Round 1, 2006

 

 

Round 1 was a week in which the football Gods were smiling, in two significant ways. First, the mainstream media finally saw the light and published footballinvective.com in its pages. Footballinvective.com extends its thanks to The Australian, who on Monday April 3 published last week’s missive regarding the Victorian Sports Minister on no less a platform than its editorial page. Yet whilst the journalistic credibility of The Australian has instantly increased in the eyes of footballinvective.com, it will still remain a card-carrying member of the lesser football media for so long as Patrick Smith continues to command space in its pages to write about everything in general, yet nothing in particular. But we do think Janet Albrechtsen is a hottie (and she’s even South Australian too).

 

The second blessing of the football Gods (of the Hindu variety) came on Friday evening, where it was karma, pure karma for Terry Wallace, as the free-flowing Dogs took their belated revenge on the man who so brazenly colberted their team in 2002. As one triumphant, vindicated, yet still oh-so-bitter doggie fan put it on 3AW talkback after the game:

“It was the best day of my life when he missed out on the Sydney job.

And it was the second best day when he got the Richmond job.

And when I saw what we did to him tonight, I just thought it couldn’t happen to a nicer bloke….

…And I just hope he’s listening to this now !” 

(emphasis added)

 

It was like watching the football equivalent of the Harlem Globetrotters in the second half, as the Doggies were once again handed an unqualified LTFL (Licence to Flagrantly Lairise), and had all the time to show off like Maurice Green after a world record. Fans at the Phone Dome could have closed their eyes and imagined they were in the Moet et Chandon vineyards in France, such was the abundance of pure champagne football on display. But whilst it’s champagne time at the Whitten Oval, it’ll be humble pie, hot tongue and cold shoulder on the menu for Plow Wallace for the rest of this this year.

 

TigerWatch, Week 1: We never thought we would see it happen, but this will be the first and last installment of TigerWatch this year, for one reason and one reason only:

 

They’ve Turned.

 

In record time.

 

All the elements of a turn were there:

1.      All the signature signs were there of a shambolic Richmond performance. Players all over the ground had about as much coherence and team work as Simon Crean and Kim Beazley, and conspiracy theories were soon alleging that the Richmond players were playing a sick April fools day joke on their supporters a day early.

2.      Talkback radio went into melt-down on Saturday morning, as angry Tiger fans lusted for blood.

3.      Richo was found roaming around the back line in the second half trying to plug gaps, sporting that horrific grimace on his face that he only reserves for such occasions, and which just confirms everyone’s thoughts that he really does have no faith in his team mates:

After radio commentators criticized Richo for abandoning the forward line, Tony Shaw (so often pilloried on footballinvective.com for his “special” comments) defended Richo with a rare piece of erudition: “Yes, but who’d want to be a forward in THAT team?” he said. Hear hear.

4.      As if on cue, supposed Richmond supporter Caroline Wilson came out of the woodwork to talk up the rumours of infighting in The Rage on Tuesday morning.

5.      Rumours abounded on Saturday morning of (yet more) boardroom dissention and even Plow himself tried to appease the unappeasable and placate the turning fans: 

"They have every right to be and I don't think there's a person down in the Richmond changerooms that doesn't feel exactly the same way," 

 

But our eyes shouldn’t be focused on the change room – they should be focused on the boardroom, and just how soon its occupants, like Woody Harrelson on ‘Natural Born Killers’, reach for their favourite well-used stainless steel utensils.

 

Yet Tiger fans were not the only bunch of volatile and monosyllabic supporters to turn this week. At the Mecca of Football (Footy Park) Port once again fell to their bogey team, the DOBM Roos, as the Shinboner Spirit was summoned to place a curse Wanganeen’s 300^th. Power fans were not happy, and let the umpires and their own team know it, prompting a glorious piece of understatement from former Port Adelaide trier Dwayne Russell: “When it comes to losing badly, yep, they’re number one.” As if to prove Dwayne’s theory, our inveterate Port correspondent Teal Coloured Glasses fired his first missive of the year from the Max Basheer Reserve:

 

Greetings readers and welcome to your first glimpse for the year of life through Teal Coloured Glasses. For each of the past four opening rounds, the view of life through that glorious blue/green hue has been an overwhelmingly positive one. Top four finishes from 2001-04 had resulted in choruses of praise from the pre-season pundits as predictions of finals and perhaps even premierships abounded.

