Win or I'll Stab You in the Face With a Soldering Iron (Happy Mother's Day)

This Sunday, when Geelong tackles league leaders West Coast, I’m not going to be watching. I could, but I won’t. It’ll be on the radio, but I won’t be listening. I have access to a big screen, foxtel enabled TV, but it won’t be switched on. I even have a standing invitation to join a certain underperforming Big League contributor in the outer. A warm May afternoon, a couple of cold beers and the company of the great Mrs. Watson; pretty hard to say no to, right?

The fact is I’ll have plenty of opportunities to watch the game Sunday, but I can’t do it. I can’t watch what it is essentially the season, or even era defining game for this team. I just can’t do it.

To beat the undefeated, reigning premiers would win the Cats back lost respect, put them above .500 and instil a massive amount of self-belief. Lose, and they’re the ‘flat-track-bullies’ that Wallsy and everyone else thinks they are. As Christopher Walken would say, “this one’s for all the marbles, boys.”

I know I’m supposed to want to watch it, but this team has made me more nervous than David Hasslehoff’s agent.

I was there last year when the Cats were leading the Eagles by 54 points during the 3rd quarter. And as goal after goal sailed over Matthew Egan’s head in that last quarter I thought to myself, ‘well, that’ll just about do it for the season’. I don’t need that stomach-dropping feeling again.

It’s not the fact that it’s the Eagles again; it’s just that it's happened before. Geelong has a history of falling over in big games. And they need to win this to prove to themselves that they’re good enough.

Last week they beat up on the Tigers about as well as any team can, but Richmond were back on the bus about halfway through the first quarter. I know you can only beat the team they put out there but seriously, Harold from Neighbours would have kicked a couple against Richmond last week.

I still reckon they can win the Cats, hell, I believe that every week. But they have to win this one. They just have to. And I would just prefer to be informed of this after the fact rather than risk having a major coronary in the back row of the Ablett terrace. It’s hard enough getting down from there to take a piss.

And besides, it’s Mother’s Day, so I’ve got a ready made excuse. But I’ll have that TV warmed up for the replay on Monday morning. After all, I wouldn’t want to miss the season defining game.