Finals Week 1 – Brisbane v Richmond: Lessons from Ford Park

 

 

 

 

by John Green

 

Last weekend I took a walk down the street to Ford Park in Bellfield to watch some finals footy. Ford Park is the headquarters of the Yarra Junior Football League. There was a hint of spring in the air with a cloudy sky and patches of blue.

 

I watched the Kew Bears v St. Mary’s under-15s second semi-final.

 

I enjoyed the days when my own boy played underage football and my various match day experiences of being runner, medic, timekeeper, boundary umpire or goal umpire. I still like watching juniors play the game. A range of abilities were on display. Some players were quite accomplished, others less so. Some of them will go on to play in open-age competitions while others will end their careers at junior level.

 

The crowds are always bigger at finals. Spectators congregated on the steps outside the pavilion and leaned against the fence around the oval. Locals walking their dogs stopped to take a look. A couple of mums discussed real estate prices in North Balwyn and the shenanigans that people go through to enrol their kids in the prestigious local high school. But they were still aware of what was taking place in the game.

 

“Nice goal, Will! Nice goal!”

 

Kew enjoyed a handy lead late in the third quarter and their coaches and volunteers were highly animated.

 

“Where’s your man, Sharkey, where’s your man?”

 

“Spread, spread!” for a kick-out.

 

“Come on boys, this is our game!”

 

The St. Mary’s players joined their huddle at three-quarter time facing a 24-point deficit. A small boy held a whiteboard aloft at full stretch with the help of his older brother, who was supporting his  arms. The whiteboard listed stats such as tackles and kicks to advantage. The coach addressed his charges.

 

“Believe in each other, right? No dump kicks into fifty, right? We can set up an avalanche in this last quarter, right? Come on boys, just believe it, right? Just four more goals and we’re right back in it, right?”

 

St. Mary’s duly kicked the first three goals of the final term and the difference was reduced to only three points with ten minutes remaining. The crowd became more involved, with parents, siblings, friends and clubmates urging their boys onto greater intensity. The Bears scored a couple of steadiers and were 10 points up when the siren ended hostilities. “Yeah!” yelled the Kew interchange players, as they rushed onto the field to hug their teammates. Their beaten opponents consoled each other with a gentle touching of hands. The combatants met in the centre, formed moving parallel lines in club colours and shook hands. The coaches, their assistants and spectators joined them and both coaches delivered short speeches praising the opposition. Everyone applauded.

 

The teams made their back way to the change rooms. The St. Mary’s players were urged to “keep your heads up, boys!” The victors began to sing their club song as they left the field.  We’re a Happy Team at Kew was a nod to Hawthorn’s theme. The Bears would proceed to the grand final in a fortnight’s time while St. Mary’s had another attempt on the following weekend against the winner of the Fitzroy-Beverley Hills first semi. But junior clubs have multiple opportunities for glory at finals time. The St. Mary’s under-16s had already sprinted onto the field for the commencement of their second semi-final against Banyule.

 

The umpires in lime green emerged from their own dressing room and marched down the ramp to the boundary line. They stood in pairs and glanced around to check that they were in correct formation. They marched with precision onto the arena for the latest instalment of the drama taking place on fields right across Australia in August and September.

 

And so to the AFL finals. It’s one thing to enjoy finals as a neutral and quite another to sit down with Matt to watch Richmond’s Gabba elimination encounter with the Lions on TV. I am emotionally invested in this one. I indulge in a spot of optimism. The Tigers turned their season around with their epic come-from-behind victory over Brisbane that started a four-game winning streak leading into the September campaign. The Lions are missing a number of key players. Rayner and Answorth are suspended and Marcus Adams unable to take his place in the line-up due to concussion protocols. Dusty is unleashed from his injury-imposed exile to torment the kingdom of the north again. Six Richmond cubs are being blooded in their first finals in Dimma’s team rejuvenation project.

 

Lion ruckman Oscar McInerney clashes heads with Jack Ross in a marking contest within three minutes of the start. He is subbed out and Brisbane now have no recognised ruckman to combat Nankervis. Big Toby will surely grind his makeshift opponents into the turf and dominate as the match wears on. Daniel Rioli scores Richmond’s first and his uncle, Maurice Junior, handballs over the top to Dusty in the square. He pops it through for Richmond’s second in a perfect re-entry for the most formidable finals performer in history. Scores are level at the first break.

 

It’s a pulsating contest with constant lead changes. The Tigers have familiar problems with clearances from centre bounces. Lachie Neale is in breathtaking form and constantly ignites his team with his precise ball-winning and distribution skills. The Tigers need to shut him down. Nankervis is competently dealing with McInerney’s replacements in McStay and Daniher, but often delivers the ball directly into the hands of Neale. Richmond forgo the hard-tag option. The Tigers lead by as much as 11 points in the second quarter but are unable to accelerate with a set of goals to make a significant break. Then we’re informed that Prestia is being subbed out. It could only be his hamstring! This can’t be happening I lament, but it is, and all my smugness at the absence of McInerney evaporates. How can Richmond contend deep in September without their crucial playmaker? Maybe one finals win is all we can manage. Richmond are a goal up at half time.

