After
two-years of squandering the talent at his disposal with a style of play
once flatteringly described as 'anti-football'
by Football Invective.com, Ross Lyon and St Kilda turned the tables by
playing creative, attacking football to dispatch the increasingly
predictable, increasingly dull and increasingly un-South Australian Crows.
The
atmosphere at Football Park was always bound to be tense, given that this
was the first Crows game at which beer could be drunk in the seats, for
which previous Crow fans had threatened to tear
up their memberships in disgust. But this was surely not the reason for
the mass disquiet in the crowd after the game.
Think
Palestinians in a rage after a lifetime of misery hurling rocks at Isreali
troops. Now
replace rocks with full plastic beer cups, replace Palestinians with
frustrated Crows supporters, and replace Isreali troops with the
Crows coaching staff (led by Neil Craig) as they march across AAMI stadium
after another tactical fade out as the much-vaunted fitness regime again
fails to cover the lack of an effective game plan.
Now
you can imagine the scene post the Crows first home game. This
is surely the real reason why the Crows hierarchy is scared of letting beer cups
into the stands at AAMI stadium.
There
were some early glimmers of hope in the second quarter for the Crows when
the Saints dusted off former Hawk Zac Dawson, who had three goals kicked on
him in quick succession, which must have brought back memories of his
'memorable' debut year in 2006, but fortunately he was spared any further embarrassment.
Despite having filled out a bit, he doesn't seem to be trying too hard shake off his
soft image, judging from his dress sense:
In
the crucial stages of the second half, Craig's Crowbots were again
programmed to be regimented, predictable and uncreative. Riewoldt and Kosi were given more space
than Nathan Bock at a feminist convention and waltzed past the Crowbot witches hats who
were locked into the
tactical straight jacket of whatever this latest attempt a 'zone' game plan
was.
Neil Craig needs to ditch
the pseudo science and the Borg collective mentality he is trying to instill
into his Crowbots and re-acquaint himself with the simple
philosophy of Alan Jeans, for whom players were just sausages - you can
curry them, boil them, fry them, or do whatever you like with them, but at
the end of the day they're still sausages.
Power
outage out West
After
Chad Cornes questioned
his manhood and his football ethics last week, Andrew Lovett would have
surely had the last laugh when he saw Cornes being publicly humiliated by
running out the latest Port 'away' guernsey:
Alan
Scott will be looking down from the big truckie roadhouse in the sky and
shaking his head in dismay, and the legendary hard men of Alberton must be
appalled that the great blue collar club has descended to such depths. It's hard to
imagine the likes of Dave "Grave Danger" Granger wearing rubbish like this back in the days when they used to regularly brutalise Chad's old
man:
A
proper Port hard man in a proper Port guernsey
-
Dave Granger decks Graham Cornes, 1982
As
for the game, Port wasn't much better, being trounced all over the ground by
Daniel Kerr and Dean 'Big' Cox, who like Dirk Diggler firing up the rusty
old Corvette and getting his gear off for one last hurrah in the final scene
of 'Boogie Nights', did their best to relive memories of the Eagles' recent
but still long-lost glory days. Mark Williams seemed to have arrived at
Subiaco with the same strategy that he used to deploy against West Coast
back in the old days, which was something along the lines of:
a)
put all our men on Judd and Cousins; and thus
b)
risk Daniel Kerr being left alone and running riot.
Chocko
seems to have successfully deployed part (b) of the plan, but serious
questions need to be asked about part (a)
Football
Invective.com's occasional Port Adelaide correspondent Teal Coloured Glasses has spent the
off-season enjoying the Angle Park Greyhounds and relaxing on the pristine
beaches of Torrens Island, but Port's shocking performance
against West Coast has roused him from his literary slumber, and the gloves
are now off:
The
once-proud PAFC is a broken club at the moment. We are at a massive
crossroads in our history. We are losing money faster than an early-90s
state government, we have a playing group that combined cares
less about their own performance than Tracy McGrady on a bad day and a
coach who is already considering the changes he’s going to make to
Richmond’s list once they appoint him for 2010.
Add to
that a disaffected blue collar fan base who are suffering more than most
as a result of the GFC and you have a ticking time bomb. Watch this space,
the bottom is going to fall out of this very soon.
Leaving
aside the current on-field problems, there is a dearth of off-field leadership at the club as well.
