Bendigo Football Netball League Qualifying Final – Strathfieldsaye v Golden Square: Dreams

“It would be untruthful to pretend that what Sally was wrestling with last night was some want or absence that I didn’t feel myself. And perhaps I’m simply a poor bet for her or anybody, since I so like the tintinnabulation of early romance yet lack the urge to do more than ignore it when that sweet sonority threatens to develop into something else. A successful practice in my middle life, a time I think of as the Existence Period, has been to ignore much of what I don’t like or that seems worrisome and embroiling, and then usually see it go away. But I’m as aware of ‘things’ as Sally is, and imagine this may be the first signal (or possibly it’s the thirty-seventh) that we might soon no longer ‘see’ each other. And I feel regret, would like to find a way of reviving things. Only, as per my practice, I’m willing to let matters go as they go and see what happens. Perhaps they’ll even get better. It’s as possible as not.”
Richard Ford, Independence Day, p10.

I suspect it will become a shorts day in Melbourne Town as I meet for a 9 am coffee in thick Ascot Vale fog. Spring (or perhaps global warming, or more likely the cumulative effect of both) is in the air.

And before long the whole day lies before me like an unchartered plain. This is as a pretty good place for me. Plans, their making, their remembering, their being adhered to, all served to chop me up in a death-by-a-thousand-cuts kind of way. Though at times, a yawning absence of plans can send me into a cataclysm of existential dread. It’s a balance.

Today I point Ronnie the RAV4 north west. Week 1 of footy finals is breaking out across the wide brown land and I figure that could be worth a look. Like many before me seeking their fortune, I head northwest from Marvellous Melbourne and on towards the diggings.

Bendigo Football Netball League run with a final five. So today, top placed Gisborne (16-2) get a week’s rest. Tomorrow fourth placed South Bendigo (12-6) meet fifth placed Sandhurst (10-8) in the Elimination Final. But today, second placed Strathfieldsaye (14-4) take on third placed Golden Square (13-5). It’s Qualifying Final day at Bendigo’s Queen Elizabeth Oval.

To get there, I’m on Bell Street, the Tulla and onto the Calder. With a podcast that a very funny woman set me up with, called “60 songs that explain the 90s.” I love it. It’s American, so not all the songs are that memorable for me, but I’ve enjoyed episodes covering “Nothing compares 2U,” “Nightswimming,” “Under the bridge,” and many more. Today I plug into episode #75 of 60 songs that explain the 90s (an extended run, having proven popular). Zombie.

It’s a deep dive into Irish alternative rock band The Cranberries, singer Dolores O’Riordan (of course), the band’s beginnings in Limerick, their debut album, the multiple harmonising Dolores’s and everything that lead to “Zombie.” And it is perfect. Linger, Dreams. When Rob discusses the opening of “Ode to my family,” and that do-do-do-doo begins, unprovoked tears squirt out.

It seems fitting that Irish chancers have me as I pass through the old stop of Diggers Rest and on towards Bendigo.

==

There’s a big crowd, $12 entry and a glorious old grandstand awaiting as I step from the car. And a poppet head mining tower on the crest of the hill to the east.

Strathfieldsaye wear the hoops of Geelong and are the Storm. Go figure. Golden square wear a jumper new to me. Royal blue and gold – three panels on the front, three on the back. The bulldogs. Sure.

The big dreadlocked Strathfieldsaye full forward marks in the pocket straight away and slots it. 6-2.

The goals at Queen Elizabeth Oval run east-west. Today is a perfect day for finals footy. Temperature in the high teens, low cloud of the morning breaking up.

Beside me a mullet of young fellas get stuck into a mate who is running drinks for the seniors.
“Hey – look – number 17 looks thirsty!”
“Do you get paid for this?”
“Hey – I saw your brother before, like, with sox up to here. With his 270s.”

Strathfieldsaye now with a beautifully weighted pass inside 50. Goal. 12-2.

Ball up 30m out at the eastern end. The Strathfieldsaye rover snaps. Goal. 18-2.

Strathfieldsaye flood into an open forward line. The flanker runs with the flight, onto the bouncing ball in the left forward pocket and slots the left foot drop punt. 24-2.

Golden Square defenders are overwhelmed with another flood. Swamped. A defender handballs into the corridor (“not there!”) – where it is swooped on by the grinning Strathfieldsaye forward. 30-2.

It’s an impressive start from Strathfieldsaye. And they now waltz unmarked through the centre and hit the leading full-forward 30 out on the lead. 36-2.

QT
St 6.0.36
GS 0.3.3

Golden Square are stuck in the starter’s gates as much of the big crowd heads onto the oval for the quarter time address.

A large Gisborne crew hang about on the northern side, where Gisborne netball teams are in action. (Lots of hands in pockets, red, white and blue club polos, club hoodies. “GFNC est 1879” emblazoned on the back.)

Second quarter and Golden Square need a shuffle on.

Golden Square miss an open goal from general play. 36-4.
Then mark and goal after just 3 minutes. 36-10.

