Port Adelaide

Of my people.

I’ve realised over the years that people arrive at their football team one of two ways – they are either born to them or they choose them. The born to people are the ones who grow up in a family who support the one club or live in the club’s homeland. The choose to people are those who give consideration to who they are going to support, weigh up all the options and then make a decision based on gut instinct or some other intangible. Both paths are equally powerful and can deliver a lifetime of impact.

My family are all born to people. I am a choose to person. And doesn’t that cause friction.

Let me explain. All five of us are NSW born and bred, people who grew up watching and playing rugby league on cold weekends. Later it was also rugby union that fought for our attention and similarly divided us into NSW Waratahs v ACT Brumbies supporters. We all arrived late at the game we often referred to as “aerial ping pong” and it wasn’t until the Sydney Swans made the 1996 grand final that we took any interest in AFL at all.

So being good NSW people, dad and mum and both my brothers went with the Swans and have stayed true to them since. They’ve seen them play in five grand finals and win two of them. One of my all time favourite memories is racing into the city after the 2012 grand final win to meet up with my brother Paul who had come down to watch the game. As I walked into his hotel lobby he stepped out of the lift and we ran excitedly towards each other, hugging and jumping up at down in excitement at Sydney’s win. I have long adored the team of my people and for many years I also had a Swans membership. I love seeing them play well and I will cheer cheer the red and the white so hard against almost any other team in the competition – except one.

Port Adelaide. My team, the team I chose. Picked in the summer the year before they started in the AFL in 1997, they were the new team, I was the new supporter and they were going to be mine. The specifics of my reasoning have faded over time but my support has not, even when they break my heart like they have done this year. I’ve watched them play in two grand finals, winning one. I was at the MCG on the day of the losing grand final, one of the worst scorelines in history, and stayed right until the bitter end. Then I got hideously drunk at a pub in the city with my Geelong supporting best friend, vomited under a table and lost my 2004 premiership scarf.

I dread the couple of times a year Port Adelaide plays Sydney and I pre-emptively cringe when I look at those rounds when the new draw comes out. I know they are going to be tough because my family makes it tough. Port has the worst record against Sydney so I invariably end up bruised and battered after facing the brunt of their piss taking. My brothers can be particularly brutal so as much as I love Sydney, there is absolutely no team I’d rather beat.

Of course, my nightmare is a Port Adelaide v Sydney grand final.

It certainly won’t be happening this year, though not though any fault of the Swans who look red hot. Even missing key position players Lance Franklin and Kurt Tippett through suspension they still managed to get over the line last Thursday night by 10 points. What a heartbreaker. Port looked valiant at times but never really good enough to win, though they kept me guessing right until the bitter end (thanks for nothing).

There’s really not much to say about Port Adelaide this year that I haven’t said already and I can’t see much point re-capping another ordinary outing in detail. We’ve been wildly disappointing in a season where I think I could realistically say many of us dared to dream we’d be premiers. Week after week they’ve let me down and it’s getting harder and harder to watch the games. The one small point that has consoled me recently is a piece I read by Malcolm Blight who said most teams that experience a significant increase in form – like Port did over the 2013-14 seasons – generally hit a plateau before rising again. In 2006 Geelong finished 10th and in 2007 they were premiers. So it can be done. All I’ve got to do now is keep the faith.

Thursday was one of the most topsy turvy days I’ve had in a long, long time. It started with some poorly delivered news I didn’t get a job I’d applied for, then a couple of hours later I got a medal for some work I did a few years ago in the job I already have and love. My current colleagues said some gorgeous things that made me feel valued and the colleagues I nearly had expressed the right amount of outrage I wasn’t going to be theirs. I bantered with new friends then had drinks with some old. People told me my hair looked good (always a win). My parents told me they were proud. Despite some wildly fluctuating circumstances I realised that I really am surrounded by good people and that there are great things to come this year. Everything will be OK.

And of course, the team I chose got beaten by the team of my people. Of all days it had to happen on that one. But you know, I still wouldn’t change my choice for anything.

Vale Phil Walsh.

“Because when some footy people hurt, we all hurt.”

I read that line on Friday morning, just hours after waking to the desperately tragic news that Adelaide Crows coach Phil Walsh had been murdered. Friends had already begun to send disbelieving text messages and it seemed almost inconceivable that this had occurred. I think shock was, and is, still the primary reaction of most people.

Walsh was much loved at my club Port Adelaide, where he spent 11 seasons as an assistant coach including the premiership winning 2004 season. His contribution to the short history of our AFL club was immense both as a person and an employee. When he left last year it was with the best wishes of everyone at the Power and the feeling he was ready to make his mark as an AFL coach. To read so many heart felt pieces from Port players past and present over the last couple of days highlights just how much we still felt like he was one of our own.

