Round 1
Geelong v Fremantle
4.15pm, March 14, 2026
Kardinia Park
Saturday morning. I’ve pulled up pretty well after Friday’s Almanac lunch with terrific guest Mark Bolton at the All Nations.
I’m driving along the Western Ring Road, heading for Geelong. The Cats are playing Freo and I’m not feeling too positive about the boys’ prospects. We were terrible against the Gold Coast – not within coo-ee of a team which is living up to the hype.
Everything seemed to fall apart under the weight of the Suns’ dominance; confidence was shot by half-time. We handballed poorly, we kicked poorly, we looked slow in the chase, we struggled in the ruck. Even Dorian Blicavs looked wrinkly.
It’s probably going to happen again. Against another hyped team.
I’m flat, lacking enthusiasm.
Even with Jeremy Cameron and Danger. Even at Kardinia Park.
Expectant Dockers are remembering that final, on election day, when we got rolled, and then the trains weren’t running. They’re thinking their two ruckmen – dinosaur Darcy and dynamo Jackson – will demoralise young Mitch Edwards.
That’s a good reason to turn up. To see how the young fella goes.
But do I need to be at the ground?
I’d seen two crap teams on Thursday night. Do I need to see a third one live?
I’m resigned to the pub wisdom: it’s going to be a long season for Geelong.
I’ve ditched the pre-game radio banter. The dial’s set on the races.
No, I should go.
I have a good plan: watch the game at Kardinia Park and then head to my brother’s place in Hamilton for the post mortem.
And that’s when it happened.
The big green Ballarat Exit loomed and suddenly the left blinker was on and I was heading up the ramp. I’d get to Hamilton bearing a Boston Bun and a couple bottles of red, we’d watch the Cats on TV, then play a few gloomy holes in the gloaming.
Even I was surprised by my decision.
**
I’m feeling guilty at 110 km/h.
I’m asking Life’s big questions. Don’t I have faith in Bailey Smith?
What if my absence precipitates a Geelong loss?
But soon I am feeling not so guilty. Actually, I’m feeling really good because we’re in the lounge room looking through full-length sash windows across straw-dry paddocks towards Dunkeld and the magnificent bluffs of the Southern Grampians. I have a beer in hand and there’s a plate of cheeses including Blue Castella ( which is not permitted in our Tanunda household).
The Dockers strike early. Then Jez settles things with a goal. It’s a moment of comfort. But barely a moment because ee look troubled. Rushed, rusty, messy.
Shannon Neale, on a strong lead to the pocket, misses what he should have taken. Thoughts turn to Polkinghorne. Josh Treacey is the antithesis.
The whole Freo team looks sharp, enjoying the firm track and the March sunshine.
Dudley is everywhere? Who the hell is Dudley? Isaiah Dudley. He’s in the wide open spaces up forward and, in traffic, he can even jump over Geelong defenders (who have fallen on the turf).
The Geelong faithful, dressed in cricket-crowd white, are worried.
Well, it was a great twenty years.
Mitch Edwards gives away a whipper-snapper’s free kick after jumping into Luke Jackson. I write down ‘poor kick’ about five times in a couple of minutes. I’m thinking of making a rubber stamp.
Shai Bolton is toying with us and I reckon he still in cruise mode.
We’re five goals down at quarter time.
“It’s like an old Grand Final,” I say.
“It is,” Mick agrees.
“Ollie Dempsey’ll kick four in the last quarter.”
**
At quarter time, as C. Scott is doing a David Parkin, Mick and I consider something totally unheard of: we consider heading to the golf course during a Geelong game.
Then Mick brings another beer.
“We’ll watch the second quarter,” I say.
It’s a good decision. Shaun Mannagh kicks three in a row.
He could’ve kicked another if the umpire had paid advantage. Mark? Or a free kick?
Gryan Miers is starting to find the footy. Max Holmes is getting a few touches. Tanner Bruhn is solid when we’ve got the Sherrin; not as solid when the Dockers have it.
But we still look fragile.
The worrying sign is that Freo seem to waltz through our defenders. Freo use Dudley more and he nails another and suddenly Freo’s lead has been restored. It’s the ease with which it happens that is concerning.
Jordan Clarke is oozing smugness, and I’m thinking it would be nice to have him now. Or Jed Bews. Or Bernie Smith. Or just someone to play on this Dudley bloke.
Zac Guthrie comes off half-back, runs past for the handball, and launches as if it’s a training drill. And misses.
“Mitch Edwards looks stressed,” I say, as the young man’s face locks into a sort of permanent grimace. “But he’s trying his heart out.”
I look at my notes. I’ve written “Tom Atkins” a few times.
The spectre of golf looms again.
We’re just about to head to golf when Danger, who has spent time on the bench, gets a touch. He dishes to Jez who converts.
Then Jez goals again.
The margin is 22 points.
Lucky.
“Golf?”
We look at each other.
“Nah.”
**
After half-time, the Cats show more promise.
