The Brownlow Diary (plus some other thoughts...)

7:00pm Live from the Crown Palladium, it’s the 2008 Brownlow medal count! Proudly brought to you by Safe Tan – The Safest Choice in Tanning! And Clairol Nice ‘n Easy hair dye! Joining me on the couch this evening is special guest commentator and former Big Leaguer, Mrs Watson!

7:04 Tonight’s coverage begins with a red-carpet special and we are treated to Luke Darcy with his overactive eyebrows and a 7-month pregnant Christi Malthouse. Plus, according to Mrs W, the arrival interview man, Mark Howard, was once on Totally Wild. Good times!

7:06 Mrs Watson: “This is why skanks go out every weekend – to pick up an AFL player so they can go to Brownlow.” Damn, I wish W was there instead of Darcy.

7:07 Tonight Jason Gram is accompanied by a pair of breasts in shoes.

7:11 When did Matthew Lloyd’s wife transform into Effie?

7:15 Brent Harvey arrives and admits to “having a couple of beers already” which immediately makes me like him a little more, raising him from ‘annoying, diving, little, hang-out phoney’ to ‘annoying, diving, little, hang-out phoney who doesn’t mind a beer.’

7:16 This seems like a good time to point out that we’re also joined by Big League Little League’s red carpet specialists, The Lady Captain and Mrs Mrs Watson! Here’s a random exchange:

Mrs Mrs W: I hate the ass crack dresses, that is height of skankiness.
Lady Captain: Yeah, and there’s lots of orange girls; they look like charcoal chickens.
Mrs Mrs W: I know, imagine their sheets in the morning.
Lady Captain: Who’s that? Tom Harley’s wife? She looks nice.
Mrs Mrs W: At least she’s got some class.

7:22 Brendan Fevola arrives, sans dildo, with his wife looking at him with the “just give me another quote for the divorce lawyer” look. Poor Fev.

7:25 Standard Judd & Twiggy sighting. (Lady Captain: “She knows what works well for her”)

7:26 Paul Medhurst is wearing some kind of velvet suit and claims “they said it would look good.” Mrs Mrs W counters with “Wanker.”

7:29 And here is Gaz! The girls seem impressed with partner Lauren’s tan:
“That’s a professional tanner”
“She’s slowly layered that”

7:30 For some reason there is an hour of Australian idol between the red carpet special and the actual medal count. Well, while we’re here, I think we’ve hit the shallow end of Australia’s pissweak talent pool. Although, as Mrs Watson remarks, “Brooke’s saucy!”

8:30 The telecast kicks off with a montage of the medal favourites and “deep-voice over man”. I love deep-voice over man! He could get me fired up for a colonoscopy!

8:34 Speaking of colonoscopy’s, ladies and gentleman, Ms Kate Cebrano!

8:37 Mrs Mrs Watson: “Someone throw a Crownie at her…”

8:39 Stephen Quartermain will be taking us thru the evening. I forgot it was on Channel 10, and was kinda looking forward to the excitable Bruce MacAveney (“You must reaaaaally nervous, Gary, you’ve had a ripper of a year!”)

8:42 Andrew Demetriou, looks like a man you shouldn’t cross. I mean, on TV, with those glasses and that “Keep laughing, I’m fucking serious” half smile of his, he looks pretty intimidating, but I once saw him at Kardinia Park and in the flesh he looks like a cross between Tony Soprano and Roy Orbison.

8:45 Round 1: Fat Tony Demetriou is off to a flying start, reading the round 2 votes first. Quarters trys to save the moment by barking instructions ridiculously quickly at Demetriou who looks like he’s going to fire someone during the first ad break, and then give Pauly Walnuts Quartermain's address. This shit wouldn’t have happened if Bruce was here.

