in front by 9 points and he was trying to wind down the clock. About half way back he came to his senses and started to move faster. He spun around and began to quickly backpedal.

He then picked up a blade of grass as though he was going to throw it in the air to test the direction of the wind in the enclosed stadium. I am unsure if picking up grass is a part of his normal routine, but he did so on this occasion. Strangely, once he had the blades of grass in his hand he decided to not do anything with them. He did not throw the grass in the air to assess the non-existent breeze, he just held it in his hands for a few seconds before letting the grass fall back onto the ground.

By the time he began his run up there was 31 seconds left. 35% of the remaining game time had been used by Jones slowly walking back from the mark, then quickly running back, then picking up a piece of grass and holding it for a few seconds before dropping it back onto the ground.

By the time he kicked the ball there was 24 seconds left. He had used up 50% of the game time that remained when he initially took the mark. The ball came of the side of his boot and headed toward the point post. It never looked like a goal and was eventually called out on the full.

The camera panned to Carlton fans in the crowd who were laughing and shaking their heads. I almost felt sorry for them. The camera then showed Mick in the coaches box looking through the glass in disbelief before slightly shaking his head. There was a sense of resignation in his demeanour. No screaming and yelling, just an acceptance that there was nothing he could do if his players kicked like that. After the whole ordeal had finished there was only 19 seconds left and Carlton had no chance of winning the game.

Even if Jones had kicked the ball straight through the middle of the goals, he would have left the team with barely enough time to kick another. Brisbane would have flooded the backline and a quick kick from the centre clearance and a mark inside 50 for Carlton would have been very unlikely. But that hypothetical is irrelevant, because Jones didn’t kick a goal, he kicked it out of bounds on the full.

As soon as the siren sounded the media started asking questions about Malthouse’s future. If Carlton stays true to its word and doesn’t sack him before the end of the season, the football public will have to get used to the incessant questions about his position every time Carlton loses, because judging by this performance Carlton won’t be winning too many games.

I understand that it is unfair for me to single out Jones because there are so many other things that contributed to the loss, but I was so genuinely shocked by that 30 seconds of football that I felt compelled to write about it. When I played football I was a mediocre player who didn’t enjoy playing, but at least I knew that if you marked the ball inside 50 late in the game and your team was behind by more than one goal, you did your very best to kick a goal as quickly as possible. I don’t understand how Liam Jones gets paid so much to play the same game yet he doesn’t know that basic principle.

There are so many things wrong at Carlton that winning that game wouldn’t really have changed much. But if they had managed to pull off an unlikely victory then it would have at least given the club some hope. Instead, Jones’ extinguished any chance they had of winning by using up almost 30 seconds in one of the worst displays of football nous that I have ever seen.
They say every cloud has a silver lining, and I guess there is one to be found for Carlton from this game. The club now has a neat 30 seconds of footage that it can show all current and future players exactly how not to play football. That is where things are at for Carlton in 2015. 1995 was 20 years ago.

A Legend of Our Game

by williamschack

Tonight a record that has stood since 1927 will be broken. Mick Malthouse, coach of Footscray, West Coast, Collingwood and now Carlton, will coach his 715^th game, surpassing Jock McHale’s long standing record. When McHale coached his last game Malthouse was not alive. He was born only a few months before McHale passed away. I have already paid tribute to Malthouse before, but given that tonight he will break a record that we thought would never be beaten, it is important that once again we consider his legacy.

Malthouse has always been a divisive figure in his coaching career. Despite all that he has achieved, whenever his name is brought up in conversation it inevitably leads to a discussion about his relationship with the media. Although it should not be a consideration when assessing his coaching ability, it would be remiss to not at least acknowledge it this week, for it is a part of the Malthouse story.
He has used the media in the past to put pressure on certain players, and he has used the media to take pressure off certain players. And there are times when he is abrasive because the question asked of him, or lack thereof, is stupid, or if he feels the journalist has an agenda, or perhaps just because he doesn’t like the journalist.
His public persona has been particularly feisty in his time at Carlton, because dealing with the media is much easier when you’re winning. He is routinely criticised for his behaviour in press conferences, but the problems at Carlton run much deeper than anything Mick can fix. Aside from recruiting Dale Thomas at a highly inflated rate, you can’t really blame Mick for much of it. So whilst it was his decision to coach again knowing the heat that would come to him should he fail, we shouldn’t let what has been a difficult period of coaching be what he is remembered for, because he has achieved so much more.

