Been There, Done That

Take a breath, Cats fans. A lot has happened since we last spoke. So before we look forward, let’s briefly look back at what Big League has missed.

Aug 27: Geelong loses to Sydney in a classic “nobody believed in us”, coupled with an “overly emotional reason to win” and matched by a “we have no real reason to exert ourselves” game. It is Geelong’s first loss at KP since the corresponding fixture in ’07. (By the way, I’ve never witnessed a stadium/gig/crowd/event with more juice, or electricity in the air, or whatever you or Phil Collins wanna call it, than at that game at KP in ’07 when Ablett kicked what seemed to be the winner. Collective loads blown.)

Sep 2: Geelong asshat Collingwood on a Friday night in a game that is difficult to draw any conclusions from. Technically, neither team had anything to gain (or lose) from the result, as ladder position and their first final opponents were locked in regardless of who won and by how much. Instinctively, one sensed Geelong had more to play for, with Collingwood being unanimously rated as their superior and The Cats coming off the above mentioned uninspiring game. There were a couple of incidents that indicated The Magpies were well and truly back on the bus after halftime. Indeed, it’s probable that Collingwood were looking ahead, and just hoping to get through the match unscathed and begin preparing for West Coast. But mentally, and emotionally, there’s only one side of a 96 point result you want to be on. I know Mick Malthouse was quick to dismiss the result (and really, what choice did he have?) but how confident would you have felt about the Cats last week if they’d lost by 96 points?

(Note: While we’re on the subject of asshatting, after the Cats towel up of Melbourne inspired the Demons to fire their coach, what was their next big move? Bringing in Gary “Seriously-I-don’t-want-to-coach-these-clowns” Lyon in some sort of Winston Wolf role to clean house and possibly dismantle the entire front-office structure. His only qualifications being, it would seem, that he kicked a few goals for the club in the 1990s and now sits on the fence between Craig Hutchinson and Grant “Walnut” Thomas. That club is rooted.)

Sep 9: Geelong shows Hawthorn to be the overrated frontrunners they are, on their way to another preliminary final, their fifth in a row. (And really, regardless of any future outcomes, that fact bears some reflection. Five prelims in a row is an awesome achievement, especially considering that in that same amount of time West Coast have gone from Premiers to bottoming out to a Premiership chance again. And yet, Richmond are still languishing at the bottom. I digress...) The Cats took the Hawks best shots and, as often is their want, essentially killed the contest with four goals in five minutes during the third quarter. They looked more like the Geelong we’ve come to love and respect than at any other time this year. Read that last sentence again. This was good opposition, with everything to play for, on a slippery night, in front of what Brian Taylor would call “the big stage” and The Cats put their foot down when it counted and made everybody wonder why, exactly, they’d been talking up Hawthorn’s chances whilst equally forgetting those of the winningest team in AFL history.

Once again, the September specialists stepped up: Sex fingers was knocking it around at will and drifting forward to stick a few; James Kelly, conspicuous by lack of nickname, continued his best season with another excellent performance; Joel Selwood did his best Chumbawamba impression (sorry about that); Tickets/Mr September Bartel just did what he does at this time of year; and Paul Chapman seemed to have some sort of utensil removed from him just in time for finals. And, encouragingly, there were good contributions from unlikely types (Hatchet and West) while also room for improvement from proven players (Matty Scarlett was particularly quiet).

(Note: Unfortunately Daniel Menzel was injured in the process and will be lost for 10 or so months while his ACL heals. Menzel had made his mark on the forward line as one of those guys with ability in the air and on the ground, and indeed at either end of the ground; perhaps a little Andrew Walker-ish? Either way, I hope he’s not missed too much and that someone, I’m looking at you, Paul Chapman, can provide that forward line spark that, when the Cats have it, makes them irresistible.)

The Cats looked sharp. They looked hungry. They looked unbothered by neither opponent nor occasion. And so they should: They're built for this time of year.