Springtime Viewing

As any reader out there who has been patiently checking Big League will tell you, my output post Grand Final has been so low that it has almost reached Mrs. Watson-type levels. So much happened and so much didn’t happen; there was so much joy and so much relief. There was also much beer consumed. I didn’t think words could accurately capture it all, but that’s mostly because I don’t think my brain accurately captured it all. And it is still hard to take everything in and fully appreciate just how dominant a team the Cats of 2007 were.

After watching the Grand Final replay, I was reminded of the Austin Powers scene in which a Dr Evil henchman awaits his death at the hands of a slow moving steam-roller; on the biggest Saturday of the season Port was left standing there screaming as Geelong just kept coming at them. And like the henchman, Port was dead long before they were crushed.

However as I recline in the lengthening Spring sun, watching Phil Jacques slowly relax into his rightful role of Australia’s new opening batsmen, considering Geelong’s complete mastery of the rest of the competition in 2007, one thing stands out: That it came on the back of a most disappointing 2006 season. And this invariably leads to other questions: Did we underachieve in ’06? Overachieve in ’07? Did the rest of league drop off? And, how did Murali get uglier?

However, the gentle pace of this longer version of the game brings with it new wisdom, an insight: In any professional sport it’s rare that you ever get two teams hitting their absolute peak at the exact same time. And even if they do, it’s rarer that those same two teams get to play off in a Grand Final.

When Australia lost the Ashes in England, one of the greatest Test series ever, as much was owed to the home-field advantage, McGrath’s injury and England’s bowlers’ apparent deal with the Devil as them being the two best, and most evenly matched, teams in the world.

Likewise, the fact that the previous two Grand Finals, between Sydney and West Coast, were decided by a point each time was probably due more to their defensive, low-scoring style of game: The 2007 Geelong team would have flogged them both… if they had have played them this season. And that’s the thing. Unlike world cricket, in the AFL one season seems to have very little to do with the next.

The triple premiership Lions, and particularly the 2nd season (I think), are the best team I’ve seen. They could play all styles, in all conditions, had versatility and flexibility, a list of stars and a litany of contributors who could pop up and win a game at any particular moment. And the Lions never had a season as convincing as Geelong’s 2007.

Brisbane never finished on top of the ladder during their 3 premiership run, never finished with percentage as outrageously high as Geelong’s and no-one has ever won two finals matches in the same series by 100+ points. The difference is that the Lions won 3 flags in a row.

By the time they made their fourth Grand Final in 2004 they were like an old punch-drunk boxer who had somehow gotten another title shot on his name alone. And even though they still managed to land a few good punches, as they were staggering around the ring, chasing a young Port Adelaide team, I couldn’t help but feel the same way you do about an old boxer; a mixture of sadness, regret and nostalgia, from when they were at their best. I never felt like Port earned that premiership because they never took on Brisbane at their peak.

And I guess that goes someway to explaining why I can’t quite take in all of Geelong’s premiership glory. I feel like they still need to prove everything all over again yet at the same time I’m fearful that they’ll never hit those amazing heights of 2007 again. Or maybe I just need to see it all again.

Shove over Phil; I’ve got a DVD to watch.