Malthouse’s record should speak for itself, but apparently it doesn’t. There are critics who argue he has only won 3 premierships in 31 years and that somehow this means he isn’t any good. Tell that to any Bulldogs, Saints or Melbourne fan. At Collingwood he lost 3, drew 1 and won 1. For a club that has won four Grand Finals in the last 78 years, and lost 17, we’ll take that. For a person who grew up just assuming he would never see Collingwood win a premiership, I’ll take that.
But for the critics still out there, read this: 715 games over 31 years and counting; 7 Grand Finals; 3 premierships; 52 finals coached at a 54% winning rate; most coached finals wins; a career winning percentage of 57; only 5 non-winning seasons in 31 years; winning seasons in all but 1 year at Footscray; winning seasons every year at West Coast; finals every year at West Coast; winning seasons in all but 3 years at Collingwood; 8 finals appearances at Collingwood.
That it is even up for debate is laughable. And that he has done all of this in the modern era when there is so much pressure on coaches’ makes it all the more commendable.

But it isn’t his remarkable record that is what makes him so great, it is the circumstances in which he achieved it. He has recently stated that looking back on his career he is most proud of the 1987 season with Footscray when the club couldn’t afford to pay its players and the stars departed. Despite this, the dogs turned their season around and missed the finals by half a game.
It is often said that he walked into a premiership team at West Coast, but the team won only 7 games the year before, and the club was forced to travel in ways that we’d never think possible these days.
At Collingwood, the premiership was clearly his shining moment, but if we’re discussing tactical and coaching nous, some of his greatest achievements didn’t end up in victory. The 2002 Qualifying Final is perhaps his finest achievement at the club. With Buckley out and the team travelling to play Port Adelaide, the minor premiers who won 5 more games than Collingwood, Malthouse caused a boil over. That led to the 2002 Grand Final loss by 9 points against one of the greatest teams of all time, with a Collingwood side that was without one of its key defenders and boasted maybe 5 players that would get a game in the opposing side.
That finals series demonstrates the great genius of Malthouse: he is able to get his players to believe in his methods and believe in themselves in a way that is perhaps irrational and can sometimes cause unthinkable upsets, and can sometimes come agonising close. Malthouse knows how to get an individual to perform at their optimum and to buy into the team ethos. Collingwood isn’t recorded as the victor in the history books of 2002; but we should never forget that Malthouse nearly pulled off one of the greatest heists in the history of the game.

There have been many great men who have coached our great game. Only 11 have coached four premierships or more. The fourth flag may have eluded Malthouse, but his standing in the pantheon of coaches should not be judged merely on the amount of premierships he won, but judged on what he did with what he had at his disposal. Nor should we judge him on his relationship with the media or the public. We should instead consider the relationships he built with his players and his staff. We should consider the levels of sustained success that he created at West Coast and Collingwood. We should consider that he has coached for 31 years in what is surely one of the most stressful jobs in the country.  And when you consider all that has been said in this article, there can be no denying that in breaking the all-time games record Mick Malthouse has confirmed his status as one of the best coaches in the history of our game.
Many Collingwood fans fell out of love with Malthouse after he agreed to coach Carlton. I did too, even though I said I would wish him well, and this is partly Collingwood’s fault and partly Mick’s fault. But I will always be thankful for what he did for my club. I look forward to the day he is no longer coaching Carlton, and Collingwood can take meaningful steps to mend the broken relationship. This Friday night, whilst we will be hoping that he loses, can perhaps be the start of that healing process. The football world can pay tribute to him and the Collingwood fans at the MCG have the chance to show him the respect he deserves. For we will be witnessing a remarkable achievement by not just a Collingwood legend, but a legend of our game.

The Year of the Fan

by williamschack

In 2014 as attendances dropped and the discontent of the football public reached unsustainable levels, the president of my football club, Eddie McGuire, declared that 2015 should be the ‘Year of the Fan’. It is no longer clear exactly what all of the years prior to this one were, but Gillon McLachlan agreed. The new fan focus of the League was met with some reservation, but it was good to know that at the very least the League was admitting it had made some mistakes.

The best thing to come from the new fan focus was that Sunday night games were scrapped. Many people dislike Eddie McGuire, but he should be commended for his public displays of disaffection regarding the Sunday night fixture of Collingwood v Carlton last season. It was farcical and the League did its best to distract us from the low crowd figure before the game but ultimately failed.
Higher quality games on Saturday afternoons at the MCG were also promised. Another positive of the new approach, however at this stage it seems to have been at the expense of quality games on a Friday night. The three Friday night games (including tonight) have been terrible matchups, and the fact that Carlton has the most Friday night games this season is a travesty.

