Guys, this week`s pretty tough for me but I`ll get it done. please bear with it.....
Blackburn Vs. Croydon
I grew up with Dave. He`s my cousin, a few years my senior. We have a huge family (I have around 60 1st cousins) and gatherings when I was a kid were plentiful and always fun. I remember pissed uncles, stern aunties and Woodstock on the big projector screen, but most of all I remember Dave. He was the young adult of the cousin clan; always authoritive, with a bit of measured adventure - at 3am one night we snuck out the bedroom window armed with torches and a transistor radio for a daring sojourn into the night, threatening the very fabric of suburbia, but returning without criminal charges and with a sense of excitement borne of teenage mischief.
The baton was handed down as Dave, all too soon, got married and headed to Perth; my younger cousins then looked to me for guidance, fun, and a connexion to the adult world. They got it in spades - in fact I think I scared them all at one time or another. I still recall turning up to yet another family gathering at the end of a wild, sleepless, hallucinogen-filled weekend and holding court before a sea of wide-eyed eager faces that reminded me of the way I felt when Dave was around. Their questions flew thick and fast and amazingly, incredibly, maniacally I carried on an 8-way conversation that innocent suburban juveniles had no right to be subjected to - it was, for them I`m sure, both horrifying and hilarious.
But it was all sweetness and bright sunshine on saturday morning as I drifted down to Morton Park. This game was a biggie and I was certainly keyed up. A win for both sides was a must. The Burners still had 20 senior players on the injured list but had discovered new resolve in recent weeks, despite throwing a win away against Noble Park a fortnight ago, and Croydon, last season`s Grand finalists, had finally found some form after a sluggish start to 2010, and needed to win just to stay in finals contention.
The bright day continued for the Red Army as the colts had a crushing win and the reserves, despite having no bench, knocked over their rivals, who topped the ladder. "We`re gonna win this" , Tubby told me, having looked over the warm-up, goggled by 8 beers (his alarm had gone off early) and I felt encouraged for no good reason.
The players took centre stage and the crowd watched, but something told me they weren`t quite into it. I mean it was winter, but the sun still burned down, and the wind was Autumn-flukey, coming in from the east, pirouetting through the north-west corner of Morton Park and exiting in a rush through the southern end of the ground, the end to which the Blues were kicking. Everyone, including the gladiators, were disoriented.
I hated the way the game was played. The best players in the 1st half were the ones placed, cynically, behind the ball, picking up easy possession and driving into their respective forward zones only to be repelled by their counterpoints, who drove it back to them. It conjured memories of their game earlier this year, when only a few goals were scored in the 2nd half.
All was going to plan and the Burners, with the aid of the wind were forging their way back and with 5 minutes remaining in the first half the difference was 12 points. Driven by the need for beer and the call of nature, I took my attention from the contest for a few minutes. Apparently, i was joined by my on-field clubmen and as the siren sounded, Croydon`s lead had stretched to 5 goals.
On the resumption, the urgency from both teams was palpable: Croydon desperate to increase the gap;the panthers hanging on, hoping to fly home with the wind in the last quarter. The sun still shone brightly and at the 3/4 time huddle, Blackburn coach Steve Cochrane urged his team to "take the game on". But everything had to go right, and after a missed tackle here and a dropped mark there, the match was over by the 15 minute mark, and deserving winners Croydon, who wanted it more, had prevailed.
Luke Barker was unchallenged as a power forward with 5 goals, whilst Grant did what he liked for Croydon. Cruttendon was valiant for the Burners, and Tuminello kicked 3 goals drifting forward and was good all day.
The skies quickly darkened in the last term, and worsened throughout, so that I almost didn`t perceive the black countenance of my "old man" as he strode toward me with news that could only be bad - not yet 50, my cousin Dave had a brain tumour that could kill him in two weeks; doctors were hopeful that, if they could successfully clean it up without severely damaging his brain, he could live for up to two years. Surely there`s no justice - it should have been me.
