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AFLW 2024 - Round 9 - Indigenous Round - Chat, game threads, injury lists, team lineups and more.
Little respect will be paid to Port this week and I think that is a dangerous thing.
Conversely, I hope that Geelong don't get too confident either.
Brilliant write-up, almost poetic in the imagery!!! Ecstatic that it worked out so well for you.Greetings fellow Cat’s fans. Here’s my experiece from Thursday night, for those who might be interested, or can relate…
With a mixture of loosely held optimism and blind faith I decided to fly from NZ to see the game on Thursday. On the surface, surely a fool’s errand. My son had work, so I would be attending solo. And my last experiences at AO (both in 2017) are far from cherished memories.
I was buoyed by seeing the great man himself, Joel Selwood, on my connecting flight from Melbourne, but by the time I arrived at the hotel the Tom Stewart news had be wondering why I put myself through these things.
Nonetheless, I transformed myself from an average looking middle aged male to a resplendent human, full of both good taste and high intelligence, with the simple donning of a Cats cap, and the draping of a Geelong scarf around my neck. Chef’s kiss.
Out the window I saw a young family – Mum, Dad, and two daughters – walking along the footpath head to toe in blue and white, and I thought to myself, ‘at least there’s five of us.’
Out on the street I spotted more. Far more than I expected. Strangers swapped looks of recognition and appreciation to see were out in some kind of force in enemy territory. A kid of about twenty in a Geelong jumper gave me the thumbs up, a beaming smile, and directions to the ground. Thanks son.
As I stood in line for a beer a group of three Port supporters were harping on about their midfield. ‘Nah mate, our midfield will be too good.’ They almost sounded like they were trying convince themselves, I thought. Like they were the nervous ones.
I made my way up to Bay 332 and took my seat amongst a decent scattering of blue and white. The faithful. The crazy ones. The ones that could get two days off work.
Within 30 seconds I sensed something was up. Not something special, or as incredible as what transpired, but at least that we might throw a punch. A punch or two is all a fan can ask for, right?
However, the night turned into a collection of memories I will not soon forget. I spent as much of the game off my feet as I did with ass on my seat; my hands on my head in disbelief, as often as my fist was pumping holes in the Adelaide air.
As soon as the ball left Cameron’s foot the sound came from the Cats fan’s behind the goals telegraphing genius. Surely not, I thought, but the sound only got louder and louder until it was all around me.
I counted three contests in the first half that looked like a certain Port mark or F50 turnover, that Humphries sprinted to and turned into a stoppage, or a behind. Yes, he’s a stunning kick, yes he’s composed, but he knows his first job is to defend.
By quarter time, I was proud, but worried. Had we missed too many chances? But instantly, Max Holmes took Zac Butters on a run around the wing that was almost laughable. I laughed anyway.
We turned Port into what I’ve seen lesser Geelong sides become in high pressure finals of yesteryear. Lost and nervous. We sucked them of all confidence. By the end, we had a party. Dempsey took a speccy on the wing. Stengle stole the ball out of someone’s pocket. Mannagh dominated. Our defence was rock solid. Max Holmes took a run from full back and took four bounces. Oh, okay, is that what we’re doing now?
I went down to join two bays of Cats fans by the race to cheer the boys off. Geelong teams keep it pretty low key when it comes to celebrations, and the club song, but these players faces were beaming. They knew what they’d done. And what might come. Six of them said, if this if final’s football, give me more.
I walked back to the hotel counting my lucky stars I barrack for the best club in the AFL. The next day a guy that looked a helluva lot like Jed Bews walked past me in the airport. Then I saw Jack Henry waiting for a coffee. Then one after the other they all piled out of the Virgin lounge, one legend after another, and I thought to myself, you know Adelaide’s not such a bad place after all.
Greetings fellow Cat’s fans. Here’s my experiece from Thursday night, for those who might be interested, or can relate…
With a mixture of loosely held optimism and blind faith I decided to fly from NZ to see the game on Thursday. On the surface, surely a fool’s errand. My son had work, so I would be attending solo. And my last experiences at AO (both in 2017) are far from cherished memories.
I was buoyed by seeing the great man himself, Joel Selwood, on my connecting flight from Melbourne, but by the time I arrived at the hotel the Tom Stewart news had be wondering why I put myself through these things.
Nonetheless, I transformed myself from an average looking middle aged male to a resplendent human, full of both good taste and high intelligence, with the simple donning of a Cats cap, and the draping of a Geelong scarf around my neck. Chef’s kiss.