Was. The hardest word to say at a time like this.

Watching the Collingwood and Hawthorn players link arms in the centre of the MCG on Friday night was an incredibly powerful moment that lost none of its poignancy as it was repeated through the rest of the round’s games. It was led by Alastair Clarkson, a man who spent time coaching at Port Adelaide alongside Walsh. Then I saw Damien Hardwick following the Richmond game and was reminded he would have played under Walsh at the Power, as did his assistant coach Brendan Lade. Another assistant, Mark Williams was one of Walsh’s best mates and of course the Port coach in that premiership year. Their opponents, GWS, have two former Power players in Chad Cornes and Dean Brogan as assistant coaches. On and on it went; having played at three clubs and coached at four there is no doubt so many people felt like Walsh was in some way one of their own.

And clearly football fans have all felt the same way too. Tributes built up steadily through the day outside the Adelaide Football Club’s headquarters with the navy, yellow and red sitting alongside the teal, black and white in a unique mark of respect. People took to social media to post photographs of their club scarves tied outside homes and offices in a show of solidarity amongst the football community. #weflyasone has never seemed so apt.

I can’t begin to imagine what the Walsh family is going through now, compounded no doubt by the fact their family has been so shattered by the loss of not just a father and husband, but also a son and a brother. It’s just unthinkable and almost unbearably sad. I hope those who knew and loved Walsh best take some comfort from the fact that all footy people feel like they have lost someone special – because when some footy people hurt, we all hurt.

Rest easy, Phil Walsh. How precious and fragile this life is.

Bringin’ on the heartbreak.

These are getting harder to write every week.

On Friday I will admit I nearly cried all the way home after the game – or, I should say, during the final quarter of the game. I was working afternoon shift and not due to finish until 8pm. This meant if we were busy and I had to work all the way though, I’d make it home some time in the third quarter. So a colleague and I ordered pizza and settled in.

I suppose both my offsiders got an unexpected glimpse into what kind of supporter I am. I turned the sound down to almost mute because I couldn’t take the commentators. All the non Victorians will know what I mean when I say they always tend to try and ride a Vic team home. I grabbed a wooden ruler and twisted it repeatedly in my hands because otherwise I’m going to end up with scarring across my knuckles from digging my nails in. And then I paced. And paced. And jerked around. All while being totally silent in a mostly silent room. Nah, that wouldn’t have been odd at all.

The first quarter was good. We looked like we might have this one and even pushed out to a five goal lead at one stage. It felt like we were just getting the car warmed up and were waiting to accelerate off down the road. Then the Cats got a couple of lucky ones – that Robbie Gray handball kicked mid-air by Motlop springs to mind – and it was closer than I wanted.

Second quarter was alright but not as promising. Third quarter I waited for that acceleration to kick in and it just never did. Every time we grabbed a goal I expected the tide would start to turn but Port just didn’t want to put the effort in. It’s like they were doing just enough to stay in it and give me hope without actually wanting to win.

At three quarter time I packed my on call gear up and headed to the car. It was the vibe… And I was right because by all accounts we were hideous in that final 30 minutes. I just couldn’t bear to see this happen again and be forced to stand there while the Cats belted out their song. So I drove home, mostly in silence, and wanted to cry. The next couple of days I struggled to shake off the glum feeling because that was a win we definitely should have grabbed. It was a Friday night game at home FFS!

Wingard was sensational, the one shining light on an average night. The thing that pleased me most is that he played such an unselfish team game despite his individual brilliance. Shows to me how much he’s maturing as a player. Carlisle also tried hard and pretty much kept Hawkins right out of the game. Hombsch continues to improve each week as well; right now it’s our backline holding us up because out forwards don’t seem to be able to find a kick anywhere. Our game plan has stalled and we struggle under pressure. The fitness just doesn’t seem to be there or maybe it’s the willingness.

This is getting harder and harder and more heartbreaking each week. I want that side who kicked 60 God damn points in a quarter against last year’s premiers to run out again. Because the way we’re going, we’re not going to see September, not one tiny little bit.

On the grind.

I remember watching Port Adelaide’s first game this year against Fremantle and feeling very disappointed at the end of it. As the team many were tipping to win the flag this year, I was gutted that Port led all game only to fall short at the end. Of course, that’s before Fremantle won their first nine games in a row and started having the season the Power were expected to have. While the Dockers have blitzed nearly everything in their way, Port’s season has turned into a slog.

