Leigh Montagna

Haiku Bob: From the outer

autumn remains – a few minutes left of the low scoring game   away game the ball not going to the right spots   one goal down in the rain sinking lower into the sofa   scores level vapor rises from the outer   branches snap off another knee   thin rain hopes of winning [Read more]

After the Siren (a sonnet)

It was a different era he was sure, when harder men went one-on-one all day, and some still claim the way they played more pure; You always knew the price you’d have to pay. He’d paid his price for just one shot at glory in ’78; they were unbackable. His shot from twenty would have [Read more]

Haiku Bob: nowhere left

autumn night Pendlebury shifts attention from the cold     wind halves the moon a perfect pass intercepted     misdirected kick the man-mountain brushed aside     spring sun dusting the screen to watch Pendlebury     leaves skip past Didak turns out of trouble     Pendlebury gathers on the wing a leaf [Read more]

John Kingsmill’s Footy Diary

Round Eight Port is a Mess, Revisited Skip from Skipton was wrong when he wrote that Port versus North at AMMI was an Eight Tarpaulin Match. On the day, ten tarpaulins covered huge sections of the Outer, protecting the venue from its emptiness. And, with only 14,508 people there, all of us could have sat [Read more]

Lenny Hayes

autumn veins

autumn night long before it ends the game over goal in the first minute and the last in between the scrap deep autumn veins bulge on the neck of the coach sun long gone the forward line lacking spark sultry night a set shot slides away away game short passing left behind some leaves dead [Read more]

It was ‘A Hard Year’s Plight’

I wrote this piece last year during Richmond’s ‘winter of discontent.’ Losses to Port Adelaide and the Gold Coast had overshadowed some good early form in the season, and we were facing another lowly finish…. “It’s been a long cold lonely winter.” These words, penned by the late George Harrison, the ‘quiet’ Beatle, have been [Read more]

Carlton Supporters – An Amplification

by Bernie Tuck Remember the days of going to Waverley. You hated going there. It was mandatory to have lunch at a Brunswick pub to muster the strength to tackle the journey. The skill was to have some other unsuspecting bloke to drive.[ He usually only fell for the three card trick once]. The reason [Read more]

round 6 – haiku bob – three quarter moon

roof closed the game not reaching great heights     three quarter moon the crowd just shy of full     colder nights a measured kick lands out on the full     turning leaves all our goals kicked by defenders     thinning trees welcoming with open arms Cloke’s first mark     moon [Read more]

The battle for Melbourne’s soul: Sporting Capital or International City of Culture?

AFL Grand Final day 2009. A young Japanese tourist wandered down Spring Street, Melbourne, dressed in a fashionable clinging top with blue and white horizontals. She was quickly surrounded by Geelong fans, vying to have their photo taken beside her. An observer described her as “utterly, utterly perplexed”.

round 5 – haiku bob – the last second

  Anzac Day one grey cloud covers the sky   space closing at the last second Swan’s handpass   fine rain a snap for goal brushes the post   cloudburst the ball belted one end to the other   autumn mist a handpass without looking   cloud trapped sun Collingwood leading the smother count   [Read more]

Moving Day

Last week Gigs wrote a touching and heartfelt piece on being sacked andwhat that meant for him and his family. It was raw, brilliant, brave and open and generated a tremendous amount of support and commentary. This Friday is moving day for me, and I can’t guarantee I won’t fall in a crumpled emotional heap.

A Day Out

by Bill Walker Clinking of the medals crunching of the feet witnessed by the honor guard lining out the streets skirling of the bagpipes dull thud of the drum order of the service just a background hum flooding back the memories so strong it’s hard to cope did their bit for freedom democracy and hope [Read more]

the sunlight’s slant

piercing light the defender touches a nerve partly closed roof the ball hovers between flanks filling the stands with groans stubbed toe ump and player in heated discussion – the sunlight’s slant edge of winter – crossing the 50 metre line he falls over falling leaves them all behind Harry clouds adrift so many goals [Read more]

France’s answer to Hayden Ballantyne falls

  by Bob Utber Paris in the spring without football is not football. Mind you the way the weather has been behaving here, walking up the Champs Elysees is like making your way to your seat at Arctic Park.  Not once has anybody asked me the score and there have been some big games this [Read more]

Heaven

  by Bernie Tuck As we get older we start thinking about what Heaven is like. Topless angels serving boutique beers and the like . I have now discovered Heaven: Saturday afternoon at the MCG. With your son. Fine day. Essendon supporters. Playing Carlton. Three quarter time. Essendon seven goals up. At the back of [Read more]

John Kingsmill’s Footy Diary

Round Four, preview Here’s a chance Here’s a chance for Port. Collingwood is tearing itself to bits. Here’s one round where Port can note that its opposition is more ragged than itself. Here’s a chance to put their foot upon their throat in the last quarter, where the game may still be there to be [Read more]

almost not there

autumn night the missing parts of our game watching the footy in a different time-zone I whisper an expletive turning leaves Swan fast becoming slow wisps of cloud Collingwood almost not there lingering snow the team’s lifeblood lies motionless flaming red the young maple – new coach feels the heat autumn haze I vaguely remember [Read more]

John Kingsmill’s Footy Diary: Round 3

Round Three, Think again   The best thing about footy is that it only takes three weeks for the world to change, for nothing else to matter, for the dry summer to dissolve. Unexplainable gaps appear in the tipping comps; injuries punch holes in early balloons; new coaches are, suddenly, stranger than the ones they [Read more]