Grand Final, 2006

 

 

After the epic "Poultry in Motion" Grand Final of 2005, the Swans and Eagles again shaped up on the last Saturday in September, and just like "Godfather II", the sequel turned out to be every bit as brilliant as the original. Footballinvective.com was there to observe the great game, after the usual pre-game rubbish, this time featuring a 1980s medley (which was probably fitting for the AFL's target audience of middle-aged spivs in corporate seats, who are now in their 40s and 50s and nostalgically recall the 1980s days of their youth):

 

 

Once again, the Melbourne Cricket Club showed its disdain for the great game by leaving several thousand of its seats empty. The MCC still believes in the quaint custom of members having a God-given right to turn up on the day of a big game (or, to be more precise, not turn up), even if it means the supposedly privileged members get to experience the joy of lining up at 7:00am (after they have milked the cows on their hobby farm) and then find half the seats stay empty anyway:

 

 

Meanwhile, thousands of honest battler fans begged and pleaded for tickets outside the ground (below). It was clear where the priorities of the MCC and AFL lie on Grand Final day - the MCC's clear priority is to preserve the right of its members not to attend, whilst the AFL's only concern is to get as many suited spivs as possible inside the ground, no matter how out of place they look (below):

 

Need Tickets?                                  ....ask a spiv:

 

 

Thankfully, however, the indifference of the MCC and the avarice of the AFL were over-shadowed by another epic contest between the Poultry and Porn United.

 

The Dirk Diggler all-stars were boosted by the form of second-string players such as Ashley "En" Hanson, Beau "Broken" Waters and Andrew Embley, whilst the clanger-prone Brent "Mis" Staker was wisely left out of the side. They dominated play in all positions in the first half, but by the third quarter the Viagra was beginning to wear off. Their pharmacist coach had none left to dispense, and Michael "Hydroponic" Gardiner was no longer around to supply any other kinds of "stimulants" either.

 

En Hansen - Grew in Stature

 

Woosha had learned from his mistakes of '05 and this year included Quenton Lynch in his Grand Final line-up. The Q-Train kicked three early goals and like Tony Montana looking at the blimp saying "The World is Yours", The Big Unit must have been looking up at the ubiquitous Holden blimp at half time thinking that it was flashing two giant words to him: "Vin Dicated". However, in the second half he confirmed his long-standing enigma status when his chest turned to rebound ace and he dropped a series of sitters. Lewis Roberts-Thompson, meanwhile, was absurdly switched to the forward line in the second quarter, and seemed to have started where Michael Gardiner left off last year, looking about as out of place as he would have felt had he been watching the game at the headquarters of Gardiner's "motorcycle enthusiast" mates.

 

Dean "Big" Cox once again starred for the Eagles for all four quarters and clearly shaded Darren Jolly. Jolly should have stayed at the hospital with his wife and kid, as Big Cox made him look like he was on two hours of maternity leave:

 

Big Cox - Greater reach

 

 

Nick Davis ran hot in the second half, and threatened to pinch the game for the Swans as he did in THAT final against Geelong last year. However, he soon discovered that Drew Banfield is no Josh Hunt, and unlike the Scaredy Cats, the Eagles are not the kind of team to meekly throw away four-goal leads in finals without putting up a fight.

 

Davis - Not this time

 

It was as if the Swans had been employing "Rope a Dope" tactics in the first half, as they burst to life and pounded the Eagles in the second, only unlike the Rumble in the Jungle, this time George Foreman was able to last the whole twelve rounds. Like the fifth take of the climax scene, the Eagles were physically exhausted and had nothing left to give, but were able to rise to the occasion one last time as the Swans put them under a Snowy Mountains Scheme-sized pump in the last quarter. 