The problem is, of course, that when we’re good we’re very very good (v Hawthorn – that opening quarter!) and when we’re bad we’re horrid (v Brisbane). Sitting at 9th on the ladder with five wins from 10 games is not where we’d hoped to be. We absolutely have the toughest draw in he AFL but whinging about it won’t change anything and at the end of the day, you’re pretty much gonna have to beat everyone if you’re gonna win the flag. But I switch on a game every weekend and rather than sitting back, relaxing and enjoying it, I’m always nervous and concerned – which Port Adelaide is going to show up?

Last weekend wasn’t much different. The 38-point win over the Bulldogs belied what a tough, close and grinding game it was for the first three quarters. While Port led at every change, the highest quarter break margin was only the 16-point lead we had at half time. I never had the ability to settle in because I was always a few seconds away from panicking we were going lose this. Nothing like living on the edge, right? Most of the contests involved hard tackling and subsequent stacks on of players jostling for the ball until the game looked like nothing more than a series of throw ups from the umpire.

Port aren’t back at it’s best but to use the key word again, we’re grinding there. I think the loss to Brisbane was particularly damaging for our confidence and often we seem to forget that we know how and are capable of playing good footy. Sure, other teams have probably figured us out a bit this season and we’ve lost the element of surprise, but we’re just not looking as consistently free flowing and assured as we have been in the past couple of seasons. The last quarter we regained a bit of that, kicked straight, and did the requisite damage on the score board. It was nice to see a bit of percentage added on and the boys run out eventual clear winners.

Wingard had an absolutely magic game and was best on ground for mine. I liked his effort all night and he competed well, tackling, setting up other players and kicking a couple himself. He’s just got the cliché silky skills. Wines had a cracker, as did Westhoff and Boaky did well even with two Dogs tagging him. Robbie Gray again, man… Just a pleasure to watch. I’m not sure I’ve ever appreciated him so much as I have this year and what he brings to our team is almost immeasurable. I’ve called him the Rolls Royce before and honestly, sometimes it’s like watching a race where the Rolls is lining up against the Datsun 180Bs. He’s just that good.

We play Geelong this Friday night in Adelaide and are favorites with the bookies, though the churning in my gut hasn’t subsided. Still nervous. I’m not sure you can take much from the Cats’ 69-point demolition of Essendon as an indication of how they’ll come to play against Port but clearly they’ll be feeling OK going in. And will both teams sitting at five wins for the season this will be a crucial scalp for Port to capture – all the while I’ll be shredding my hands to pieces and hoping for the absolute best.

300.

I’ve waited nearly a week to post this because I wanted to marshal my thoughts and not fire off simply based on emotion.

I’ll start by telling a story: at the end of September I’m taking three months off my job to travel across the US, Canada, Cuba and Mexico. It’s the absolute trip of a life time and I’m very much looking forward to it. I’ve been on a couple of overseas trips over the past few years and each time I’ve made sure to go after the footy season is over. I adore finals footy and grand final day is even better than Christmas in my mind. This year I wanted to take my extended trip and there wasn’t really a way to do it that allowed me to see out the season.

So I opened up my calendar and requested three months off starting on the 29 August. That would mean I’d been away for around five weeks before grand final day. Given Port Adelaide’s amazing ascension over the past two seasons I was certain this was going to be our year and I’d be destined to miss out on it. I’m not sure I could bear it. I also have a membership that gives me access to the ticket ballot for the GF meaning it was not only likely we’d be there but that I could go. So I made the executive decision that if Port made the grand final, I’d fly back. I’d throw $1500 at the problem and make sure I was home for that last weekend in September (or first weekend in October as the case may be).

Unfortunately my dad has decided to retire this year after 39 years in the New South Wales police force and his retirement function has been set for 19 September. Which then necessitated pushing my holiday back by three weeks and with it being too close to the grand final weekend, I’ve come to the sad realisation that I won’t have been away long enough to make it worthwhile to come back, nor is the time frame short enough that I can just push my holiday back until after the game.

The other sad realisation has, of course, been that Port Adelaide don’t look to be half the team they were in 2014 or even 2013 and are less likely to make the grand final than I assumed. We’re showing flashes of brilliance but the consistency, the determination the excitement and the run just don’t seem to be there. So no matter what my holiday planning looks like, it may not even matter.

The loss against Richmond last weekend was disgraceful, particularly given we were sending club stalwart Kane Cornes off after 300 games. Unlike some of our earlier losses this season Port never ever looked to be in the game. The Tigers had it all over us from the first bounce and at no stage did the Power even look like we were going to win. It was sloppy, indecisive football punctuated by kicks out on the full, kicks to opposition players and a total lack of options. Cornes was valiant and Gray tried hard, but we were like a Rolls Royce with a dead engine and no GPS.

