Match Report
Grand Final Match Report - 20/09/2008By Ziggy Arness
Apologies for the lateness of this report, which I would have considered as superfluous had it not been for the supernumerary amount of emails and verbal requests I’ve had for one last serve ( for this season) of my prolix ramblings.
Now that the ramifications of this magnificent effort have sunk in, and the mandatory celebrations and Mad Mondays have been consigned to posterity, it is time to reflect on the achievement and congratulate Quinny on the way he moulded this great group of guys into a Premiership-winning team. Unable to be part of it himself, the brio he instilled in them to go out and aggress right from the opening bounce led to the first ten minutes of the game being as exhilarating a passage of suburban football as I’ve witnessed, and laid the foundations for the rest of the game.
The wind played a major role in the vicissitudes of the match, although not as much as the indefatigable and dedicated efforts of Morgs, Brett Gniel and the Lavars boys, who were without a doubt our four best contributors on a day when there were many others. I would venture to say that most of us felt reasonably confident with a three point deficit at three-quarter time, and the prospect of finishing the task off with the advantage of a serious breeze. We started well, but some of the Heatherton boys weren’t about to let this contest segue into its predictable climax. A couple of sensational goals from Matt Jamieson reduced the margin to 7 points and caused just a frisson of fear amongst some of the faint-hearted Dingley supporters. After a farrago of good, then bad play, it took a game-defining tackle by Dimma on a goalward-bound Trav Sauer to virtually seal our destiny and drive one of our usually laconic members to hyperbole.
The boys celebrated long and hard after the siren, there were plenty of hugs, hand-shakes and tears. No one was happier than my Cat-supporting friend Stewy, who, when faced with Hobson’s choice earlier in the season declared the he would trade another Geelong flag just to see the Dingoes do it this year. And to achieve this with such a high proportion of home-grown players was another reason to feel extremely proud.
So where does this lachrymatory victory against this season’s “Bete Noire” leave us? In a higher division obviously, which has been the downfall of some of our predecessors. I am much too perspicacious to be taken in by the spurious argument that we will suffer the same fate. The side we have is seriously competitive, and I see no prospect of wholesale defections and retirements. Browndog’s knees are a worry, some of the guys might think Father Time is catching up with them, and as fantastic as the young guys have been, there may be a need for an influx of some stronger and more experienced bodies in the short-term to cope with the higher rigours of first division. No doubt the committee and coach (and let’s pray that’s Quinny again) are already using their powers of ratiocination regarding retainment, development and recruiting. An admirable and correct stance has already been espoused by Adam who has not only suggested but declared hope that some of those 16 and 17 year olds get an immediate chance at the next level, despite our selfish desire to keep them. No such problems for the inveterate imbibers of the Hill, who will absorb anything that’s potable or comestible, and continue to be intransigent and obstreperous in their support of this great football club, regardless of on-field results, and with no malfeasance exhibited nor intended. And they will not kvetch if results do not go the way to which we have become accustomed.
I have enjoyed immensely my role of deranged correspondent, and appreciated very much the encouragement and unsolicited support of the many (some surprising) readers from various quarters who liked my pervicacious observations.
My best wishes go to those who are up for awards and trophies on presentation night.
In closing this groundbreaking season, I am reminded of an appropriate story recently related to me by one of my many acquaintances, who remembered having seen an interview with Ted Whitten Jnr some years ago just after the legend passed away. When asked if his illustrious father had tried to influence or help his career, young Ted said the only advice his old man ever gave him was “Son, never miss an end of season footy trip!” So let’s hope that both groups, whether Albury or Bali bound, take that on board and have a fantastic and trouble-free time.
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