BLACKBURN 3.1 5.6 7.7 12.10-82
CROYDON 3.2 10.3 14.4 17.7-109
Blackburn Vs. Croydon
I grew up with Dave. He`s my cousin, a few years my senior. We have a huge family (I have around 60 1st cousins) and gatherings when I was a kid were plentiful and always fun. I remember pissed uncles, stern aunties and Woodstock on the big projector screen, but most of all I remember Dave. He was the young adult of the cousin clan; always authoritive, with a bit of measured adventure - at 3am one night we snuck out the bedroom window armed with torches and a transistor radio for a daring sojourn into the night, threatening the very fabric of suburbia, but returning without criminal charges and with a sense of excitement borne of teenage mischief.
The baton was handed down as Dave, all too soon, got married and headed to Perth; my younger cousins then looked to me for guidance, fun, and a connexion to the adult world. They got it in spades - in fact I think I scared them all at one time or another. I still recall turning up to yet another family gathering at the end of a wild, sleepless, hallucinogen-filled weekend and holding court before a sea of wide-eyed eager faces that reminded me of the way I felt when Dave was around. Their questions flew thick and fast and amazingly, incredibly, maniacally I carried on an 8-way conversation that innocent suburban juveniles had no right to be subjected to - it was, for them I`m sure, both horrifying and hilarious.
But it was all sweetness and bright sunshine on saturday morning as I drifted down to Morton Park. This game was a biggie and I was certainly keyed up. A win for both sides was a must. The Burners still had 20 senior players on the injured list but had discovered new resolve in recent weeks, despite throwing a win away against Noble Park a fortnight ago, and Croydon, last season`s Grand finalists, had finally found some form after a sluggish start to 2010, and needed to win just to stay in finals contention.
The bright day continued for the Red Army as the colts had a crushing win and the reserves, despite having no bench, knocked over their rivals, who topped the ladder. "We`re gonna win this" , Tubby told me, having looked over the warm-up, goggled by 8 beers (his alarm had gone off early) and I felt encouraged for no good reason.
The players took centre stage and the crowd watched, but something told me they weren`t quite into it. I mean it was winter, but the sun still burned down, and the wind was Autumn-flukey, coming in from the east, pirouetting through the north-west corner of Morton Park and exiting in a rush through the southern end of the ground, the end to which the Blues were kicking. Everyone, including the gladiators, were disoriented.
I hated the way the game was played. The best players in the 1st half were the ones placed, cynically, behind the ball, picking up easy possession and driving into their respective forward zones only to be repelled by their counterpoints, who drove it back to them. It conjured memories of their game earlier this year, when only a few goals were scored in the 2nd half.
All was going to plan and the Burners, with the aid of the wind were forging their way back and with 5 minutes remaining in the first half the difference was 12 points. Driven by the need for beer and the call of nature, I took my attention from the contest for a few minutes. Apparently, i was joined by my on-field clubmen and as the siren sounded, Croydon`s lead had stretched to 5 goals.
On the resumption, the urgency from both teams was palpable: Croydon desperate to increase the gap;the panthers hanging on, hoping to fly home with the wind in the last quarter. The sun still shone brightly and at the 3/4 time huddle, Blackburn coach Steve Cochrane urged his team to "take the game on". But everything had to go right, and after a missed tackle here and a dropped mark there, the match was over by the 15 minute mark, and deserving winners Croydon, who wanted it more, had prevailed.
Luke Barker was unchallenged as a power forward with 5 goals, whilst Grant did what he liked for Croydon. Cruttendon was valiant for the Burners, and Tuminello kicked 3 goals drifting forward and was good all day.
The skies quickly darkened in the last term, and worsened throughout, so that I almost didn`t perceive the black countenance of my "old man" as he strode toward me with news that could only be bad - not yet 50, my cousin Dave had a brain tumour that could kill him in two weeks; doctors were hopeful that, if they could successfully clean it up without severely damaging his brain, he could live for up to two years. Surely there`s no justice - it should have been me.
BLACKBURN 3.1 5.6 7.7 12.10-82
CROYDON 3.2 10.3 14.4 17.7-109