God I wanted to smack the smile off that smug prick Riewoldt’s face.

On the day we were beaten by a team that played better and wanted it more, but we weren’t beaten by a better team. Port Adelaide are still the same side that fell short in a prelim by only three points last year, we’re still the same side that put on 60 points in a quarter against last year’s grand final winners, still the same side that can play exciting, dynamic and most importantly, winning, footy. This Port team is an incredibly talented team. We just need to step up and show that and I don’t know why we seemingly can’t.

I was at my best friend’s house watching the game with her family and to be honest, I was dying to leave with about 10 minutes to go but we hadn’t eaten our dessert yet. And I didn’t want to act like too much of a petulant child. And the dessert was lemon meringue pie, so… I stuck it out. I won’t lie, it really, really, really hurt. How dare they let someone like Cornes, someone who has given us so much for so long, go off with that type of insipid performance? I’m not sure why we couldn’t dig deep enough to show him the respect he deserved.

I was pretty flat that night and through the next day. Then I saw the above picture on social media and it kind of jolted me back to reality. Because it’s true, we’re only a short way into a long season. While we may not look like immediate premiers, we still have 14 rounds in which to prove ourselves.

It’s not over and we’re not done, not by a long shot. So let’s do this.

And thanks for the memories Kane. As Kenny said, “Kane Cornes is Port Adelaide.” Go well mate.

I can’t even deal.

That was probably the most insipid performance by the Port Adelaide football club under the Ken Hinkley regime. An absolute disgrace. I couldn’t even bear to stay to watch the end. To be beaten comprehensively by the team at the very bottom of the ladder is disgusting.

I think that sound is our team collapsing under the weight of this season’s expectations.

The let down.

I think it’s fair to say that any game which finishes with you leaving the venue you’re watching it at before the final siren goes and then Tweeting, “Fuck this shit” isn’t going to go down as one of your all time greats.

After last week looking like the team I know they can be, Port just reverted to the same mistakes we’ve been making all year and let the West Coast Eagles back in to win by 10 points. Again, another game we lost rather than the opposition getting the better of us and possibly one that’s going to hurt for a while yet.

I started work at 5am this morning after only about three hours sleep so a nap was in order this afternoon. I woke up to realise I’d missed the first quarter, checked the score and then headed down to the local pub I seem to have become something of a weekend fixture at. Side note: these 4.40pm Sunday games are shitting me.

Anyway, we went into half time with a decent lead and then came out for the third quarter and promptly dropped the bundle. It’s been noted quite a few times now but the discrepancy in inside 50s is just doing us in. Because we’re letting the other team have a greater level of attack, Port are having to rely on a) our defence continually holding us up (which it has and has been the only thing keeping us in games at times) and b) ensuring we score a goal off every inside 50 we get. It’s no way to live.

I’ve said it before and I’m going to say it again; we look tired. For a team that has so publicly talked about the work put into our fitness regime in the off season, Port just don’t look like they’re up and about, at least not in the way we have in the past two years. I don’t know if we’re just holding on and going to show our cards in the area as the season wears on, but right now I don’t see a team that looks fresh.

Something else that someone on social media questioned – which I hadn’t thought of – is the influence of Michael Voss. Unfortunately our midfield hasn’t looked as effective under his tutelage. Clearly Phil Walsh was excellent in this area, hence why he now has a job as a senior coach at a different club, but I’m not yet convinced Vossy has made a positive impact at Port Adelaide. I’m going to hold fire on blaming him just yet but it certainly is food for thought.

Stunned is probably the best way to describe the feeling after this loss. I think it was definitely a game all Port fans thought we would win, especially given we were playing at home. This season has been one of the most topsy turvy in a while and we’re all starting to expect the unexpected, I don’t expect the Power to keep playing this way. To be the best then we need to be more consistent – and sort out those inside 50s.

For a team who’s motto is ‘We never ever give up’, Port Adelaide have spent more than their fair share of games this season simply rolling over. Enough is enough. If we don’t put some massive percentage on next week against Brisbane then I’m going to be very unhappy.

Showdown XXXVIII

Oh hey there, I know you. You’re Port Adelaide.

It’s a comforting feeling watching your football team and recognising them by the way they play. For the first few rounds of this season it feels like something has been slightly off kilter at the Power. Last year’s dominance and accuracy appeared to be MIA, even in the win over North in which the team struggled to hold the lead at the end. It wasn’t until that awe inspiring first quarter against the Hawks that I thought we might still have it in us, but the insipid final term left lingering doubt. Tonight though, I recognised us.