 

As predicted by footballinvective.com last week, Swans cult figure Ted Richards stepped up to be this year's winner of the Ted Hopkins-Shane Ellen-Tony Evans-Glenn Freeborn Medal for best performance in a Grand Final by an average player, and almost won the game for the Swans from centre half forward in the last quarter. However, he will surely live to rue to two decisions late in the game. The first was not to have a shot after he marked 50 metres out at a distance that would not trouble most key forwards. The second was to sell the dummy to Daniel "Bangs" Chick and set off for goal, only to be brilliantly run down by the big Eagle, who was able to grab him with the tip of his amputated finger and bring him down just as he was about to launch a long bomb into the forward 50. As finals tackles go, Chick's effort was up there with THAT tackle by Fraser Brown on Dean Wallis in '99, though we do not for a moment seek to equate the football nous of the unlucky Richards with the certifiable lunacy of Dopey Dean Wallis, who undoubtedly brought it on himself. However, in years to come the football world will look back on Chick's effort, together with with THAT smother on Ryan O'Keefe and THAT mark in the backline by Embley as some of the greatest Grand Final moments of all time, that helped win of of the greatest Grand Finals in history.

 

This year's Grand Final once again proved that no other spectacle in the world can match the drama of an epic final at the Home of Football. The earth moved for 97,000 fans at the MCG and millions more throughout Australia as they enjoyed one of the most emotional and powerful experiences they could ever imagine during the monumental last quarter of the 1-point classic.

 

Next time Peter Garrett or some other out-of-touch cultural snob whinges to Australia's "arts community" that John Howard spends too much time watching football, he should think of the amazing effect that Saturday's four quarters of sheer, pure poetry had on millions of people. More rousing that the grandest Wagnerian opera, more subtle than the finest Mozart sonata, and 100 times more entertaining than the latest "David Hicks interpretive dance", or whatever other rubbish the "arts community" is serving up this week. From the spivs in their suits to the yobs in their scarves, from the blonde Perth surfies to the two Indian battlers sitting next to us belting out the Swans song in their heavy accents before the match, all were united in their passion for the game, as the Grand Final once again proved that football is the greatest force for social unity and shared identity in Australia. It is the game for ALL Australians. The greatest game in the world.

 

 

Hero of the Grand Final: Daniel Chick - displayed the sort of courage in adversity and gutsy stoicism that no doubt made him unwelcome at the Glenferrie Modelling Studio. Two brilliant one-percenters won the game for the Eagles - THAT smother on Princess Mary O'Keefe to set up their last goal, and running down Ted Richards with THAT tackle in the final minutes.

 

Cult Figure of the Grand Final: Ted Richards - We tipped this! Richards became The Answer for the Swans in the second half, but he fell one kick short of being the match-winner. He made the correct decision to take on Chick, but it ultimately proved a bridge too far for the young man. 

 

Clanger of the Grand Final: Big Bad Barry - the biggest GF flop since The Great Man had his pants pulled down by Silvagni in 1995 and was also kept goalless. Darren "Fragile - this side up" Glass became Darren "Double Reinforced" Glass. Barry must have been watching the wrong highlights reels during the week, as someone dusted off his performance in the 1997 Grand Final, rather than 2005.

 

Barry - Met his Match

 

 

One more thing:

 

Last week saw footballinvective.com once again featured in the lesser football media with an extract published in the opinion page of The Australian. However, this 'achievement' was wall and truly overshadowed by the column published next to it - by one W. Capper of the Gold Coast. Just as Brett Kirk graciously admitted that if the Swans had to lose the Grand Final they would rather lose to the Eagles, footballinvective.com admits that if any football identity is to overshadow it, it is honoured that it was Capper.

 

For those who missed his columns in last week's Daily Telegraph, Capper was at his brilliant best, starting with a golden piece of wordsmithery on Brownlow medallist Adam Goodes:

I know exactly what Adam Goodes was thinking when he won his second Brownlow.

 

His mind would have been cast back to that balmy night on the Riverina that changed his life more than a decade ago. He was just another talented kid at a fundraiser when my blondeness strode into Albury Town Hall.

 

As the most marketable AFL personality in NSW, I was asked to tour to convert kids to the game.

 

They followed me like rats behind the Pied Piper. By the time I arrived on the banks of the Murray, rugby league officials were wondering how they would feed their families the following season.

 

It was there that I felt a tug at my mullet. I looked down to see a young Goodes, his wide, Bambi-like eyes begging for wisdom.

 

I bent down and told him, "Never, ever hand pass. Hog the ball for yourself. The media will notice you and you will win all the accolades."

 

It was my own personal credo and one Adam has adopted with gusto throughout his career.

