Zoop, Zop, Zip!
Shootout, shootout! Bang, bang, pow, zip!
Gunna write it like I saw it, if only because writing in bed will make my tight hammies a mess playing in the rain tomorrow. No structure.
Pow, zip, like the game I just watched. For full effect YouTube some machinegun fire, or sound effects of an old school typewriter, or steaming kettle.
Sometimes it takes two players to grab a game by the throat. Rankin and Tex were amazing when it counted.
How funny that Tex got it to Rankine who got it back to Tex to seal the thing.
Massimo, a ding-dong battle of the best in the nation. Goal for goal, momentum for momentum, skills, courage, everywhere. Bodies flying. The Wizard CRUNCHES a tackle. Just WHACK! A lot of yellow and brown throw their bodies at everything, come out hurting, keep going. Hawthorn coming back AGAIN! Cometh the hour, cometh you. 20 out, set shot. Gifted by pain.
A miss.
OF COURSE the Crows go down the other end. Of course Rankine shows you how. Pantses that bloke who looks like Hodge, and wears Hodge’s number, but is not Hodge.
Two goal turn around. Game over.
Hawks match review will replay that one. Nobody defensive side of the ruck contest. And replay it, and replay it.
This was the big stage. Everything, everybody more than human. Except missing 20 out, that was pretty human.
Ginni, you’re heart and soul. Heart on sleeve. Ham and cheese. Keep up the vaudeville mate. Ear to the crowd, this cocky motion, that. Give them fuel! To love and hate and feel! Sure, when the Hawks lose it comes back at you, but so damn what? You are what we need; exciting to watch and a genuine character. Your skills are off charts! Give those who love skills something to marvel over. Give the haters something to be glorious over. KEEP GIVING! Don’t stop being you! Ever!
Meek, you’re handy, a good’un, but Big Donk had ya. Big Donk knew Big Donk a big donk. Big Donk no tap to advantage. Big Donk smash! Like Hulk! “Me smash forward!” When Big Donk get ball; “No fancy. Me handball to little creatures with reflexes.”
Big Donk do good.
Worpel, I like him a lot. But he comes on as the sub and just stuffs up everything. A man too rushed, and man out of form and down on confidence. You were meant to be an ace up the sleeve. Three of hearts at best tonight, sorry.
Tex. Just Tex.
Okay, more on Tex. Here’s some math.
How many winning Crows games had Tex played in? Subtract maybe ten of them, and that’s how many games he has won for them. Just knows when. Can execute ‘when’.
Curtin and Berry both have good go. Both “If in, all in” sort of players.
Choi, where were you in the second half of bang, bang, pow, wiz, man? Lots of long bomb in for Hawthorn. Your job as a big body who doesn’t get a lot of it, it to squeezed the air out of the ball now and then, but mostly, turn packs into houses of cards. Brake arms and legs and hearts and let the Wiz and Gin swoop! Worrell looks like a lost café late, but, mate, he marked everything! Uncontested.
Worrell, you little, not at all little, but look little, quiet achiever! You can read a game, brother.
Sicily, mate, screw the doubters! You were everywhere! Have been everywhere, lately. Kept the Hawks in it all by your own. Everybody jumping, and flying, and falling, and there you are. Clunk. The no bullshit of the airways.
Ping, pow, zop.
Thilthorpe is cultivating that hillbilly thing, good on him, why not? I miss Ben Hudson. But he doesn’t clunk them. He’s got really good fingers. He beasts his body free of arms and legs and packs, and… fshp… the ball just floats into his digits. As it did tonight, not a huge amount, but when needed. Tex lessons, maybe.
Hawthorn would kill for one of you.
Jai is a beast, but doesn’t dominate.
Impey is all class.
Mark Keane was hilarious! I love the underdog, but brother, 1. Gunston pantsed you. 2. You panicked, and pantsed yourself. Twice you gave away frees more obvious than Liberace, just plain YANKED his arm, then gave Meryl Streep’s to the umpire over it. Outraged! Indignant! Flabbergasted! “Surely the free is mine… WHAT!?! YOU’RE JOKING!”
I was laughing out loud. Cult hero status.
Adelaide were great on the double comeback, from twice looking like winning it, then losing it and up and down and sideways, but it still felt like Hawthorn lost it.
They run so well, it almost compensates for the fact the Crows have much better forwards, but Hawthorn are their own worst enemies. A stupid handball here, a dumb option there.
A set-shot miss from 20 out when the game is in the balance.
You needed Tex, if only for five minutes.
I guess that’s a part of being young colts.
That excuse will wear off soon enough. You’re long term game is also in the balance. Richmond had a ‘youth policy’ for 35 years, until they developed a winning policy.
Crows, you’ve got that good mix. Young and old and lots of solid bodies.
Strategy? For the game? The Crows had a bit more open forward line. That was it, really. Big Donk set the tone; forward, forward.
The match was just too close for patience and out-the-back-and-across-the-oval-to-much-the-same-on-the-ther-side. Yeah, all the top teams use it, premierships are built around it… but yawn. Out-the-back was covered. Down the line it was! Cut through the middle, take ‘em on, CHARGE! All game long.
Zoop, zop, zip!
A miss, then Tex and Rankine.
What a ripper!
A stretch and sleep. It’s been a big week in the bush. Let it rain, let it rain. The ranges need it. I need it. It will slow those mosquitos down tomorrow. Game 730-something.
Read more from Matt Zurbo HERE.
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So good, Old Dog. After reading one of your reports with its enthusiasms and sharp insights my first thought is always ‘Gee, I love footy.’ Thanks for the affirmations.
A ripper thing to say to a bloke, Mickey! And a ripper result! Thank you.
Two games of finals (like) footy played this weekend, This was one of them. The rest was inconsequential. Thing I liked about this one is, as much as I like numbers, numbers (other than the scoreboard) do not explain the difference between the two teams in this one. Reckon that was O’Brien’s most substantial game. Berry (accurately described) flattered by a comparison to Curtin who is a 6’6 midfielder in his first full season. Him and Thilthorpe, Crows might have two of the best players going around in a year or two. But, yeah, Tex and Rankine – they know they’re going to do what they set out to do. Infectious belief, no numbers for that!
Great pulsating read Matt, in synch with the game. Hopefully a teaser for finals month but with a better result for the mighty Hawks. That dream was dinted with Saturday’s news that Day was done for the season. Crows mere sublime. Cheers
Good stuff OD – enjoyable but yet again umpiring destroying the game with incidental contact in a marking contest being payed a free kick 1 to Fogarty and 1 to Ginnivan horrendous.Last 1 to Gunston personally I wouldn’t have called but it wasn’t a howler like the other 2 – the instructions used to be pay the -1st warranted free kick don’t dare guess which is exactly what should happen.Tex and Rankine composure in the crunch vital
Very gonzo and cut through Old Dog.
Loved it