We are Port Adelaide. And we’re back.

Showdown is always an intensely competed game regardless of where each of the Adelaide based teams sit on the ladder at the time. There’s something about it that lifts each side to play at a level that’s almost out of place in the home and away season. It’s not just playing for four points, it’s playing for pride and local dominance. I’ve been to two Showdowns in Adelaide, both won by Port, and have fond memories of watching the great Chad Cornes absolutely give it to the Crows fans in a 2006 game at AAMI Park (which I was hung over as hell watching and seated right in the sun). Not being a native South Australian I can’t comment on what the week is like in workplaces and schools and households across the state, and I don’t have that born hatred of Adelaide that most Port fans cultivate. But I know I bloody well enjoy beating them.

Tonight’s 24-point win in the Crows’ home game at Adelaide Oval seemed to be something of a revival. Port lead at every break but it’s how we led that was impressive. This is the first time this season I’ve really seen us scrap for every contested ball – we worked our guts out tonight chasing anything and everything down. Travis Boak really played a captain’s game here and his second and third efforts seemed to lift the side and inspire them to do the same. I thought a lot of the time Port were very unlucky not to get frees for tackling the Crows players and causing a holding the ball offence, however the umpires seemed content to let it go. Our defence was strong as Adelaide repeatedly sent the ball into their 50 and to be fair, poor kicking by the Crows really let them down in the first half

One of my favourite things though was how incredible Lobbe and Ryder seem to be working in the ruck together. I reckon this is the first game where they’ve really found their groove and it was a pleasure to watch them get first hands on the ball and repeatedly tap to a hard running Port player. Schultz didn’t miss a kick and he’s such a valuable asset; when he has the ball we know we’re in safe hands. It was also good to see Gray back in the side because that man is just a Rolls Royce. Absolute class.

Tonight was nerve wracking but no damage to my hands to report this week. Instead it just kept me on the edge of my seat all night (and nervously stopped me from finishing all my chicken parma) as the Crows kept finding a way to bridge the gap to under 10 points. With the spectre of last week’s hideous fourth quarter still casting a shadow over Adelaide Oval I was slightly concerned, however the team did me proud this week and really ensured they dominated through to the end.

I don’t have Fox Footy at home so games like this that aren’t shown on free to air TV are always tricky for me. I could have stayed back an extra two hours at work and watched the game there but it probably would have been annoying for my colleagues to have on and I’m not sure my reputation can take the battering of having them all know what I’m like when I watch football. Plus I don’t really want to be hanging around at work in case it gets busy. I could have listened to it on the radio but it’s just not the same. In the end I went down to a local pub in Camberwell only to find the Essendon v St Kilda match was being played on the big screen and we’d been relegated to the back of the bar. Never mind, I ordered a pint of Carlton Draught and settled in next to the bar flies. Lucky they all seemed to be going for the Power. Later when the Victorian game had finished, I switched to watching it on the big screen and ordered some dinner, plus I ended up sitting next to another lone Power fan so it was nice to have a chat to one of my people. There was also two blokes nearby who were just keen to watch a good game of footy and commentated what was left of the game. I nearly lost my shit when Boaky grabbed the ball and ran around in the pocket, trying to bounce one though on a tight angle before ultimately missing. “Daicos!” one of them yelled and then when the kick went astray, the other said loudly, “I would have kicked that.” I couldn’t stop laughing and then they started laughing too.

Anyone who’s talked to me about footy would know that one of my favourite sayings is that the Crows kicked five goals in three minutes to make it into the 1997 grand final. Basically that means if you don’t have a 30 point buffer and there’s three or more minutes to go, then it ain’t in the bag. A couple of friends and my dad told me they thought we had it midway through the last but I can never relax – until that siren goes I stay on edge. Watching Kane, Robbie, Chad and Jay kicked those last ones was an exceptional relief. I’m feeling good about playing West Coast at home next week, who are sitting fifth on the ladder but are 3-2 the same as us, and I know it sounds cheeky but a percentage booster would be much appreciated.

Tonight Port gave a nod to it’s heritage by wearing the white back jumpers. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed them. It was good to see that not only di we look like the Power of old, we got back to playing like them too.

Lest we forget.

It started last year as a very loose sort of plan; my Hawthorn supporting friend and colleague and I saw the 2015 AFL draw and thought it would be great fun to road trip to Adelaide when our sides played. The atmosphere at Adelaide Oval had been so hyped that we were keen to experience it for ourselves and being two people with a very similar outlook on football, I knew the trip would work because we’d get along win, lose or draw. However something slightly unexpected happened – she fell pregnant. Which meant that our planned night of fun and frivolity in the City of Churches was going to stay just that, a plan. It would have to be next year when we could both enjoy it to the fullest.

