I gotta say that there is nothing better than footy, and there is nothing better than winning at footy, that shared experience that can never be had shopping with the missus, that quintessential maleness of getting sweaty, singing the song and then reliving the grit, the anguish and the result that can only be spoken about in man terms, in man world, over a frothy sudsy ale in man land, then going home to the missus and telling her all about the man love you shared, but it’s also about being able to celebrate that last bastion of man-dom and that doesn’t happen shopping with the missus.

Alas, I didn’t get to do the man thing this week, and I didn’t get to celebrate the man things this week as we played the reigning A Reserve premier the Old Xaverians and they took that male necessity from me and I am not happy, for we have slipped out of the 4 and into the rut. I am desolate and empty in a man way, and when I got home I copped the missus telling me of the hassle and the sweat and the effort she put in shopping and that she had completed her job and celebrated over a frothy latte and she had her girl moment with other girls as they all celebrated getting through the hordes of other empty souls in shopping land and she felt like a winner. But me… and thanks to the Xaverians, … well I was empty and lost and she lorded it over me, so I need to get my man mojo back and that can only come by winning and it better happen quick, or I will be forced to fend off other shoppers ‘cos the missus celebrated and I’m exacerbated and frustrated and need a win to celebrate my inner man-ness.

The game itself was another struggle – they struggled to slip us, and we struggled to build upon a good start where we hassled, harassed and frustrated them into making mistakes and then they struggled to establish a winning lead through sloppy mistakes, and we hung in there, but it was always going to be a hard task after we had perhaps blown the use of a pretty good breeze going to the Pub end of the ground in the 2nd. Despite that in the last we sent a couple of shivers up their spine as we strung together some pretty coherent use of ball and got it back to 13 behinds in the end, but it was all just too little all too late.

The game was actually played in pretty good conditions and for the 1st time in living memory the ground was not a quagmire, had grass and was relatively firm underfoot, but then again given we have been in a drought for approximately 12 years there was always going to be a chance that at some stage when we played the Blood and Tars we would eventually get a decent surface.

We made a number of changes and perhaps they unsettled us, I cannot say for certain, but it could be argued that any changes can be detrimental to any side as they mean those we have an understanding of have been elevated, sent to Siberia or have been relegated to the injured list, so I will claim it was unsettling. Some good in’s, some unwanted out’s, but that’s the nature of footy, and more so in reserve grade footy, and with 7 changes it was always going to be a big ask for the boys, but they tried, valiantly, albeit fruitlessly, but it was always going to be a tough ask.

Despite that we made a relatively positive start where we were running the ball into the breeze kicking to the gulag like structure at the darkened end of the ground. We started better I thought because after 7 or so minutes there was still no score, as both sides tested, probed and prodded each other out like prize bits of meat. It was a positive sign for the good guys that despite the presence of the usual beefy quotient in the front half of the Xaverian forward line we were matching them well enough, indeed we were enjoying the lions share of the ball and it was frustrating the home team, but it was also annoying the cockroach and his off-sider the Pickle, that De La did not establish a firmer grip on the contest. In summary the divergent game styles of the two teams were established along different lines as we were enjoying plenty of from Greg Hesse, Tim Kovess and Lamb-Chop, some risk taking by Nick Roberts, Jez “bung leg” La Ragy and Pev along with some in and under work by the Tow-ball and Georgie whereas conversely the home team were looking to the taller marking players in the front half to gain ascendancy over us.

Given our start it perhaps augured well for the rest of the game, yet after some encouraging words at the initial break perhaps all concerned mentally relaxed maybe thinking the breeze would assist, maybe thinking that the Xav’s were where wanted them and they kicked away from us, much to the chagrin of the cockroach and it was only through some relatively dreadful kicking for goal by the beefy forwards of Xavs that we were still in the contest. It was said last week we need to concentrate for the whole game, and we lost against the Blues because we were unable to sustain a 4 quarter effort and this week we could not manage it again. Not much has changed in footy, so the plonker on the TV who used to spruik what a big week it has been in footy is just that – a plonker, for the more things change the more they stay the same – we didn’t learn from last week and it happened again – we stopped, they dakked us and we were left more exposed than streakers imperfections, and subsequently we spent a long time catching up. Thank God they kicked at the goals like a spluttering, love-struck and nervous boy popping the question to the local lovely when asking her for a night out – they were spraying stuff everywhere, all effort, but no cigar.

At the break we tried to re-group, and considered our fortune that the home team forwards were not really enjoying a great day in front of the erections, but also we were being assisted by some very solid backline acts led by Pitch, who’s smother and steal form the boot of a Xav midfielder was outstanding and led to a goal for the good guys, Jarvie and Tom Molan, and they were being given some assistance by the Boof head and Bus dropping back into the hole and clogging up the space that the Xavvers wanted. A microcosm of the game was that right on the ¾ time siren on slight angle about 30 out the home team CHF missed when it was probably easier to kick it and kill the game off.

From this we gained a little bit of heart, but given we were a long way back it was always going to be a hard ask, however we stuck to the task, and ran at them and tried to place uncertainty in their minds, and players were to be commended for that, but gee whiz it would have been nice to see it happen in Quarters 2 and 3.

The final margin was only 13 points, but given we kicked one right on the bell, and that it was their inaccuracy that kept us in the contest, it could be said that the final result flattered us. I don’t want to be flattered, I just want to be in man land doing man things with other man type men, and the only way to do that is to be back in the winners circle. Otherwise I have to put up with the missus and her tales of bravery against the mindless hordes who trawl the shopping malls.

Given results in other games over the weekend we are now in 5th, and as such our climb back needs to start now against the Collegians, and given they wear a purple jumper we need to turn into Purple People eaters, see if we can stop the fade outs, so we can then drink our fill and get the man mojo going.