8:56 Round 4: Highlights of Geelong beating up St Kilda: Ah, good times. Plenty of favourites getting votes early, this could be very interesting…

8:57 Oh, I guess I should get a tip in before it gets too late: I’ll go with Gaz Junior to defy history and win despite missing, what, 4 games? He has to get at least 5-6 best on ground’s, right? That’s 18 votes already. Hmm. Joel Corey has started strong, as has Simon Black, my smokey selection from last year. For this year’s smokey I’ll go with The Pav. Now that is a smokey.

9:02 They show a clip of Gary Junior at 14 years old. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. Got any footage of him crapping the bed, Channel 10?

9:07 Round 6: Paul Medhurst has 8 more votes than Jimmy Bartel. Read that sentence again.

9:15 You know, I forgot all about David Neitz. Not just that he played and retired this year, I actually forgot that he existed.

9:22 Round 8: Is Gaz already too far down? Mrs Watson thinks so.

9:29 I think I fell asleep during Luke Darcy’s speech about a property steward and when I woke up and 80-year old woman was accepting the Brownlow.

9:43 Round 11: Gaz is starting make his move as we see footage of Mark Harvey telling the media that his 1-10 Dockers are a “dangerous team”. Shit, Simon Black just got 3 more votes. I should have stayed with him as my rough chance. On a side note, the Brisbane table looks like a fun table to sit at, I don’t why, it just does.

9:53 Round 13: Remember Lips eating a sandwich in the coach’s box? That’s I feel right now. I’m running out of steam. I am this close to googling “sideboob”.

10:05 Michael Voss is giving one the most incoherent speeches I’ve ever heard, I mean, this is rivalling some of the great drunken 21st ramblings.

10:06 I clicked “search”.

10:13 A Robert Harvey tribute followed by a saxophone solo? I’m just searching for weird photos now. You ever see the one with the guy in the crowd at a baseball game copping a bat in the face? Classic.

10:21 Why can’t Quartermain pronounce “Danielle”? He introduced Robert Harvey’s wife as “Daniel Harvey”.

10:26 Mrs Watson: “Go Richo!” I think he’s delirious due to a combination of sleep deprivation, Voss’ rant and hypnotic saxophone music.

10: 27 Mrs Watson: “Go Salopek!”

10: 40 Round 19: Looks like Gaz is gone, lost too many votes to Selwood and Corey. Not too many for Jimmy though. Oh, and if I’m running out of gags, give me a break. I’ve been watching Channel 10 for almost 4 straight hours. I’ve seen that “L’oreal for men” ad so many times I’m actually considering spending $140 on moisturiser. Geez, this thing is longer than The Dark Knight.

10:47 Jesus, Stephen Milne looks like the Elephant man!

10:48 Round 20(?) (I stopped paying attention):Gazza and Mrs W look gutted until Tony Demetriou pulls his patented pause move: Geelong… (counts to three in his head) G Ablett, 3 votes! Gaz is all smiles again and Mrs W woke up! He’s still in it! He wants it!

10:51 I love how Demetriou speeds through the irrelevant games. I feel comfortable with him in charge of the game. I completely trust him on the Gold Coast and West Sydney now.

10:53 Round 21: Richo is mugging for the camera, Cooney takes the lead and Gaz has a chance! I love it!

10:55 Round 22: Noooooo! Gazza’s gone! Looked like he wanted it pretty badly, too. Hopefully he takes it out on Hawthorn. Brad Sewell ain’t shit! I’m with you now, Mrs Watson, c’mon Richo!
10:57 No Votes for the ‘Cho-man! Cooney wins and unfortunately he seems quite sober. He now joins that elite club of glorious Bulldog Brownlow winners, the best of the best, a veritable who’s who of the AFL’s best and brightest, I mean, just look at some of these names… Scott Wynd… Tony Liberatore… Brad Hardie... ? Really? We sure Danny Delre didn’t get one too? Sheesh!

Midnight: Time to turn our attention elsewhere. One more to go. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to produce between here and the GF, what, with the sweaty hands, heart palpitations and binge drinking, so let me just add a few thoughts to leave you with. Please add your GF remarks/predictions to the comments and thanks to all (especially the the regulars) who have contributed throughout the season.

