By then (if we make it) we'd have absolutely nothing to lose and go into it knowing that we've beaten them there on their own patch already this season (even though they weren't at their best that day).
Pretty confident this friday of a good showing at the very least, much more confident than I was on Saturday as well. Hope I'm not underestimating the cats but just feel as though it's a perfect opportunity for our club and the players realise that.
This for me is key – the attitude they take into the game. Listening to Brad’s presser last week he was asked if the * game was crucial and something along the lines of make or break. His reply was "they are all crucial because it is the game in front of them right now" is a good one. My reading between the lines he approached the * game as any other and didn’t try to ‘hype’ them up (78K people will do that regardless!). This sets the tone or attitude of the Geelong game. Just another game where your best is required and no such thing as the key defining moment. We the fans speculate like that as does the media but hopefully the players listen, buy in and professionally play like we hope they do. Having a red hot crack just like any other week!
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same
The full poem!
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son.