(Yes, I know pregnant people can travel and watch football. More to the point though they can’t drink 30 schooners of Coopers on match day, which is probably the most important facet of any footy trip.)

To be honest I’d all but forgotten about travelling to Adelaide because it seemed so unlikely. A couple of times I reflected on how good it would have been to be there on ANZAC Day playing last year’s premiers but I never took it any further. Then I went on leave for a couple of weeks and a few days before I returned to work I called up to get my shifts. Nothing out of the ordinary until the voice on the other end of the phone said, “Oh and you’ve got a three day weekend over ANZAC Day as requested.” Huh? And then it dawned on me – I’d actually requested the time off months ago because I’d been worried someone else would ask for it off and I’d miss out. Then our trip had been shelved but I’d never bothered to change my request.

How do you like them apples?

I think I only took an hour or two of consideration before coming down firmly of the opinion that I should go, solo if needs be. This was too delicious a piece of fate for me to sit at home. I checked the Ticketek website and sadly the membership ticket allocation was exhausted, however I could still get a general admin ticket for around $40. I had a Jetstar voucher from a previously cancelled flight and there were plenty of options still available for under $200 return. Accomodation looked easy and again, under $200 for two nights. Bang, bang, bang, done. Adelaide here I come.

I went to the Port Adelaide v North Melbourne game at Etihad in round 3 and after I posted a photo on social media from the game, another Hawks supporting mate left a comment on it saying something along the lines of “See you next week and I’ll be in Adelaide to watch.” Seriously, fate again. This mate and I had a highly memorable night out on the drink in Athens last year while we were travelling so there were definite priors. I let him know I was heading along too and given he was a bit of a fourth wheel with a close-knit trio, he was more than happy to have extra company. We made plans to catch up on Friday night and set about depleting some of the city’s stocks of Coopers.

Both of us were incredibly excited to experience Adelaide Oval because it’s been hugely talked up as the venue with the most sensational atmosphere in the AFL over the past few years. Though I’ve been to Adelaide a few times to watch Port play, I hadn’t been for a few years and I’d never been to the ground to watch the cricket. I wanted to hear that roar and sing Never Tear Us Apart with all my people. I wanted to march over the footbridge and be in the majority for once. I just wanted to see what it was like. The fact it was ANZAC Day and that Port were playing the 2014 premiers just added to that sweet sense of expectation and I was beyond excited.

As someone who comes from the country I have a real appreciation for our smaller cities. I think often those who are born and bred in Sydney or Melbourne tend to poo poo them as being provincial and dull, often without reason. I’ve had a cracking time every time I’ve visited Adelaide and I think it’s an immensely underrated city. On the Friday night as I walked along Wakefield Street, the remnants of the rain glistening on the streets and the light quickly fading from the sky, all I could think was , “I love this city.” There was such anticipation, both for the night ahead with new friends and old and for everything the weekend was going to bring. It was a beautiful feeling.

On game day I woke up early, had a good breakfast to wipe away the memories of the previous night’s drinks and went for a walk through town. I was meeting an old colleague and her husband for lunch (and let’s be honest, more drinks) at a pub in North Adelaide and I had some time to kill. I’m a big believer in signs and as I waited on North Terrace for the tram, the Port Adelaide branded one rolled up. Now there’s a piece of serendipity. I headed down towards Parliament and got off to walk up King William Street watching the majestic Oval rise up out of the damp green lawn on my left. Everyone was in good spirits; young men in suits wearing their grandparents’ war medals, service men and woman fresh from the morning’s march, footy fans getting ready for the game of their lives. The city just felt good. I stopped to snap photos of the Bradman Statue and the Cross of Sacrifice Memorial Garden, then kept walking past St Peter’s Cathedral up to where I was having lunch. My friends walked in and the next few hours were spent in happy reminiscence and discussion of the match ahead. It was a great day already and the game hadn’t even started.

We all headed to the ground together early and they gave me the full match day experience and a tour around Adelaide Oval. We watched the supporters stream over the footbridge from the CBD, had our photo taken by the club photographer for their Facebook page, I bought a footy record from their son, then went inside so I could buy one of the special ‘Never Tear Us Apart’ club scarves that are only available here. It was nearly two hours before game time so I thought it would be easy for me to find a good seat and settle in. I was very nearly wrong – almost all the general admin seats had been taken so luckily I was alone and could slip into the solitary seat left high in the rafters of the very last bay in the Eastern Stand.