1) Who’s getting dropped for Chappy? I’m going with Stokes, which won’t be popular, but he’s the odd one out and here’s why: I’ve got inside mail that Lonergan is a certain starter. Lips will want Wojack’s line/game breaking ability. James Kelly delivers the ball well to the forward line (and will be used. More on this below). As already mentioned Rooke’s hardness will be wanted and Chapman brings everything to the table that Stokes does and more. This is only if he is actually fit, however.

2) The tougher Prelim for us is a better warm-up for a GF. Recent history also backs up this theory.

3) Hawthorn look to have a couple if injury issues that are a bit more serious that they’re letting on. Expect more to be revealed after the GF and expect Rooke to start on Hodge. (James Kelly will switch on to him and be used as often as possible going forward, which is a good thing for us.)
4) Joel Selwood did very well at the Brownlow, and at $15, is my Norm Smith pick. Get onboard.

5) I honestly think The Cats have got these blokes covered. Yes, their forwards are tres’ dangerous, but I reckon our midfield will give us enough ball, and thus deny them, to kick a winning score (and someone, please get Mooney and early kick). Cats to blow it out late after a tight battle, Geelong by 38 points. GO CATS!

They Are Who We Think They Are, or, Fisticuffs

It’s a very good time to be a Cats fan, but when you look at where we’ve come from, it’s amazing how quickly expectations have changed.

Geelong has gone from an underachieving, frustrating, head-case of a team (let’s be honest, here) to an all-conquering, clinical, ‘ice-water in the veins’ killer. And, as fans, you’d think that would take some getting used to, but its amazing how little adjustment has been required. There’s been next to nothing.

It’s like that 7 you’re dating who sends you 25 text messages a day and then cries after sex, all of sudden transforming into a swimsuit model, who brings home beer for no reason and then says things like, ‘do you mind if one of my model friends joins us in bed tonight?’ And you’re on the couch going, ‘Huh… It must Tuesday.’

We expect victory every time out, these days. And most of the time we expect a big victory. In fact, we expect such big victories that Mrs Watson and I use the word “fisting” on a near daily basis and neither of our girlfriends so much as blink.

But at this time of year I always get that feeling in the pit of my stomach, where your heart is going a million miles an hour and you start sweating and you can’t breath properly and you don’t know if you’re gonna scream or shit or pass out or head-butt the next person you see ‘cos Nick fucking Davis just kicked 3 goals in about 18 seconds and…

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Sorry, that was my head mashing the keyboard; I blacked out there for a second. Where was I?

Another preliminary final for The Cats and another would be contender stirring the pot. And you know what? I don’t blame them. The Cats are the favourites and all the pressure is on them, and if I was the Bulldogs I would be playing as many mind games as possible. I’d try them all. Because they’re going to need every little inch they can. And still it won’t be enough.

The Bulldogs were not nearly as impressive as everyone seems to think they were. Sydney is a beaten-up shadow of their former selves. Adam Goodes was so limited by injury, for a second there, I thought Dean Rioli was resting in the Swans forward line, Ryan O’Keefe had borrowed Brad Ottens’ groin circa 1996 and Tadhg Kenelly’s shoulder popped out high-fiving Craig Bolton. I mean, Robert Murphy’s opponent was Paul Bevan for Christ’s sake. And Crouch, Bolton, Buchanan and Moore sound like they should be doing your tax return, not fighting for centre clearances. Let’s see how the Bulldogs fare against four or five All-Australian’s at that first centre bounce.

The reason the change to supporting a dominating Cats team has required so little adjustment is because they are the real deal. This isn’t a team on a streaky run. This isn’t a team that’s happy with itself for having an improving list. This is isn’t a team that has overachieved. This is the reigning premier. This is the heavy-weight champ. When challenged, they respond, time and time again.

I don’t know about you, but my heart rate is slowing, my gut is settling down and the in-built response to cold-cock anyone called Nick has temporarily subsided. The Cats are the best team in the league, by a fair bit, and I get the feeling they welcome challengers who talk the talk, because, just like a reigning heavy-weight champ, they often let their fists do the talking.