 

Fast-forward to 2006 and those halcyon days now seem an eternity ago. The irresistible rise of the Crows under ‘Genius’ Neil Craig contrasts starkly with the sudden freefall experienced by Port since ‘Wanker’ Tony McGuiness took up his role as assistant coach. A dispirited and comprehensive exit from the finals last season at the hands of the test-tube club firmly entrenched what many had thought for a long time: Port’s rein as the number one team in town was over.

 

Clearly it was time for change. Out went familiar faces such as Primus, Show-Me-The-Money Pickett and Brett Montgomery, who on his way out proved that a Mark Latham-style bagging of his former colleagues in the media was not beneath him: accusing Mark Williams and the club in general of ‘giving up’ on the premiership for season ’06. Clearly, there was something rotten in the state of Alberton.

 

It was against this backdrop that much of Melbourne’s media deserted the Power cause. Like a swing against the Liberal Party in a South Australian election, seven of The Age’s eight footy scribes jumped off the bandwagon - foreseeing a bottom 8 finish for the hitherto unanimous pre-season September lock. What gave these Doomsday prognostications even more credence was the fact that the sole ‘expert’ to offer some hope of a post-season appearance was Robert Walls. A truly frightening thought for any supporter.

 

With so much negativity clouding the Round 1 picture, it was a pleasant surprise to see Port jump out to a 24 point lead at the 20 minute mark of the first term. Perhaps, like Mark Twain, rumours of its demise had been greatly exaggerated. Three quarters and 18 Kangaroo goals later it appeared that far from being exaggerated, the rumours may even have been understated. 

 

While a 31-15 free kick count in favour of the ‘Roos may have had the Power faithful baying for umpire blood at the final siren, their rage – although entertaining - was sadly misdirected. The fact that Gavin Wanganeen’s 300^th game was not enough to inspire a committed performance was lamentable. One usually associates this kind of lack of motivation and pride with clubs like, say, Richmond. And yet this appears to be the Port Adelaide of 2006. 

 

A trip to the SCG to take on the reining premiers in Round 2 will provide another stern test of the players’ intestinal fortitude and will shed some light on whether this rant is a manifestation of another Punt Rd trait – that of making sweeping statements after Round 1 – or whether it is justified. In which case a further Richmond habit, missing finals, may well be realised. Either way Tiger fans, I am beginning to relate.

 

At Unskilled Stadium the Cats took on the Lions and made them look like kittens. Even former champions of intimidation such as Plugger Duck Brown and Michael Voss came off second best when they attempted to rough up Geelong players, with the Big Hairy Cat putting Voss down for the count in the first quarter. Chris Johnson attempted to repeat his Ivan Drago-style breaking of Little Nicky last year by incessantly sniping Ablett jnr, but in stark contrast to Riewoldt, little Ablett just kept bouncing back up and burning him off. This should (but not necessarily will) prompt those various Riewoldt acolytes in the lesser football media to compare the relative merits of their favourite ‘potential champion’ to the fearless flair of the son of The Great Man, but don’t expect Mike Sheahan to be seeing the light anytime soon. Meanwhile, all those funny theories about Chuck Norris that have been doing the rounds should be re-worded to replace all references to Mr Norris with the words “members of the Ablett family”.

 

Junior: Too tough

 

History repeated itself in Perth on opening night as the Over Rated Football Club once again folded in a season opener. Dean “Big” Cox was outstanding for the Eagles and notched up a personal best 26 possessions for the game. Big Cox was going in hard all night and will certainly be a bit stiff if he doesn’t get the 3 Brownlow votes for his match-winning performance.

 

In a telling admission that criticism of his coaching ability is starting to bite, Grant Thomas invited Mike Sheahan into his coach’s box for the whole of the game against the Eagles, in an attempt to convince the doubters that he is fair dinkum. Yet this move is likely to prompt even more criticism. Just as governments invariably choose the most sympathetic press gallery journalists to leak stories to, Thomas chose the kindest, nay, most fawning member of the lesser football media to sell his story to. If Thomas really wanted to silence the critics he would not have invited his biggest acolyte but a skeptic such as Robert Walls. Grant Thomas giving Mike Sheahan a tour of his box is like North Vietnam hosting Jane Fonda in the 1970s, or Kim Jong Il inviting Alec Baldwin to PyongYang in “Team America”. Not much chance of impartial coverage there.