Food prices were also constantly brought up by McLaughlin in interviews. I have never really seen food prices as an issue – when I was a kid we just brought food from home and these days I rarely eat at a game – but if it brings more people to the games then I am all for it. The marketing of $4 bucket of chips last Friday night seemed to work on a young kid behind me who screamed ‘Chippies’ when the advertisement was on the big screen. Etihad has also reduced its prices and they even went further and now allow outside-bought food into the ground. Something every other ground has allowed since football was invented.
There have also been some other commendable changes: you can now buy beer in a glass in The Outer Bar in the riff raff section of the Ponsford. I hate to think what the toffs in the members will say when they find out the commoners have access to the same facilities as them; kids can kick the footy on the ground post-game on Sundays; kids enter for free on Sundays; and there are also more curtain raisers planned for this season.

But by far the biggest focus of the new administration in this ‘Year of the Fan’ has been the ‘match day experience’ and ‘pre game entertainment’. I have never gone to a football match expecting to be entertained before the actual entertainment begins, but the league has become obsessed with it. The push for pre-game entertainment has been driven by the success of Port Adelaide’s pre-game sing-a-long of ‘Never Tear Us Apart’, but Port Adelaide has some major advantages in making such a thing work when compared to Melbourne. Firstly, the city is only divided into 2 clubs. Secondly, the stadium is a ‘boutique’ stadium compared to the MCG and much easier to fill. Thirdly, there is nothing to do in Adelaide so everyone goes to the football. Lastly, Port’s on-field resurgence coincided with the move to Adelaide Oval. No one was praising Port Adelaide when they were playing in West Lakes and covering up half of the seats with advertising. It was a perfect storm and one that can’t be repeated.

When the League encouraged others to come up with their own pre-game entertainment the Brisbane Lions thought it would be a great idea to have a lion on the field. A real, living, breathing, roaring lion. What sounds better than taking something from its natural habitat, taming it, and bringing it to a football ground in a suburb of Brisbane and having a bunch of disinterested people look at it while they wait for a game to begin?
Before the Collingwood game last Friday night there was some unlikable duo singing a bunch of contemporary pop songs to a stadium less than one third full. They were tucked away between the Ponsford and Southern Stand and if you were anywhere further than 50 metres away you probably wouldn’t have even known they were singing. It was embarrassing, even worse than Captain Carlton driving around the MCG on a hovercraft.

The obsession for the pre-game to be exciting is understandable given that there is a waning interest in the AFL and there often is a lack of excitement at the ground before each game. But the League lacks any understanding of the situation if it thinks that having some terrible performers sing a song before each game will make it better. The real reason the atmosphere is so great at Port Adelaide games is because the stadium is always full. It is difficult to fill the MCG every week, so if the AFL wants to make the atmosphere better then they need to ensure that at least the bottom level is full and then work on attracting fans to fill up the top tier.

Every week in my reserved seats I am surrounded by empty seats. And every week as I enter the aisle to get to my seat an MCG attendant checks my membership card with the fervour of a Checkpoint Charlie employee to ensure that I am not entering the reserved area with a general admission ticket. Why this should be when there are thousands of empty seats in that area is beyond me.
The League needs to develop a system where season ticket holders can on-sell their seats if they aren’t going to use them and/or can’t find anyone to give them to. The member could then get the sale price off their next membership payment, minus a cut for the League, clubs, and stadium. They should also open up reserved areas once it gets to game day to allow those areas to fill up as much as possible. There is no point having an empty seat. They could put reserved tags on those that are reserved, or if that’s too difficult then just let the fans sort it out when someone is in someone’s seat. I have never seen a fan angry when they’ve been advised they are in a reserved seat. If the reserved section is reduced this will encourage people to get there earlier so they can get a good seat.

The League has done well in at least trying to improve the game, but it needs to remember that it is the crowd that makes the atmosphere at the football great. Not music. Not tamed Lions. There is no need to try and reinvent something that has worked very well for a long time.  The best pre-game ceremony is the ANZAC Day one, and that is because it is not considered entertainment and because people want to be there to see it. There is no tackiness in the ceremony; no clutching at straws.
So on Saturday afternoon I will catch the train to Jolimont station. I will walk with thousands of other fans down the hill towards the MCG. I will feel the energy of the crowd as I walk through the turnstiles. In The Outer Bar I will buy a beer and drink it from a glass. I will then make my way to my seats in the packed bottom section of the Ponsford Stand. There will be no music except for The Last Post. The crowd will be silent, then it will cheer. The siren will sound. The ball will be bounced. And then the real entertainment will start.