The the main grandstand of Queen Elizabeth Oval is surprisingly on the southern wing. Elevated patrons squint into the winter sun. The northern wing is within the Wet Area. (There are more Gisborne colours here than either Golden Square or Strathfieldsaye. The week off has its benefits.)

At the western end, the Strathfieldsaye forward pocket – brilliantly roves off hands at pace – running towards goal in the W Harmes pocket, runs along the boundary and kicks it end-over-end, ball angled so that arcs through the big sticks. 44-11.

Golden Square, though, are right on top in open play. They pepper the goals for little reward as the sun breaks through. 44-19.

Before a Golden Square screamer in the right forward pocket. Right foot banana. Goal. 44-26.

The ground is full of midsized runners. It’s an athletic, skilful, fast game.

From a rare Strathfieldsaye entry, a heavy Golden Square tackle sees a free kick given away.

“Ohh kick it for him!” 50-26, 26 mins

But Golden Square snatch one back. 51-33.

HT
St 8.3.51
GS 4.9.33

Golden Square are right in this. Strathfieldsaye have had much better value for their attacks.

Burgers and cokes are doing a good trade as I ask the old fella on the gate with the pork pie hat: “How much for a record?”

He gives me a wink, slips his hand into his satchel and passes me one.

A happy hubbub of rhubarb-rhubarb crowd noise floats into the near Bendigo sky. Blokes stand with feet widely planted, women huddle like Adélie penguins, kids laugh. Half time in the final and anything feels possible.

==

Players are back.

And from open play on the forward line boundary, the Golden Square captain centres it to the hot spot, where a free kick is paid for holding, 30m out. Goal. 51-39. After 1 minute. Game on.

From the bounce the Golden Square captain drills the leading full forward who drops it. A mark and goal there would have made it interesting.

Instead, Strathfieldsaye take it from a kick-in – playing on every time – through the centre without losing possession – for a goal. 57-40.

This is good, honest, open footy. Both sides run freely now under clearing skies. Sunlight floods the field. But chances are missed. A Very Even passage of play breaks out now, of around 10 mins without a goal being scored.

It is Strathfieldsaye that breaks the deadlock with a goal from open play after they get the overlap, leaving the left flanker unattended. 64-42, 19 mins

But Golden Square keep coming. The Strathfieldsaye full back touches one on the line. And on 24 minutes, a shot hits the post.

3QT
St 10.4.64
GS 5.15.45

The margin is not a reflection on the play.
But then, of course the margin is a reflection on the play. I guess it is the definitive reflection on the play.

Supporters gather around for both team huddles at the final break.

For the game’s sake, I’m hoping for an early goal of two to Golden Square. But it takes just 48 seconds for Strathfieldsaye to score the first. 70-45.

And perhaps this dents the will of Golden Square – for now Strathfieldsaye pepper the goals. 79-46. Then 85-46.

When Golden Square get one back through open play, celebrations are muted. 85-52, 11 mins

Despite the glorious blue sky and sunlight washing Greater Bendigo, in the shade of the grandstand it is cold. Golden Square immediately snare another. 85-58, 13 mins

And from the centre bounce a Golden Square forward marks 30 out on a slight angle. He hits the post.

An old Strathfieldsaye supporter near me mutters: “Hmm we need another goal here, Bill.”

And maybe it was the urging of the old boy, but Strathfieldsaye get the next from a snap at a boundary throw in. 91-59, 17 mins

At the interchange gates, Strathfieldsaye midfielders swap. Ratta is going on for Mick.
Mick: (pant pant pant)
Ratta: Mick, Mick! Were you on the nut?
Mick: *nods, waves arms around*

When Strathfieldsaye snap another from the crumbs of a marking contest, the game is well over. 97-59, 24 mins

FT
St 15.8.98
GS 7.18.60

Family members, supporters, happy assorted others gather to clap off the victors.
“What did I do with the keys?”
“Jeez I’m cold.”
“Oh, here they are.”

It has been an entertaining afternoon in Bendigo. Golden Square were not far off it, to my eye. If a couple of things had have gone differently. They missed the start – which cost them. But maybe, just maybe, if a kick had not hit the post, if a mark had been held, if a decision had have gone the other way, if the bounce of the ball… That shifty shadow of luck.

Before leaving, I climb the poppet head tower in the afternoon sun and I think of the diggings. I think of the migrants, of the Irish, of the Cranberries. I think about about the weight carried by all of us – and that carried by Dolores O’Riordan and of her untimely death by accidental drowning in a hotel bathtub. I think about luck. And I think that an oval ball would suit the sensibility of a gold miner.

On the way back to Melbourne, golden wattle bloom brightly among the low eucalypt bushland of Victoria’s central highlands. They dazzle. And the western sky is full of every shade of gold, orange, crimson and magnificence that a sunset can offer.

For the return trip it had to be a full throated “everybody else is doing it, so why don’t we” into “no need to argue.” Who knows why? Thanks Strathfieldsaye, thanks Golden Square, thanks diggers, thanks The Cranberries.

Dreams.
Oh, my life is changing every day
In every possible way”
An oh, my dreams
It’s never quite as it seems
Never quite as it seems.”
The Cranberries, Dreams

 

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