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I can imagine it.
I did it literally this time last year from a party hostel in Prague.
I cant go through that again.
We absolutely must smash the Suns. A draw would do.
Do I really believe?
- Thread starter sosos
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I can imagine it.
I did it literally this time last year from a party hostel in Prague.
I cant go through that again.
We absolutely must smash the Suns. A draw would do.
- Jun 9, 2008
- 10,805
- 8,577
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It's taken a 8 game winning streak and knocking off all the flag favourites for me to forvgive them for 2022.
Right now I'm in the "this time will be different" camp.. but it's not exactly a healthy relationship built on solid foundations.
- Jun 9, 2008
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I think I could stomach a week 2 finals honourable loss interstate where we get absolutely reamed by the umps.
Anything less gonna be tough to swallow.
Anything less gonna be tough to swallow.
- Sep 5, 2013
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Carlton - currently on 50 points and 117%
There are three teams currently sitting outside the 8 that can jump us over the next two weeks should they win both their games and we win neither:
GWS (44pts, 108%), ESS (44pts, 99%), GEE (42pts, 118%).
However
Rnd 23
ESS play GWS, so only one can get the 8 points needed to displace us.
Rnd 24
GEE play WBD (44pts, 109%), so even if Geelong wins, we will still finish the season with more points than the Dogs, even if they win in Rnd 23.
This means that at worst we will finish the regular season in 8th place. And at best, 5th.
So. Its time to #Believe.
We are playing finals in 2023.
(I hope like hell that maths is correct)
Edit: Turns out it is not. Still, facts are not a prerequisite for belief, so I'll stick with my sentiment!
There are three teams currently sitting outside the 8 that can jump us over the next two weeks should they win both their games and we win neither:
GWS (44pts, 108%), ESS (44pts, 99%), GEE (42pts, 118%).
However
Rnd 23
ESS play GWS, so only one can get the 8 points needed to displace us.
Rnd 24
GEE play WBD (44pts, 109%), so even if Geelong wins, we will still finish the season with more points than the Dogs, even if they win in Rnd 23.
This means that at worst we will finish the regular season in 8th place. And at best, 5th.
So. Its time to #Believe.
We are playing finals in 2023.
(I hope like hell that maths is correct)
Edit: Turns out it is not. Still, facts are not a prerequisite for belief, so I'll stick with my sentiment!
Last edited:
Earls Smother
Club Legend
- Oct 4, 2019
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St. Kilda and Sydney can finish ahead of us.
Then 1 of Ess or Gws.
Then 1 of Geel or Dogs.
That is still 1 too many.
- Mar 7, 2016
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Yes that would be the ideal route.
But it is looking more likely to be a Pies v Demons Q1
Don't waste your time with ladder predictors.
We're winning another 6 on the trot. Other results wont mean s**t.
We're winning another 6 on the trot. Other results wont mean s**t.
Dramoth
Premium Platinum
After finally getting the rub of the green with that prick Christian, I believe!
- Sep 5, 2013
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- Dec 22, 2006
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Yes its time to believe, we will see September and should fear no one.. Winning a final should be the minimum from here.
Brisbane at the Gabba is the only game I would not go into confident against. We have the tools, we always did but we now have the pressure, the heat and the hunger which is what had been lacking for so long.
Brisbane at the Gabba is the only game I would not go into confident against. We have the tools, we always did but we now have the pressure, the heat and the hunger which is what had been lacking for so long.
Strutting into the office this morning
Happy to play Saints, Dogs, or Adelaide first week and walk in pretty confident. Not sure if want to play Cats as they are chock full of experience and more than likely have Hawkins, and Blicavs and Guthrie back..
zeggie
You can't kick goals when you're unconscious.
How long after the GF do we wait before Voss gets inducted as a Legend in the AFL HOF?