Neale plays like he’s been set a challenge – or given an ultimatem. He takes a courageous mark in the square and the Cats edge closer. He charges at the footy and kicks another. Then Mannagh, who plays the game intelligently, mostly, finds Neale again and the Cats are within a kick.
But we can’t get in front. Freo steady, winning plenty of possession and sweeping the footy forward.
Tom Stewart, reliable all day, holds the defence together. O’Sullivan is doing his job. Humphreys continues to show poise – even when he finds himself on the dangerous Shai Bolton.
It’s a competitive game; anyone’s game; a game to be won from here.
Who will be bold? Who can be bold?
Dudley’s intent and perseverance land him another goal putting Freo nine points up and then Andrew Brayshaw, who has been quiet, is awarded a free kick, for another major. Is it slipping away?
Danger launches at a pack and emerges with a strong mark. We’re nervous about the kick but he gets the Cats to nine points down.
As players tire, the Cats look like they have some petrol left. Space opens. The good ball-users, like Miers and Humphreys, have the fraction more time they crave. Enough to be creative.
The runners get to the outside. Max Holmes, solid all day, racks up the metres but misses from long range (twice). His mobile mate Bailey Smith gets the Cats to within a kick. The crowd is finally involved. Miers round-the-corner dink just reaches Jack Martin who puts the Cats in front. Martin has been honest.
The loungeroom vibe is positive.
Neale takes a brave mark and registers his fifth. He’s had a tremendous second half and may have had a better first half had his teammates kicked to his advantage.
Freo, who didn’t play in the opening round, are spent. The Geelong boys, who did, keep running. I can just hear the Monday footy show discussions.
The Cats win by ten points.
“We’ll take that,” I say as we drive to the golf course.
Suddenly the Cats are in the mix again.
**
The signs were good. Mitch Edwards did not concede an inch and, even though he was beaten, he climbed over their ruckman a few times at centre bounce and, more importantly, he scrapped for the footy when it hit the ground. I hope he’s picked for the Crows game.
Mannagh was in and out but had an impact.
Max broke away many times.
Connor O’Sullivan was good when he needed to be and, when he was good, he set things on their way. Lawson Humphrey did too.
It’s early season and the first quarter scratchiness was penalized to the tune of eight goals and a 33-point deficit. But to find the mental strength to remain in the game and then win the game was good old Geelong of the C. Scott era.
We managed a few holes in the Hamilton twilight, had a pizza and a red.
The season wasn’t over after all.
In fact, I hit the hay with a new heart: we can actually win this.
GEELONG 3.1 8.4 13.8 16.14 (110)
FREMANTLE 8.4 11.8 14.12 14.16 (100)
GOALS
Geelong: Neale 5, Mannagh 3, Cameron 3, Clark, J. Henry, Dangerfield, Smith, Martin
Fremantle: Dudley 3, Bolton 2, Treacy 2, Serong, Amiss, Jackson, O’Driscoll, Reid, Young, Brayshaw
BEST
Geelong: Neale, Holmes, Miers, Mannagh, O’Sullivan, Cameron, Atkins, Smith.
Fremantle: Jackson, Dudley, Clark, Young.
Malarkey Votes: 3. Neale 2. Holmes 1. Dudley
INJURIES
Geelong: Nil
Fremantle: Nil
Crowd: 28,715 at GMHBA Stadium
Read more reports on the 2026 AFL Season HERE
Read more from John Harms HERE
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About John Harms
JTH is a writer, publisher, speaker, historian. He is founder and contributing editor of The Footy Almanac and footyalmanac.com.au. He has written columns and features for numerous publications. His books include Confessions of a Thirteenth Man, Memoirs of a Mug Punter, Loose Men Everywhere, Play On, The Pearl: Steve Renouf's Story and Life As I Know It (with Michelle Payne). He can be contacted [email protected] He is married to Susan. They have three school-age kids - Theo, Anna, Evie. He might not be the worst putter in the world but he's in the worst four. His ambition was to lunch for Australia but it clashed with his other ambition - to shoot his age.
Blue Castella on the banned list in Tanunda … classic
I watched Geelong haul in Freo on Kayo at the Punt Rd end while waiting for the Collingwood v Adelaide game to start. Foolishly, I thought I was watching the last quarter and that the Dockers had just held on when the siren went.
I felt a real dill when they flashed some progress scores up on the big screen about twenty five minutes later.
Watched this one deep in Dockers territory in the ironically named suburb of ‘Success’. A member of their cheersquad was there and gave the evils to me whenever he walked past on the way to the Pub TAB because of my Cats scarf. He either won or was turfed out as he didn’t return after half time much like his team. First game I’ve properly watched this season and the new ruck rule certainly makes it a bit more wild. It certainly helped Holmes. Dudders for Freo is turning in to a bit of a cult hero. Has lost a bit of the puppy fat in the offseason and is always dangerous.
In actual fact, Scratcher Neale grew up in Jandakot just over the Kwinana Freeway from Success. You would think the locals would be happy for the big engorged man brute and his bag of goals. Apparently not.