None of the
board members or senior admin staff have been there longer than a couple of
years. This is amazing for a club with such a history. It also means that
all authority gets concentrated in the hands of Chocko. Chocko is like
Napoleon – it makes sense to centralise power in his hands when things are
going well, but when things go bad, it will guarantee a spectacular
downfall.
There
has also been a loss of the old-style Port Adelaide Magpies culture. When we
first entered the AFL in 97, we were Magpie through and through – the
playing group was 75% Magpie (or former Magpies returning from interstate
like Wanganeen, Bond, Lyle etc) and off-field we were surrounded by former
SANFL greats – Jack Cahill, Chocko, Arnfield etc.
Fast
forward 12 years and there are just 4 remaining players with Magpie
heritage – Burgoyne x 2, Tredrea and Ebert. That’s the list. We haven’t
drafted a Magpie since Ebert in 2002. And off the field, we employ no-hopers like
McGuinness, Jason Cripps, and
TCG's personal nemesis, Peter Rohde
in our footy department. That means in the coaches box we have a former
failed Glenelg Coach and Crows Captain, a former failed Norwood and
Bulldogs coach, and
a bloke who was a very ordinary player (and Malcolm Blight's whipping boy)
at St Kilda.
Meantime,
we have dozens of PAFC types who were there for the halcyon days of the
mid-80s to mid-90s who are nowhere to be found. Why is Craig Bradley not
there? Or Wanganeen? Russell Johnston? Martin Leslie? Greg Philips?
Apart
from being one of the finest collections of mullets ever assembled, these
guys are hard men who would never have let the current debacle happen.
Come to think of it, Dave
Granger is now out of jail - maybe he could help. Under
guys like that, we would be a team of tough nuts that never said die –
even if we weren’t as exciting to watch when the sun was shining. And
I’ll take that every time.
The
word 'respect' has come up many times recently and AFL people outside SA constantly ask
why Port Power struggle with gaining some
no matter how successful they are (or think they are).
From an
outsider's perspective, when they see footage of Dean Brogan waving his
fists of fury, Chad trash talking Lovett, or Burgoyne laughing at Cox spewing up
(yeah, how hilarious
to see an opposition player trying twice as hard as you) it's hard to
'earn' respect from the footy public. The
fish rots at the head and these behaviours seem to be condoned, and if
anything encouraged.
The
lesser football media this week ran stories about Port players denying
they had big heads. In a literal sense, Brett "Megahead" Ebert
and Justin "Mini Body" Westhoff can't possible deny the charge:
But
the denials of figurative big heads from the rest of the team seem about as genuine as
the standard of honesty that Chad Cornes demands at tribunal hearings.
The
thing is, we’ve always been an arrogant club. That’s why everyone in
Crowland hates us so much.
But
arrogance must be earned. The only difference is that back in the day, we
were justifiably arrogant (and yes, it was absolutely encouraged among
players and supporters) because we were hard, tough, skilful and - above all
– valued winning above all else. That’s why in a league of 10 clubs we
won 40% of the premierships over a 100 year period. And whilst
everyone hated us, they respected us because
we backed it up on the field.
Nowadays,
while the arrogance remains the performance does not. And that’s how you
lose respect. Arrogance is fine, as long as you can back it up – just
ask Cuzzy. But if you can’t, people think you’re a joke. And that’s
where we stand.
Respect
is a mathematical formula, which I postulate as follows:
R =
[(E/A)-1]+S
Where:
R =
Respect
E =
Effort
A =
Arrogance
S =
Success
As you
can see, if Arrogance is greater than Effort it will push the underlying
Respect level below zero (i.e. a Respect Deficit). Some brief Success may
lead to a (temporary) Respect surplus but even with Success, if there is
not enough Effort to balance the Arrogance there will be what economists
describe as a ‘structural deficit’. The value of S can also be a
negative number (as in 2008) which will further exacerbate any
structural deficit, and can even push a nominal Respect surplus into the
red.
For
Port Adelaide from 1870 to 1996 the E and A values were both 100 and the S
value was 34 (i.e. the number of flags). This created a Respect surplus of
plus 33.
In
2008-9 the E level is 50 but the A value is still 100 and the S value is
minus 11 (the number of rungs Port fell down the ladder in 2008) meaning
both a headline deficit of minus 11.5, plus a structural deficit of minus
50%.
