Last night’s umpiring makes me want to vomit my Pain Au Chocolat
By The Solution
I’ve been accused in the past of banging on about umpires unnecessarily, giving them more attention than they are worth, and generally being a biased, one-eyed fan.
Well my answer to that is twofold:
Firstly, I am a biased, one-eyed fan, and I’ve never pretended to be otherwise. Anybody who has a problem with that can go sit on a goal post.
Secondly, why shouldn’t umpires come under the same scrutiny as every other aspect of the game? Take a look at the Fox Footy coverage as an example. Mensa Society members such as Brereton, David King and Brad Johnson pour over every coaching move, every tactic, every play at both half time and following the game, basically picking apart every aspect of what has unfolded. I don’t watch (it is boring as petrified bat shit) but this sort of analysis occurs for a reason. It is because every play IS significant, each clearance IS a potential turning point, and each missed shot or magnificent goal IS potentially critical to the outcome. Any moment of any game can signal a shift in momentum, which in turn can affect the result.
So recognising this, are we supposed to pretend that umpiring doesn’t matter? Should we pretend that when Walla kicked that goal in the last quarter, and the umpire took it off him and Adelaide subsequently goaled, that it didn’t end our chances? Are we supposed to ignore the fact that, as an undermanned team against the Premiership favourites, that the 3 goals to Adelaide in the first quarter resulting from questionable decisions was just the rub of the green? Should we laugh off the tackle of Daniher’s ankles that was then ruled holding the ball? Everything else?
To highlight the significance of free kicks consider the free kick differential, which was 7 in favour of Adelaide. Imagine if we had a midfielder who had 7 clearances, stopped opposition goals and created goals for us? He’d rightly be named BOG.
Which is what the umpires were for Adelaide. I’m sorry but I will not be be silenced, and I will continue to scream into the Void, even if nobody is listening.
Fresh off his starring role on the revamped (or should that read re-awfuled) Footy Show, Andrew McGrath was outstanding yesterday. Sure, he made one or two errors, but his poise under pressure, his perseverance, and surprisingly his toughness, were on full display last night. McGrath’s performance proved what we already knew – we have a young champion on our hands. Just ask Eddie Betts.
Conor McKenna Isn’t Real
I don’t mean to sound like Alex Jones but we have a conspiracy in our midst, and it is this: Conor McKenna is not real. Nope, he is a robot created by game designers.
The proof? The way he runs is one example. He seems to run in lines, and when he changes direction it’s as if his controller has shifted the joystick. Look closely, you can almost see the little reverse halo on the ground when he has the ball. Even his errors look like somebody has pressed the wrong sequence of buttons, or that the game has momentarily glitched.
He also talks like a character from the Sims – it sounds almost, but not quite, entirely unlike English. Either way, he is a player who is super exciting sprinkled with occasional moments that are super frustrating. It’s going to be fun to watch him develop next year.
For The Love Of Jobe
It didn’t matter in the end and it didn’t win us the game, but in isolation that Jobe Watson goal was a wonderful moment, and one I will never forget. I think it actually surpassed in emotional terms the standing ovation Jobe got at the 4th minute of the 4th quarter, as it was a spontaneous outpouring of emotion from both players and supporters.
And what was that emotion? There is only way to describe it: love. As The Beatles said, in the end the love you take is equal to the love you make. In that special moment, we were just giving Jobe back what he’s given this Club. Jobe, we thank you.