AFL Round 19 – Gold Coast v St Kilda: Good News Saints – Our position on the bottom of the ladder is secure!

Round 19: Gold Coast v St.Kilda

Metricon Stadium

Saturday 2nd August 2014 7.40pm

I was as usual in the colours of my heart as my daughter the L plater drove to Vermont, a good 30 minute drive, on Saturday morning.  We were headed to a Framing business, to pick up large D-rings I had ordered for the Glen Eira Artists Societies next Exhibition.  Larger rings are needed than any of our artist’s use, so they were ordered and once in, we used the drive to get hours for my youngest.  This is the last of three to do their hours.  Rachel only did 60 hours, the others 120. We are past 70 now, and we can see an end to L plating on the horizon.

So I waltz into the business in an industrial, dead end road, off Canterbury Road, and one of the two gentlemen came to serve me.  Within moments, nay seconds, the conversations were on the more enjoyable topic of football.  My server was a Sainter, he doesn’t go to matches but loved my coloured attire, while the boss grumped that he was a Doggies supporter, and the other customers couldn’t help butt in and rub our noses in the fact that they were happy Hawkers.  It says it all.  The grumpy Bulldog, the ever weary Sainters, and the Hawks who expect nothing less than Premierships on average every five years.  Football transcends all other business and binds us all in a steady dance: winners and losers, success and failure, us and them.

My new Sainter friend said something odd, like, we don’t want to win too much and lose our best draft options.  I had replied that we need to teach the boys to win, to concentrate on losing only leads to poor attitude, like Melbourne suffered pre-Roosey.  And winning a few games probably wouldn’t affect our bottom of the ladder position.  It was all moot, really.

Back in the car, we drove to Uncle Bobs, and I dropped in a few items and gave a big hug to both Bob and Betty who are heading off to Europe this coming Tuesday.  No farewell for Lenny for Uncle Bob.  After 64 years of being a Saints supporter, he deserves a good holiday. My daughter drives well.  It is all practice and time from here on in.  We got home and went our separate ways.

Come evening, I sat ready, trying to sustain positivity and hope of more of the Fremantle dismantling type of football shown just two weeks ago.  It was not to be seen, there were no bizarro events tonight, no toppling expectations and running over anything.  In fact, the Saints showed the exact opposite of what was shown two weeks ago.  There was no extraordinary run and pass, no thumping goals.  The expectations were so opposite, that this week, we waited for the Saints to rally and come back.  Like Freo back then, there was no magic comeback, no resurgence, no surprises.

Once the Suns were thrashed last week, we knew they’d come back.  And they did.  They were strong and clinical and bullied the ball from us.  We were again visited with the ghosts of poor decisions, inaccurate kicking, handballing to players already under pressure, terrible turnovers in our defence that Suns utilised to slaughter us, and terrible kicking for goal.  Everything opposite, contrary, contradictory, different and contrasting.  Were they the same team?  We even had our gun Jack Stevens back.

When Rina joined me, hot off attending to her mother for the day, we watched, bemused.  And laughed at the different headings I might choose for this week’s Almanac article.  Some that floated by were “That special Saintly feeling of doom” and “Back to the bottom/arse end of expectation”, but the winner was a direct response to the Sainter I met in the morning.  He at least got what he wanted.  A better draft pick positioning.  It will have to do.

And we do get to celebrate Lenny as completely awesome, still on the ground, one of our best, to the last and we get to celebrate him next week against the Doggies (who have also come off a thrashing this week and will be hot to beat us, having robbed them of Preliminary Finals in the past that could have left them facing Geelong, amongst others.)

We got to celebrate our wonderful Nick Riewoldt.  He is now the leading Captain, the most games as Captain, passing our champion Danny Frawley.  Nick is a wonderful captain in the history of St.Kilda, and possibly our best (other than Baldock who remains our Premiership Captain spectacular and the Captain who also led with his heart as does our Nick). We got to celebrate the return of Steven, and the spark of Bruce who kicked three and is looking like a likely forward to help Stanley and Riewoldt. We watched courageous Armitage and new boys Curren and Billings slot one each.  Savage played his best game for us, with Newnes, Hayes and Ray all getting heaps of possessions.

Meanwhile, the Suns found their feet for the first time sans the wunderkind Gary Ablett, with the ex- Saint Tom Lynch rubbing our noses in what could have been had he remained a Saint.  They ran over us like a semi-trailer and their early draft pick team showed what can become of the best of the best.

Now Sainters want a little of that please.  Good, solid draft picks who will be our future Lenny’s and Nick’s. And that can only be good news.


About Yvette Wroby

Yvette Wroby writes, cartoons, paints through life and gets most pleasure when it's about football, and more specifically the Saints. Believes in following dreams and having a go.


  1. Disappointing game, but at this point I’m just happy to be watching at all. (Although maybe Freo hastened my recovery a tad.)

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