In
financial terms, it’s time for Port to re-capitalise its Effort and
divest itself of the toxic asset that is the unsustainably high level of
Arrogance on its balance sheet.
The
new Home of Football
In
more positive news from Adelaide, the whole city was abuzz this week after
the great Adelaide Advertiser announced bold new plans by the state
Opposition to build a new
stadium in the heart of Adelaide.
This
big new plan promises to be the most significant transformation of Adelaide
since the introduction of stobie
polls, and prompted numerous supportive comments on the Adelaide
Advertiser web site, of which this was surely the finest:
People
of Adelaide, the time has come! What a brilliant idea/plan!! Coming from a Greek-Australian family
generations of voting Labor, we are disillusioned with Labor and Mr Rann's
lack of vision, media spin, and lack of action. Smart,
trendy, young, cultured people like myself who are in self- imposed exile
living overseas for the last 4 years, will return to a vibrant and dynamic
Adelaide.
Posted
by: Connor Winston Art Barkman of Manchester ex-Adelaide 10:52pm April 05,
2009
Football Invective.com is
also a "smart, trendy, young cultured person" who loves Adelaide and
feels no need for self-imposed exile. But as Mohammad Ali once said, even the greatest can still
get better, which is why Adelaide needs a new stadium. (By the way, if Mr
Barkman is in self-imposed exile from Adelaide because it's too dull, what
the hell is he doing in Manchester?)
The SANFL and Mike Rann
(aided and abetted by their Melbourne running dog Comrade Demetriou) are
luddites of the game, desperately clutching to that failed vision of
1970s urban brutopianism Football Park, a decade after the failed Melbourne equivalent,
Waverley, was silently euthanised.
Footy Park and Waverley
are both of the same design, and both of the same flawed thinking of the
1970s, in the era of endless urban expansion based on freeways and carparks
galore, all based on the assumption that huge facilities in the middle of suburbia
(or in the case of Footy Park, pungent swamps and sand dunes where Football
Invective.com's Adelaide ancestors used to hunt rabbits) would attract
people if they were simply plonked on the end of a main road miles from
town.
They remind Football
Invective.com of another failed vision of 1970s culture, the Leyland
P76. Like the P76 they seemed like a visionary idea at the time, but no sooner
had they come to reality than they met with a hostile public reaction, and have remained an unlamented
laughing stock ever since.
Waverley,
Football Park and the Leyland P76
-
Lemons of the 1970s
Attempts to 'revitalise'
Footy Park are like wasting money on a new engine and coast of paint on a
P76 - no matter how much is spent, it is impossible to escape the glaring, incontrovertible
reality of the outdated, impractical and downright ugly design.
The
Alternative
Football
Invective.com fully supports the building of a new stadium next to the
Adelaide CBD, but with a couple of variations. First, it should be built on
the vacant wasteland that is the site of the former old jail near the
station:
Once
a stadium is built on the old jail site it can then be given the name of
'The Slammer', which will surely inspire SA fans to dish out the same sort
of treatment to visiting supporters that the former inmates used to dispense
to rapists and paedophiles. The walls of the stadium can also re-use some of
the old stone walls, iron gates and prison bars from the old jail to add to
the general air of intimidation (as well as continuing the glorious 'prison
bar' tradition of Port Adelaide). For many Port fans, the big sandstone
walls of the jail may remind them of a former home, whilst Crows fans can
pretend that the walls are those of a big chardonnay cellar instead.
As
the stadium will be located next to the Torrens River, the outflow from its sewerage
system could be used to refill the currently barren river bed (and without
any loss of water quality either):
It
is also crucial to continue to glorious SA tradition of pre-game barbecues
that is a feature of Footy Park. The adjacent North Adelaide golf course can
therefore be utilised as a car park on match days, and the Crows supporting
toffs from North Adelaide who use it may be pleasantly surprised to find
some new bunkers on the fairways after Port supporters do circle work after
a big win.
The
alternative to this grand vision - a refurbishment of Footy Park - is
looking more lame by the week. The latest plan to 'upgrade' AAMI is to make
it more bi-partisan by re-naming the
Crows Tavern bar "Checkside"
in order to appeal to Port fans and for the ground to be
"badged" in either Crows or Port colours for each side's home
game. But these are just paint jobs on the P76 and, in any event, these
concepts can be employed (and improved) at The Slammer.