Out the window I saw a young family – Mum, Dad, and two daughters – walking along the footpath head to toe in blue and white, and I thought to myself, ‘at least there’s five of us.’
Out on the street I spotted more. Far more than I expected. Strangers swapped looks of recognition and appreciation to see were out in some kind of force in enemy territory. A kid of about twenty in a Geelong jumper gave me the thumbs up, a beaming smile, and directions to the ground. Thanks son.
As I stood in line for a beer a group of three Port supporters were harping on about their midfield. ‘Nah mate, our midfield will be too good.’ They almost sounded like they were trying convince themselves, I thought. Like they were the nervous ones.
I made my way up to Bay 332 and took my seat amongst a decent scattering of blue and white. The faithful. The crazy ones. The ones that could get two days off work.
Within 30 seconds I sensed something was up. Not something special, or as incredible as what transpired, but at least that we might throw a punch. A punch or two is all a fan can ask for, right?
However, the night turned into a collection of memories I will not soon forget. I spent as much of the game off my feet as I did with ass on my seat; my hands on my head in disbelief, as often as my fist was pumping holes in the Adelaide air.
As soon as the ball left Cameron’s foot the sound came from the Cats fan’s behind the goals telegraphing genius. Surely not, I thought, but the sound only got louder and louder until it was all around me.
I counted three contests in the first half that looked like a certain Port mark or F50 turnover, that Humphries sprinted to and turned into a stoppage, or a behind. Yes, he’s a stunning kick, yes he’s composed, but he knows his first job is to defend.
By quarter time, I was proud, but worried. Had we missed too many chances? But instantly, Max Holmes took Zac Butters on a run around the wing that was almost laughable. I laughed anyway.
We turned Port into what I’ve seen lesser Geelong sides become in high pressure finals of yesteryear. Lost and nervous. We sucked them of all confidence. By the end, we had a party. Dempsey took a speccy on the wing. Stengle stole the ball out of someone’s pocket. Mannagh dominated. Our defence was rock solid. Max Holmes took a run from full back and took four bounces. Oh, okay, is that what we’re doing now?
I went down to join two bays of Cats fans by the race to cheer the boys off. Geelong teams keep it pretty low key when it comes to celebrations, and the club song, but these players faces were beaming. They knew what they’d done. And what might come. Six of them said, if this if final’s football, give me more.
I walked back to the hotel counting my lucky stars I barrack for the best club in the AFL. The next day a guy that looked a helluva lot like Jed Bews walked past me in the airport. Then I saw Jack Henry waiting for a coffee. Then one after the other they all piled out of the Virgin lounge, one legend after another, and I thought to myself, you know Adelaide’s not such a bad place after all.
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VFL team out in straight sets. Disappointing as it's the last chance for those players to push for selection and losing successive finals including a home final does not look good on a resume. Knevitt staked his claim and Cam Guthrie helped his cause. Tom Hawkins not so much.based on the pile of shit served up in the VFL only Stewart will come in baring any further injuries this final series you’d think
The actions of a bloke who knows he's past it. Staggering this wasn't given a 50m penalty too.
Jesus... When was this?
About two seconds after he marked itJesus... When was this?
Players have harnessed self-belief in their individual strengths + the team cohesion is stronger than ever.I have to admit I didn’t think the team was capable of just flicking the switch for the finals …even more so with Stewart out
But they were all switched on which is what we have been hoping for to happen
I tip my hat to the club it was remarkable to see that happen after the form slump and the inconsistency shown the last few weeks,
Well if he is worth nothing then surely they take our pick 36 for him.Yikes the Port fans are sticking the boots into Rozee on their board.
He had a bad game, but he's a good player.
Harsh game sometimes.
Yeah, it's bloody exciting. I remember watching his VFL highlights when he first arrived. I sent it to my brother and said: we'll see how we go but these are the most incredible pre-AFL highlights I've ever seen.
You never know how someone is going to adjust and translate their form to the next level but boy has he done well. Very impressive.
This was the video:
Plus Port fans were booing MannaghMannagh basically kicked 5, had two goals picked off by teammates on the line. Superb performance.
If only we’d known, could’ve been Rozee & Humphries for Esava.Well if he is worth nothing then surely they take our pick 36 for him.
Poort fans would boo their own kids if they didn’t get 30 & 2 on a Saturday morning.Plus Port fans were booing Mannagh
He has arrived on the big stage