In one of Chris Judd’s first games, six months out of school and playing at the Gabba, he had his chin split open by Chris Scott. A minute or so later, Scott swigged from a water bottle, handed it to the West Coast rookie, pointed to the blood running down his neck and told him in no uncertain terms to clean himself up.
In the early 2000s, that’s how it went at the Gabba. The Lions were pitiless. And their home ground was a fortress. To English top order batsmen, it’s still known as the Gabbatoir. But in recent times, the ground has held few fears for visiting football sides. The Lions have dished up a bunch of discards, beanpoles and homesick kids. Two premiership heroes turned coaches have been chewed up and spat out.
On Saturday, the Gabba hosts its most significant football game in a decade. A Brisbane side that has lit up an otherwise ho-hum season faces its biggest test. Their coach, a grandfather who never played at the highest level, squares off against Scott, the archetype Lion of yore.
It’s not as though the Lions have come from nowhere. Last year, they were competitive pretty much every week. Typical of young sides, they’d go sleepwalking and blow winnable games. They won one game in three months. The recruitment of Luke Hodge was panned by none other than Danny Frawley, whose ability to go the tonk, only for the completely opposite scenario to play out, is entirely without peer.
This year, they’ve cultivated a crisp, fearless, almost kamikaze style of play that contrasts starkly with the other top four aspirants. From Hodge, to Charlie Cameron, to Mitch Robinson, they’re a peculiar assemblage – a mix of the recycled and the re-invented – cobbled together to form the most exiting side in the competition. But they need the double chance. They need a home final. And they need a big scalp.
Does Geelong represent a big scalp? They’re a baffling side. This year, they’ve spent the better part of the year several games and about 20 percentage points clear on top. They walloped Richmond and West Coast. They’re just about impossible to beat at home. But after a hot start, the winter rot set in. They reverted to the cautious, stodgy and very exploitable ball movement that sends their supporter base spare. Two of the shrewdest coaches in the caper – Alastair Clarkson and Ross Lyon – worked the locks, slowed them down and delivered the blueprint.
The Cats rely on structure and system. But recent finals have been all about chaos, carnage and insane pressure. Year after year, an entire Geelong season has gone the way of the pear in about 20 minutes. Year after year, they’ve been the backdrop to someone else’s far more compelling story – to yet another underperforming club finally getting its act together.
The last time they lost at the Gabba was in 2013. It was one of the most bizarre games ever played. The final quarter was a fiasco. The Cats were 52 points up and blew it. One was inclined to check the betting patterns. Scott was homicidal afterwards. It ended up costing them top spot. Brisbane’s major sponsor tuned it into a TV advertisement.
Scott himself is hard to get a read on. He has the best winning percentage of anyone who has coached more than a hundred games. His opponents rate him the most difficult to coach against. But his recent finals record is dire. He carries on like a pork chop in the box. He can be cryptic, salty and expansive in the space of a few sentences. But after keeping North Melbourne to the lowest score in its history, you sense they’ve finally got their timing right. Their top half dozen players, who looked dog tired and banged up all through July, finally found some pep. They unleashed Quentin Narkle, who’s been buried away in the reserves. This week, the club, and the game, lost one of its favourite sons. There are no Polly Farmers in this Geelong side. But there are some magnificent, generational footballers who are desperate for a flag, desperate to prove that the post-2011 era has not been one big tease.
At the risk of sounding like a drainer, this hasn’t been one of the great footy seasons. Too often it’s been administered, officiated, policed, coached and commentated by people who clearly aren’t at the top of their game. There’s too much footy, too many opinions, too many trifles.
But we’re finally through the winter grind. It will be 27C at the Gabba on Saturday. The following day, the last two premiers square off at the MCG. Richmond has its swagger back. The Eagles are perennially underestimated. The Western Bulldogs and Port Adelaide are capable of anything on their day. All around Australia, there are double chances, finals spots and coaching futures on the line. Things are getting serious. Things are finally getting interesting.