The Slammer
will not only 're-badge' itself for each team's home games, it will utilise the
highly successful retractable light tower technology that was employed at the
Adelaide Oval to install two retractable statues at its main entrance - one
of Malcolm Blight which can rise up from the ground at Crows home games; and
one of Fos Williams that can appear for Port games, with both appearing for
Showdowns. And why bother with a pissweak re-naming of a bar. The main bar
at the Slammer should also be 're-badged' in the appropriate colours for
each side's home games and, given that it will be changing its orientation
on a regular basis, it could be called the Don Dunstan Bar, in honour of the
great South Australian social reformer.
If
the naming rights of the Slammer need to be sold, then it should be named after a company that is uniquely South
Australian and an icon of the great state. It should therefore be named the Farmers Union Iced Coffee Dome. This could then be abbreviated to "F.U.
Dome" which would be the perfect welcome for visiting Victorian fans,
in the finest tradition of Croweater obnoxiousness.
Unlike
Robert Doyle, who has called for the "orderly closing down of
Adelaide" (come to think of it, wasn't that also Gary Ayres' plan as coach of the Crows?), Football Invective.com supports the
inspired rejuvenation of Adelaide - starting with the Slammer.
Hero
of the Week: Adam Goodes - Turned back the clock with a masterful
display for the Swans. Goodes will surely be grateful for Simon Taylor for
giving him the chance to play on Brent Renouf all night, whilst Renouf is
now admirably filling the post vacated by Zac Dawson as Hawthorn's resident
whipping boy-in-chief.
Cult
Figure of the Week: Alastair
Clarkson - a left-field nomination this week, but Clarkson takes the prize
for bringing back the old-style values of footy coach tantrums and tirades, as
told this week in the lesser football media:
HAWTHORN
coach Alastair Clarkson has exposed his notorious temper to one of the
most senior men in the AFL in an outburst that has embarrassed the AFL
Coaches' Association and prompted a series of apologies from his fellow
coaches.
Clarkson,
who in his four years at Hawthorn has sworn at journalists in post-game
conferences, lost his temper with another during a commercial break in a
Channel Nine studio and has a history of having a short fuse, put on a
vintage performance for McLachlan's benefit.
We
don't really care what he said, or why he said it, but the way that he said it is enough.
Arguably the finest coaching tirade since the days of Ron Barassi and "War
without Weapons".
Clarkson
is like
many with the gift of genius, whose genius can sometimes verge on the psychotic.
But unlike Neil Craig, the Port assistant coaching staff, Matthew
Knights and all the other predictable coaches who get walked
over by the media at their banal and cliched press conferences,
Clarkson has the colour and the passion that once made coaches the
most unique personalities in football.
Clanger
of the Week (x2): Just when Football Invective.com thought Nathan Bock's
post-match exploits made him a lock for this week's nomination, up pops Adam
Simpson and Daniel Pratt with a couple of chickens, a video camera and
way too much time on their hands:
AFL
club investigates chicken sex film
AFL
club North Melbourne says it will not punish the player responsible for
posting on the internet a degrading video that depicts a toy rubber
chicken performing sex acts.
The
four-minute video, posted on video sharing website YouTube, features the
rubber chicken, always wearing a condom on its head and manoeuvred by an
unidentifiable hand, seeming to sexually penetrate a real chicken carcass,
The Age newspaper reported today.
Parts
of the film, titled The Adventures of Little Boris, were recorded in the
club's locker room, including the locker of senior player Brady Rawlings,
on the desk of a staff member, at a supermarket and in a hotel toilet.
God
only knows what these blokes would do in their hallowed club rooms with a chicken and a shinbone.
For
years now, Football Invective.com has sat back and gloated at the embarrassment
caused to the NRL (National Rapist League) by the antics of its more
cerebrally-challenged players, thinking that the greatest game in the world
was above such things. But as one commentator in the lesser football media
put it this week, you're only ever one dickhead away from disaster.
Looks
like it's time for a re-run of those old domestic
violence ads, starring Bock and the two North gentlemen. It could go
something like this:
Bock:"But I'd been beat up on and humiliated by a couple of girls
earlier that night (Riewoldt and Kosi). I thought it was OK."
Voice-over:"No it's not OK."
North
gentlemen:"But the chickens told us they consented."
Voice-over:"No they didn't."
"To
violation of chickens and NRL behaviour in the AFL - Australian Rules Says
No."
(Written
and Authorised by Football Invective.com, Victoria Square Adelaide)