 

Nankervis changes his approach in the second half. He starts to grab the ball in ruck contests and boot the ball forward. It works. Pickett stands with Neale at centre bounces and moderates his effectiveness. The Tigers apply their withering brand of pressure and propel the ball forward by any means possible. When Lynch converts at the 22-minute mark the Tigers are up by 16 points and threatening to set up a match-winning lead. Brisbane score the next two and the Tigers are unable to break away.

 

They lead by only five points at the final interval and we’re contemplating yet another entry into the twilight zone of tight finishes with all the blind panic that ensues. What will it be? Exhilaration or despair? Every moment is magnified and small incidents assume massive proportions. Richmond’s youngsters have made errors along the way, but enjoyed some good moments as well. Ben Miller grubbers a kick and then misses Nankervis with a handball with the skipper in open space. Maurice Rioli marks cleverly, but his pass to Edwards in front of goal is cut off at the last moment. Riewoldt scores with two laser-like efforts from long range on the boundary. Edwards tackles a surging McCarthy, with what we hail as a “match-saving tackle!” He passes to Baker, who has been heroic in the final stanza, but he sprays his shot out on the full. The experienced Daniel Rich is pinged for running too far. Now’s the moment! One goal will do it! Then some luck goes our way. McCarthy marks within easy range but Tarrant receives the free after Joe Daniher had cannoned into him in the marking contest.

 

Deep in time-on the Tigers are up by three points. Short drives long to the teeth of goal and Lynch hauls in a superb contested mark.

 

“Yeeeeesss!” we yell. This is it. If Tom converts we’re home. He’s been deadly accurate throughout the last month and can’t possibly miss. He fires and is then strangely subdued. There are no fist pumps and hugs from teammates. What just happened? The goal umpire believes it’s a goal but asks for a review in case the ball flew over the post. Not another review! We always get stiffed by the faceless man in front of the monitor. Lynch obviously doesn’t know what’s happened. But that’s immaterial. Why didn’t he behave like any local footballer would in the event of a goal umpire’s indecision? That is, wildly applaud his shot and rush to embrace teammates, indulging in a burst of team-oriented persuasion. We examine the footage. Yes! There’s no conclusive evidence and the goal will surely stand. But no! A behind! I slap my forehead in disbelief and contemplate the awful possibility that we’re about to find another way in which to stumble at the last hurdle. With just over a minute to go the Lions attack and Zac Bailey sends the ball into the square, where Riewoldt has joined a host of Richmond big men to repel this last raid. Nankervis fists the ball but can’t get it over the line for a rushed behind. It falls at the feet of Daniher, who hacks it through for a devastating six-pointer in a cluster of flailing defenders.

 

It’s happening again. The ball is bounced, the Lions force a couple of stoppages and Neale tackles Bolton to the ground as he seeks to escape and set up one more Richmond attempt on goal. The seconds count down and the siren blares as the Tigers launch one last desperate move on the open side of the ground.

 

Joe Daniher joins the list of opponents to have scored a late winner against the benighted Tigers. That’s five losses by a goal or less for the season. We just can’t win the close ones. Matt jumps up from the couch and storms into his room. I sit in stunned silence. My boy might be more demonstrative than me when we lose, but he recovers quicker. Daniher’s major was the last in an astonishing sequence of seventeen lead changes in the match. It’s of no consolation to me that we’ve witnessed one of the great AFL finals. I just wanted to win at least one of them this year. Instead we crash out and finish seventh.

 

When is it admirable to finish in seventh position? Fifty years ago I took part in an entrance exam for the composition of the new Year Seven classes at my modest Christian Brothers school in Broadmeadows. I finished seventh out of 127 students, a perfectly respectable result. Maybe I should consider Richmond as not merely the seventh best in the AFL but the seventh best of 127 if you consider various strong suburban and country leagues. Speaking alphabetically, that’s 127 teams from Aberfeldie in the Essendon and District League to the Wonthaggi Power in the Gippsland League.

 

But no, it doesn’t alter what’s happened. It’s merely being foolish. I feel even worse when it emerges that Tom Lynch was blinded by the Gabba lights and simply couldn’t see the passage of the ball with his last, fateful attempt at goal. His uncertainty surely influenced the decision in the score review when the video footage provided nothing like the conclusive evidence required to overturn the umpire’s verdict.

 

What can you do when your team suffers the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune? No club has a monopoly on premiership success and a lot of things have to go right if you’re to lift the cup for your adoring fans.

 

Life goes on and there’s a bit more to it than the fortunes of the AFL club that you follow. There’s a bit more to footy as well. I think I’ll head over to Ford Park again this weekend to watch the community engage in the springtime ritual of watching your kids play in the finals.

 

I think that should help me feel better.