 

The spirit of Thomas must have also been in the Dons coach’s box on Saturday night, as Kevin Sheedy committed what is already likely to be one of the most curious coaching decisions of the year. After Matty Lloyd and Andrew Lovett had dominated the Don forward line in the first quarter by kicking 6 goals (Lloyd) and setting up 3 (Lovett) Sheedy decided it would be appropriate to move Lloyd to somewhere in the centre square and rotate Lovett between the bench and the backline. This allowed Big Bad Barry to kick a lazy 7 and get the Swans back into the game, with Essendon only steadying when Lloyd was allowed to play full forward again some time in the last quarter. Needless to say, even an intellectual such as Lloyd must have been confused.

 

Melbourne vindicated the pre-season musings of footballinvective.com (if not our ridiculously optimistic ladder position) by proving they really are as soft as a baby seal fur coat, by going down to the Kouta-inspired Blues. Melbourne’s dismal effort prompted this missive from the highly witty and topical After Grog Blog (nothing like a bit of mutual cross-promotion):

 

Melbourne: Still VERY soft. This year they won't win enough games to even make a fade out possible. Strictly bottom four. I suppose, technically, if you play badly from Round 1 and take the previous season into account, a complete bad season DOES constitute a fade out.

 

I was home five minutes into the last quarter, and to say I'm disappointed is an understatement. We never looked like it. But with virtually everyone bar Dennis Pagan saying a Carlton win would be a massive upset, it was a certainty Melbourne would lose. We are like that.

 

With our chronic inability to beat a flood, piss-poor work rate around the agate, lack of a top-line backman to put the clamps on other team's key players, and with Daniher been there long enough for even Danny Frawley to be able to work out Melbourne's game plan, it's time for the coach to move on. Give someone else a go, someone who understands that footy's all about contests and impact. (Like Pagan.)

 

With more important things to do in life, and a very real and tangible feeling that it's going to be a looooonng losing season, Melbourne have seen the last of me this year.

 

At the Phone Dome we witnessed another abysmal attempt at Monday night football. Fans have been voting with their feet against such a concept for 10 years now, yet like a Gary Ayres desperately shopping around for another senior coaching job, the AFL keeps trying it out.

 

What was an even and entertaining contest up until three quarter time turned into a unilaterial display of Crow Power in the last quarter, as the (gay) pride of SA kicked 5.3 to the Pies lamentable 0.0. Wayne Carey does not appear to be earning his hundred grand-plus as Collingwood’s forward line coach, as the Pie forward line was deserted for most of the last quarter (yep, not a single man in it) as the Maggies attempted increasingly desperate flooding tactics to stop the Crows’ run.

 

Perhaps Carey is too distracted by thoughts of V8 Supercars. Alternatively, maybe he was trying the famed “Paddock” game plan, with the one small oversight of forgetting to send a gun forward into it. But if the Pies had an empty paddock up forward, they had a Roo loose in their back paddock, as Mark Riciutto casually roamed the forward 50, brushing off all comers to snare a lazy 6.

 

Jason Cloke may have thought being rubbed out of the ’02 Grand Final and his dead set shocker in the ’03 decider were his two lowest moments in football, but these were surely surpassed in the second quarter when he suffered the indignity of having the dummy sold to him by Brett Burton. Burton may fly like the Birdman when he is off the ground, but when his feet are on the turf he resembles Old Man Emu. Nonetheless, he still managed a glorious piece of salesmanship against Cloke from outside 50, then nonchalantly lumbered forward to kick the goal. Shades of Eddie Hocking circa 1991, but with about 2 feet more height, half as much speech and half as much weight. As for poor Jason, it’s back to the boy band.

 

Poor old Anthony Rocca was the major victim of the Carey-Malthouse forward line evacuation policy, and spent most of the game wandering aimlessly halfway up the ground. Perhaps Rocca might have been distracted by the smells coming from the Medallion Grill, as he spent the last quarter loitering with no particular purpose on the Medallion Club wing, far away from his natural forward line habitat. Yet he can forget about any thoughts he may have had about gourmet food - Cold Pie is firmly on the menu for all of his opponents in season ’06.

 

 

Hero of the Week: Rodney Eade – Chief Justice Rocket dispensed rough justice, but oh-so-poetic justice to the unrepentant Plow. And didn’t the doggie fans love it.

 

Cult Figure of the Week: Dean “Big” Cox – stood tall all night and was never headed.

 

Clanger of the Week: Wayne Carey – ‘architect’ of Collingwood’s forward line absenteeism. No goals, no behinds, and no one at home up forward in the last quarter with the game in the balance.