Double Chance? Double the Fist

First it was North Melbourne, and then Adelaide and now finally it’s St. Kilda who has pulled a Bradbury and skated into fourth, otherwise known as the “double-fisting” position. So be it. To paraphrase Steven King (the author), “Bring out your dead!” And to quote Mrs Watson, “they will make an excellent ass-hat.” More on that later, but first a quick look at the other finals and some other happenings…

Sydney vs North Melbourne
I reckon North gave the game away against Port Adelaide to deliberately avoid Geelong in the first final, their reasoning being that ‘Hey, we’re not going to beat them, let’s get on the other side of the draw and take our chances’. And good on ‘em, I hope they make the Grand Final. That way I’ll be able to start work on the back-to-back premiership blog right after Brownlow night. Idiots. So, an experienced but banged up Sydney team with home field advantage and an always competitive game plan against a well balanced North team who were being called ‘the form side of the competition’ only 2 weeks ago: Sydney trying to keep it to an ugly, scrappy game and North trying to open it up and bomb it in to their tall, goofy-looking forward line. A tip? Fark me, North by two goals and Mrs Watson to call it “the most atrocious finals game I’ve ever seen”.

Terry Terrific
It looks like Richmond might finally be waking up to Terry Wallace with the club President calling the Tigers year a “5/10”. Terry responded, and this is true, by saying, “that’s a bit harsh. I’d give it a 6.5”. Ridiculous. They need to fire him ASAP. Year 4 of his 5 year plan has finished with the club in exactly the same spot it was when he took over; ninth. Now, I’m pretty sure that when Terry spelled out his 5 year plan 4 years ago, that the end goal of that plan was not to finish ninth, not to scrap into the finals, not even to make a Grand Final but to actually win a premiership, which he is nowhere near. This club will continue to go nowhere until… Wait, what am I doing? Keep up the good work Richmond! Sign Terry to an extension immediately! And sign Richo up again while you’re at it. And do you still have Kent Kingsley’s number? No? Oh well, what number will Shannon Byrnes be wearing for you guys next year?

Adelaide vs Collingwood
It’s probably the worst case scenario for Collingwood to travel to Adelaide; another win throughout the year and they would have played at home, or in Sydney, where they recently smashed the Swans. But tough fucking titties, Pies. I’m sick of hearing or reading about this club and their celebration of the mediocre. Mick Malthouse is getting crazier at the same rate his daughter is getting fatter. So they go to Adelaide. And they lose. And we laugh.

Hawthorn vs Western Bulldogs
Is it just me or did the Dogs lose interest in football after Geelong belted them? I hope these two teams belt the crap out each other. Actually, I’m hoping for a body count somewhere in the range of the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan.

Geelong vs St. Kilda
Seeing as though the Cats haven’t played St. Kilda since Round 4 there is a little bit of the unknown about them. So let me refresh your memories. They’re shit. Last time these two teams met the Cats had a pretty flat first quarter before pulling the usual “foot-to-the-floor” second quarter and had the cue securely back in the rack by the third. The final margin of 42 points could easily have been 65+. And while this time around we’ve welcomed back Brad Ottens and are trying to find room for Rooke, Mackie, Wojack and Jimmy Kelly, check out the *ahem* depth of the other “best young list” in the league, and these are all players who made their best 22 last week mind you: Gwilt, Hudghton, Gilbert, King, Birss, Blake, Jones, Scheinder, Gardiner, Eddy and Raph Clarke. Add into the equation the Cats improved form, the wide open spaces of the MCG and the fact that St. Kilda is coming off what was essentially a VFL game and it all spells T-H-U-M-P-I-N-G.

So fuck St. Kilda. Fuck the up-coming 17 Robert Walls articles during the week pumping up their chances and fuck anyone else who thinks they’re getting close to this Geelong team. It’s time to get our hands dirty. Mrs Watson, hand me my elbow length gloves...