Round 8 – West Coast v St Kilda: We got shmushed.

West Coast Eagles v St Kilda

Subiaco Oval

Sunday 15th May 2016 4.40pm


“Good luck Sainters” messages my sister Denise on her 58th birthday.  She was at the Doggies game and very happy indeed. I was going to go with her, but a bad cold has laid me low, and instead I was at home watching Carlton get their 4th win and the Doggies continue their good run.

I had no good expectations of the game in Western Australia; the last game last year they slammed us by 95 points. And I was there at that game, and it was pretty horrible to watch. We haven’t improved enough to make that any better, and my prophesies proved to be correct.

All my enjoyment of the afternoon came from texts. Glenn and Debbie, my Almanacker mate and Almanac editor and his wife, just got on the plane to Australia and would be out of touch with the game. Lucky Glenn. Yoshi was in his regular pub in Japan, and Uncle Bob and Gary were at Gary’s place.

When Kennedy got the first two within 2 minutes, Hutchings, LeCras, LeCras and Kennedy laid us low, before Darling, Kennedy and Kennedy kept it up. Nine goals.  NINE. Finally, Steven got one back from better play and passes, and here we are, the game decided before the siren went.

“Bugger” texts Denise when I tell her the score.

Yoshi is at least more hopeful, “Our great ball work came back! Let’s hope we are playing better onwards!!”

Now, I dreamed, we need a 10-goal quarter.

The second quarter the Saints stepped up and began defending and at least having a crack.  Fifteen minutes in, we have prevented West Coast from scoring. That was a big win. Hutchings got another, Lonie missed, Riewoldt missed but LeCras and Cripps didn’t.  To help through the quarter, Bruce and Membrey miss, too. Bruce misses again just to top off a great afternoon of Saints footy.

Uncle Bob shares the Saints’ gloom, “Not looking good” and later, “1st half so bad” with a crying emoji. Go Uncle Bob.  Didn’t know he used emoji’s. I agree with the emoji.

So we go into half time with an 11-goal deficit.

Yoshi, having a nice day off, is more positive:

“In the second quarter, we did great ball works like passing. That’s only (what) I can find.”

I replied:

“I will take that..and we did stop their run of goals.”

The commentators on Fox were still remaining St Kilda positive.  They said Saints are going to have ups and downs because we are young.  And this was very down.

I messaged WA Almanacker Peter Baulderstone, at Subiaco enjoying his good self.

“I can see you smile from here,” I said.

“Wish you were here, you’d get a game.”

“I’m glad I didn’t travel to this game,” I replied.

Ever the wit, and not at all rubbing it in, Peter replied, “At Subi and loving it.  You are being outmuscled. Scared kids looking lost. Rooey is have a mare.”

At this stage, I contemplated switching and watching a mushy movie, but if the boys had to endure the slaughter so will I.

Yoshi becomes my constant companion over the afternoon, and I text more than I watch.

Me: Better quarter but we are stuffed.

Yoshi: Yes, we are stuffed. We should not allow Kennedy to get the ball.

From your lips, Yoshi, to God’s ears. And Kennedy didn’t get any more spectacular goals.

Rina chimes in at this point, having just seen the score.

“OMG. Poor guys. Worn out by last week efforts. I do hope they can find some inner strength for the second half.”

Her words ring in my ears as Bruce gets the first goal of the second half.  Perhaps it’s the comeback.  We only need 12 goals to be even. Gresham becomes very active.

The commentators say, “St Kilda are doing a lot right, just can’t finish off the hard work.”

I spot the double rainbow in the background of the ground, which has had sun and rain in unison. There were no pots of goals at the end of the rainbow for the Saints. Rain, wind and rainbows. It’s so slippery, and I ask the footy gods for no injuries at least. (This thankfully, the footy gods granted me.)

With Glenn and Debbie coming to the next two games against Essendon and Fremantle, I want a fully fit team. And more than a snowflake’s chance in hell.

Lycett and LeCras distract me from my meanderings.

I think the Saints boys are going to have a crappy flight home, but at least they get away.

It’s 70 points the difference.

“They just can’t hit the target,” say the commentators.

I am impressed with Lonie’s fierce tackling.

LeCras goals again.

“It’s like a car crash,” I write to Yoshi, “I just can’t look away.”

Yoshi has the true heart of a loyal supporter.

“Even in horrible (games), I am watching it to show my loyalty. It’s a lesson to be positive for my mental (well-being).”

“You are perfectly correct,” I reply. “Well done for reminding me.”

“Thanks. I used to stop but decided to stick with my boys no matter what the score last year.”

At ¾ time, WCE are 98 and Saints are 21.

Riewoldt misses another one, but Darling doesn’t.

Hill goals one, and I wonder at how dominant Nic Nat has been. Subiaco has become our house of pain, our torture chamber.

For the first time I can remember, I am antsy for the final siren.  For the poor boys on the field to be put out of their misery. Did one of the commentators really say this was the Saints’ lowest score since 1957? Checking Google later, I see that in 1899 was 1 point, so that’s something.  We got 11 in ’57.

Weller got Saints’ 3rd goal for the night, McGovern, Yeo and LeCras just finished us off.  We were beaten by 103 points. Their team averaged 100 games a player; ours, without Riewoldt and Dempster and Montagna, averaged 50.  It says a lot.

Yoshi ended on a positive note: We’d stopped Kennedy as the kicking machine after his 5 in the first quarter. We shared the pain. It was almost like watching the game together. And we play Essendon next week with Glenn and Debbie in attendance. I deleted the game immediately, never to be seen or heard of again. That’s all positive.

Rachel, my daughter in Japan, rings me.  She says, “We got shmushed,” and in one moment I have a title.  Now finishing this article, I feel purged. Bring on next week and Alan Richardson’s soothing words when he gets home. (It seems even Richo had nothing to say post-game, and come Monday morning am still awaiting my coaches message.)

Carn the Saints.

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About Yvette Wroby

Yvette Wroby writes, cartoons, paints through life and gets most pleasure when it's about football, and more specifically the Saints. Believes in following dreams and having a go.


  1. You neglected my final 6.20pm WST text after the game: “Boys against men. Sleep well. They will.”
    Still keeping the porch light on for Harold Holt? The Saints did me a big favour sacking my heroes Stan Alves and Malcolm Blight. Haven’t looked back since I came on board with the Avenging Eagle.

  2. Hi Yvette,

    Thanks for mentioning about me in the article. It was so painful for both of us. I can’t believe what happened with the mighty Saints after the close game against Kangaroos.

    Like looking away car crash, I decided not to listen to SEN’s Final Siren show on that day or any SEN show on Monday or Tuesday. But I got a day off today with a short notice, so I tuned in Andy Maher’s Afternoon show, the Name Game on the Run Home and the beginning of the Evenings with Mark Finey. Luckily I didn’t hear any St Kilda issue and instead Andy from Pakenham suggesting rules about a draft for a women footy league on Finey’s show.

    Let’s have a hope we will win at least two in a row.

    Carn the Saints


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