What a view though. Adelaide Oval is just gorgeous, a picture postcard of a ground that has been renovated to perfection. The facilities are incredibly modern and easy to access, yet the exterior retains the charm it’s long been known for. I loved it and I reckon it’s the best ground in Australia to watch AFL at (and I’ve been to them all, bar Darwin and Gold Coast). Watching the defence team take on the emergency services team in the warm up I was struck by just how good a surface it looked to play footy on. I couldn’t wait.

Everything about the pre match lived up to my expectations. They had a club great come on to kick a ceremonial first goal and got the crowd going with songs and clips on the big screen. ANZAC Day laid another layer of ceremony on it and it was wonderful to see the teams run through the joint banner together then line up on the field for the Last Post. I was talking through the week to a couple of friends about ANZAC Day and how with five games of football being played on the day this year there had been talk of it becoming commercialised. I don’t necessarily think that’s the case at all and I think both the AFL and NRL have had a big hand in continuing the broader awareness of ANZAC Day, it’s stories and what the sacrifices made 100 years ago mean for us today. That dawn ceremonies and marches continue to be well attended decades on shows the reverence people have for the ANZAC spirit and I don’t think you could understate football’s part in that. During the pre match they showed the names of those who had played for Port Adelaide and Hawthorn as well as serving in our armed forces, while Port’s jumpers had the names of over 100 ex players who served printed on them. I love ANZAC Day, I always feel like it’s the real Australia Day, and to be preparing to watch my football team play in such a huge game was an incredible feeling.

I think the best way to describe the first quarter was shocking. I can’t remember seeing such an amazing quarter of football from Port Adelaide in a long time and to do it against Hawthorn was almost incomprehensible. Goal after goal after goal – we just looked so slick and Hawthorn looked like they’d brought the Box Hill Hawks over. Schultz, Wingard and Monfries couldn’t do a thing wrong and Boak was so tough in the centre clearances. Ryder held his marks and Lobbe’s return lifted the side to new levels. Every repeated mistake we’d made over the past few rounds was wiped away as we continued to kick well and hit targets. Port went into the first quarter break with 50 points already on the board and when I stood to clap the break I was still in shock that this had actually happened. We were down Gray and Wines but somehow we’d manage to lift ourselves, to rise to the enormity of this occasion.

This is what we can do. This is how we win. This is the way we play our game.

This could win us a premiership.

The second quarter brought more of the same and we out-scored Hawthorn yet again. So far there were no marks on my hand of nervousness but I’ve been around long enough to know we hadn’t heard the fat lady sing just yet. My phone was buzzing with messages from mates who couldn’t believe the score and there were posts all over my social media. I mean, Port Adelaide are good – we only the missed the grand final by three points last year – but are we really this good? Are we a 50 point better side than the back to back premiers? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet.

The third quarter wasn’t high scoring and Hawthorn started to get the better of us. Then in the fourth quarter all that free running and dominant attacking by the Power was forgotten as we mentally switched to holding the lead rather than winning the game. The Hawks kept fighting back though and added five goals to their tally while we scored only a solitary point. All the Hawthorn fans around me lifted and I sat, quietly rocking in my seat and muttering “Come on boys, kick me a goal” like a prayer to be heard by the football gods. Nothing feels so long as a fourth quarter when you’re trying to hold the win and it was impossible to tell how long there was left at any given time. So I rocked and muttered and prayed and hope and somehow, just somehow, we did it. Few things have ever sounded sweeter than that final siren, eight points up. I stood and punched the air.

Boak was awarded the Badcoe Medal for the best on ground and while it was a deserved win, I think the biggest difference to the Port team was Lobbe. His work rate in the ruck and his ability to consistently tap to players is one of the cornerstones of our game. The first three weeks where he’s sat out injured highlighted just how much we need him. It was pleasing to play like we did without the star power of Gray and Wines and I think that will hold us in good stead. But if the win showed Port anything, it was that we can match it with any team on any given day. All we need to do is believe in ourselves and back ourselves in.

I stayed for a few rounds of the team song, took a few more photos then filtered out of the Oval with the 50,000 others who’s attended. I’d arranged to meet the Hawks quartet at the Exeter Hotel on Rundle Street and I took my time getting up there, instead soaking up the excitement a home town victory on a day as special as this one brings. These are my people; you just don’t get this feeling in Melbourne. After one beer three of them cried off and it was left to me and my mate to figure out the intricacies of the South Australian glass system (apparently a pint is a schooner and a schooner is a pot/middy) as we ordered “just one more drink”. We talked about footy and work and travel and life. It was 2am before we thought it might be a good idea to head back to our respective hotels and beds and as we parted and I started my walk back through the Rundle Mall I realised what this feeling was: happiness. Here I was in this great city, after watching one of the best home and away wins I’ve ever seen, at the best ground in Australia no less, with friends and many beers drunk. Life, and footy, doesn’t really get any sweeter than that.

