AFL Round 20 – Gold Coast v Melbourne: Onesie to Forget

By Jamie Simmons


Forgive me. Reviewing my notes for this game makes me realise that I can get a little prickly when my demands as a consumer are not met. The furrowing of one’s brow is something of a reflex these days and it takes little to warrant such reaction on my part.

It’s important to me that I feel like I’m getting full value for my dollar and with reserved seat pricing forcing me to sell a kidney on E-bay, it’s imperative the game day experience is a positive one. My list of “demands” is a short but non-negotiable one. I want to be reasonably well fed, I need to be comfortable and I demand to be entertained or mark my words there will be sulking. Not just your garden variety sulking either. I’m talking your arm crossing, knee jiggling, audible sighing variety of repressed tantrum that only comes with experience.

It’s seldom a pleasant journey for me to Metricon and in accordance with prophecy I share much of my journey with the usual representation of social pariahs and texting teens who glance at me intermittently through unkempt awnings of hair.

Upon disembarking it occurs to me that my secondary demand is already destined to go unfulfilled  and with only myself to blame. In my haste I have neglected to bring a jacket. Sure enough, I’m barely settled into my seat and already the cold is biting at my nose like a long-sighted vampire. The young woman seated directly in front of me mocks my condition further by wearing a Pikachu onesie (older readers may care to adjourn at this point to seek the counsel of Google or a younger relative to accurately define both “Pikachu” and “Onesie”). Sure, she looks ridiculous but the forgetful old man with the chattering teeth and rock hard nipples is in no position to criticise.

What little of the AFL related banter that trickled its way into the northern tabloids this week has surrounded these two teams. First it was the Suns captain breaking the hearts of thousands of those Geelong faithful hoping and praying for a 2nd coming, by dismissing the possibility of a return with candid talk of his desire to play finals with the Suns. No doubt there will have been a mass pilgrimage shortly after to the top of Malop Street, in central Geelong, gathering at The Wailing Mall in a collective, ugg-booted outpouring of anguish.

The other story (nestled somewhere between the Sudoku and tidal charts) came to us of Melbourne’s latest request for charity, bowl in hand a la Oliver Twist, pleading for another priority pick. I sit firmly in the negative on this one. Perhaps it’s because my own beloved Fitzroy were denied such benevolence. There was no such 2nd helping of gruel from Mr Bumble for them I’m afraid. Or perhaps I’m just not convinced Melbourne wouldn’t waste another draft pick anyway. Give it a month and they’ll have traded it for some magic beans or a timeshare villa in Broadmeadows.

I held some reservation I may be one of few here tonight, especially given how little was riding on this game, and in fulfilling one’s Almanac duties by staying to the end I feared I may be asked to turn the lights off and lock up. However the burgeoning Suns army are clearly invested in success and a healthy enough crowd comply.

Highlights? Well, the kebab I had at half time turned in an outstanding performance but there’s precious little chance The Almanac will allow me to place it amongst the votes.

Campbell Brown’s kamikaze approach to the contest is nothing if not gladiatorial and ample compensation for his lack of genuine finesse. Harbrow or Jarrad “Somehow” as I’ve started to call him (because he permanently appears one side step away from a violent end each time he takes possession but “somehow” finds a crack to sneak through) is consistent and the much maligned Jack Watts is starting to repay the faith.

Sadly though, there would be no Jeremy Howe to rule the skies and much of Melbourne’s game plan seems to hinge on crushing Ablett’s spirit. McKenzie and Garland hung off him like bearded backpacks, affording the champ no room to create in his 250th game and the umpires for this clash were clearly not chosen for their sense of occasion.

In conclusion, Gold Coast won a game they were forced to win ugly and it leaves me nursing a permanently collapsed brow. Quite simply, as a contest, it failed to deliver on the level of prestige an occasion such as “Lefty Round” demands. We can only hope the soon to be unveiled “Taller than Average Round” or “Allergic to Peanuts Round”are afforded more respect.

Prickly,…I know, I know…I’m sorry but it’s late, cold and the kebab I sang the praises of earlier has turned on me in the most treasonous of ways. I have a long, lonely train ride home in front of me and right about now I’d sell my first born for a Pikachu onesie.


Gold Coast    2.4    5.9    10.11     13.12 (90)

Melbourne     3.2    5.6     8.11     10.17 (77)



Gold Coast – Brown 3, Sumner 2, Ablett, Hall, Dixon, Swallow, Thompson, Bennell, Day, Stanley 1

Melbourne– Watts, Kent 2, Sylvia, Byrnes, Fitzpatrick, Tapscott, Davey, McKenzie 1



Gold Coast – O’Meara, Prestia, Harbrow, Swallow, Thompson, Brown

Melbourne– Jones, Garland Byrnes, Viney, McKenzie, Watts

Umpires:  McBurney, Fila, Foot                                                                                    Crowd: 13,840

Our Votes: O’Meara (G) 3, Prestia (G) 2, Jones (M) 1


About Jamie Simmons

Born in Melbourne, a third generation Fitzroy supporter, in 1972 before emigrating to Tasmania during The Great Broccoli Famine of 86. Leaving my island lodgings, largely at the request of locals, to settle once more on the mainland in 1997. These days living out a peaceful existance on the outskirts of Brisbane, where I spend most of my time serving as a fashion warning to others.

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