 

Goodes has won two Brownlows, and considering I was robbed blind in 1986 and 1987, some might say he has stolen my glory.

 

I might be inclined to agree if I had not kicked on after football. But now that I am selling time share apartments and stripping, there's no reason to look back in anger.

 

There was no shortage of pride from my end when his name was read out. Having just completed my speech at the Brisbane Lions awards night, I swan dived into the crowd yelling "Capper you beauty" as I sailed into the arms of the players' wives."

If this piece of classic football prose was not enough, Capper followed it up with a equally hilarious offering later in the week:

EVEN though Islam isn't really my cup of chai, I've got to hand it to "Sheik Up There Hilaly". What a great sport, getting behind the Swans even though he can't spend grand-final day chomping on a sausage sanger like the rest of us. I respect people who don't eat pork because of their religion but, for me, a good old-fashioned banger is an essential ingredient on the big day.

 

But there is one thing sheiks and I have in common -- harems. As a lady's man myself, I always fancied my chances of being fed dates by a squadron of veiled babes in an Arabian oasis.

And judging by the reaction he got on Tuesday, it seems Swans hunk-of-spunk Nick Davis would go all right in the Middle East as well. I watched with interest how the girls wrote their phone numbers on his arm in the hope of taking him to their school formal.

 

It brought back memories of my days in the gym when I spent hours pumping iron to develop biceps big enough to fit all the details. Judging by the paltry number he attracted, Nick appears to have forgotten some of the lessons I taught him as a young buck.

 

It's a little-known fact that I escorted Nick on his first night out.

I'll never forget the sight of him wearing moccasins and stone-wash denim jeans when he fronted at my Miranda penthouse for a night on the tiles at Carmens. Aghast, I took him under my wing for a Capper makeover.

 

A short time later he emerged for the prowl with whitened teeth, a mullet and leopard-skin pants. Needless to say, he picked up a little Swanette in about 15 minutes.

Capper's golden prose stands out amongst the banality of the lesser football media like a throbbing red Ferrari Testa Rossa in car park full of plain-jane white Toyota Corollas. Bland-as-a-supermodel's-diet columnists such as Patrick Smith, Caroline Wilson and their ilk could write half a dozen columns every week of the season and never come up with anything half as readable as Capper's two offerings.

 

Which leads footballinvective.com to conclude that Capper well and truly deserves a run as a mainstream football commentator. He certainly has the talent and charm, and given his current vocations as time share salesman and stripper, he could probably do with the money (though we hope his role as a commentator will still leave time for his stripping commitments). Quite clearly, talent such as Capper's deserves the widest possible audience.

 

If Channel 7 had any foresight, imagination and judgement (a very big "if") then it should employ Capper on its commentary team when it regains the TV rights next year, even if it's just in a minor role such as a roving reporter or boundary rider. He would be a definite improvement in the boundary rider role, given that he is clearly more articulate than Dipper and and scrubs up better than Christy Malthouse.

 

Footballinvective.com concedes that Channel 7 showing imagination or foresight is about as likely as Mark Latham making a comeback as ALP leader, but we can always dream. In an ideal world, the "flagship" football broadcaster would be one which reflected the values of footballinvective.com and employed commentators with a bit of passion, imagination and CHARISMA. Accordingly, footballinvective.com has chosen to end the 2006 season by selecting its:

 

Football commentary dream team

 

Just as footy clubs' "teams of the century" never get to take the field, we are certain that in light of Channel 7's allergy to all things entertaining and innovative, this commentary "dream team" will never call a game in anger, but for the record, here it is:

 

Lead Commentators: 

Dennis Commetti

Rex Hunt

 

Special Comments: 

Malcolm Blight (like Moses making pronouncements from atop the mountain) Sam Newman (this time he won't be surrounded by idiots)

Billy Brownless (a clear thinker and clear talker)

 

Boundary riders: 

Neil "Knuckles" Kerley (Footy Park games only)

Warwick Capper (anywhere else)

 

Veterans List: 

Lou Richards 

Peter Landy & Sandy Roberts (two roses still growing in the rubbish tip at Channel 7)

 

IN: Commetti, Hunt, Capper

OUT: McAvaney, McAvaney, McAvaney

 

Capper - Give him a go