On the board.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret. The team I hate most in the AFL is North Melbourne. I hate their ‘Shinboner Spirit’ bullshit, I hate their grubby way of playing, I fucking despise Boomer Harvey. I’ve hated them for many years now and that feeling really shows no sign of abating. Forget Collingwood, Essendon or cross-town rivals Adelaide, the Kangaroos is where it’s at for me closely followed by St Kilda (but that’s a story for another day).

I read somewhere today that no team in the past 20 years has won the grand final after starting the season 0-3 so it appears last night was a handy time for Port Adelaide to grab a victory. We also haven’t beaten North at Etihad in 10 years so to say Port were up against it isn’t unrealistic. To win by eight points isn’t completely comforting but I’ll take it, especially the mini come back at the end.

I went to the game and I will make a couple of initial points. Firstly, I have no clue how to dress for the weather some times. I know the roof was shut but it was still freezing and ballet flats just don’t cut it. That’s a note to self if ever I read one. Secondly, at one stage they flashed up on the screen that it was awesome that just over 8000 North Melbourne fans had shown up to the ground to watch. They must be kidding themselves, that’s a disgrace. Almost that many Power supporters showed up so I can’t see that being a stat to be proud of. Finally, to sit with my people I would have had to upgrade my Victorian membership pass to a ground ticket even though the majority of the stadium was empty. Seriously, you’d get more people at the Yackandandah Show. So there’s a heap of vacant seats everywhere but I had to sit in the nosebleeds because I wasn’t eligible to join with my supporters. I get it but at he same time when games are two-thirds unoccupied then it would be good for the AFL to look at being lenient around this. It’s not all about the hashtag cash.

Anyway.

I think any time you attend the game the nervousness level goes up by 1000 and already this season I’m finding it hard to keep a lid on it. One thing I am terribly sick of is neutral supporters saying how great the Port Adelaide games have been to watch, especially this one and the game where Fremantle beat us. No, they weren’t great. I’m emotionally frazzled and worn down. My hand of nervousness is bruised and ripped to shreds from two hours of digging my nails in. Just once I’d like to have a game where we come out and comfortably beat the other team so I can simply enjoy a game of footy. None of this nerve-wracking stuff thanks fellas. At least this time Port managed to get the win though we definitely weren’t certainties, even right up to the bitter end. A quarter of footy has never felt so long.

I love the way Port Adelaide play – we take risks and we’re exciting but it hasn’t totally come off this season so far. Even during last night’s game I watched us make the same mistakes that have proven costly in our first two matches. We kicked poorly and struggled to hit targets. Our favourite thing at the moment seems to be to kick to a free opposition man or a three-on-one contest which does us no favours and stops our run. I’m all for taking the game on but other teams seem to have figured out how to shut us down and take us on instead. Port doesn’t have the element of surprise any more – other teams know we’re good and head into matches ready to play. I’m also not convinced that the weight of all those expectations isn’t having an impact.

I thought Pittard was spectacular last night and totally deserved his goal. White, Monfries and Broadbent stood up and I also thought Ryder started to show a bit of what he can do. Cornes was rested and that worried me but in Ken we trust and I have to accept the great man’s decisions. Wines’ hand injury will have some kind of impact and we still miss Lobbe. Schultz’s kicking was magic. Overall though, Port look a bit tired already. My brother raised this in the off season that he was unsure about the impact all this high intensity training would have on the team and I hate to say he may be right. We don’t seem to be able to run out games like we did over the past two years and we struggled to man up across the ground in the final half. Port has the toughest draw in the AFL this season – Freo, Sydney, North, Hawks to kick off, all 2014 finalists – but to win the flag you’ve gotta beat the teams. No excuses.

Port take on premiers Hawthorn in Adelaide next week on ANZAC Day and I’m lucky enough to be going. (That will probably raise the nervousness level to 10,000.) While I’m not confident we will notch up a win, anything is possible and I’m super excited to check out Adelaide Oval and be part of the whole pre-match experience. I particularly can’t wait to be with my people and sing Never Tear Us Apart. A mate who supports Hawthorn is also heading over so there’s plans to catch up for 68 schooners of Coopers afterwards – win or lose it’s going to be a cracker. I’ll get my Hawthorn voodoo dolls out this week for sure. Carn the Power!

What My Friends Think About Footy

Just a couple of mates, discussing the football.