TimeFor17
Debutant
- Aug 7, 2023
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After how close the crows got on the weekend and Brisbane’s inconsistency - playing at the Gabba doesn’t scare me any more if our boys keep playing their selfless style. I believe we can beat anyone, anywhere.
Dial almost snapped it is heading right so fast...
We can rewrite history and win the flag. We need a bit of luck. Only caveat is a fit weitering and martin, as we have limited depth in those positions
I spent Saturday afternoon building myself into a frenzy after finally going through the ladder predictor the night before. Hitherto, I'd been the stable one amongst our group of tragic Carlton supporters. Hold the course, things will be right. Never as bad, never as good. But not that day. I was a rambling mess. The parallels between this season and last just seemed too great to be a coincidence. I'd convinced myself that the universe was conspiring against us, and I had half a mind to bring a soapbox to the footy and preach to the masses - take heed, lest you be deceived.
Last season we started the season 8 and 2, before capitulating, losing the last 4 and missing finals by 1 point in the final round.
This season, we don't lose any of the first 4. 7 straight wins, and a loss to Melbourne would have likely made it 8 and 2 to end the season. Depending on results, it looked like we'd again miss finals by 1 point - this time in the first round of the season vs the Tigers.
Like last year, we play Melbourne in round 22, with finals in doubt. My mate was showing me the live ladder at every break, and I kept threatening to throw his phone off level 2. The tight margin, the parallels, the importance of the result - memories of 2022 came rushing back, and the stage was set for heartache.
5 minutes into the 4th quarter, euphoria after Charlie kicks true to put the result seemingly beyond doubt. Then the Pickett goal, and doubts come creeping back. My mind back to its paranoid delusions. The free against Cunners (fair in hindsight but lost the few marbles I had left at the time), and the Joel Smith goal. Was my raison d'etre to be tormented as a Carlton supporter?
Holding on frantically in the final 15 minutes. 5 minutes left, the nerves were too much. I looked to my left and right, looking for a way out to the back of the stands, but I was smack bang in the middle of the aisle. I alternated from head-in-hands to watching through my fingertips, convinced it was only a matter of time before the Dees take the lead. The Newman hack kick to the corridor, the turnover, the shot from 50, heart sinking - the mark from Kemp on the goal line. Maybe the narrative would be different.
2 minutes to go, and we're barely holding on. The deliberate out-of-bounds, Petracca marking within range. Play on, shot on goal, and all my fears were confirmed. The deliberation, the score review, and, crucially - the soft call. The same mate who was taunting me with the ladder confidently remarks that it won't be overturned. I'm frantic, how is he so blind to the cruel narrative that's playing out before us? Looking at the replay on the big screen, seeing the gap between the outstretched hand and the ball, it doesn't look touched to me, but surely there's not enough evidence to overturn the call.
Umpire's call. A behind. 40 seconds on the clock, surely we defend it from here. The Acres deliberate, in my mind 30 seconds left. We defend, the Newman kick down the line. 15 seconds left, the Dees are going to win possession, they're going to launch it back inside 50...but then the most unexpected thing happened. The siren sounded, and we'd won.
The crowd erupted around me, absolute euphoria. I collapsed, head in hands and for the first time ever, I cried at my footy. Ugly, uncontrollable sobbing. Friends could not understand why I was crying - it's not even a final. They thought they were tears of happiness, but it was pure catharsis.
I was 11 when we received the sanctions in 2001. I have memories of listening to the 99 Prelim on radio, I vaguely recall wondering what all the commotion was about in 95 as my uncles shouted at the TV during the 95 Grand Final. My Carlton was not the Carlton of the 80s and 90s, but rather the Carlton of the 21st century. The words to the song rung hollow, almost a mockery. When had they not let us down?
It wasn't just another win, it wasn't just another step closer to September. I was watching the club exercising demons that have haunted us for 2 decades. That's the most significant win I'd witnessed in my time watching Carlton. This is a team I no longer need doubt. This is a team that can rise above adversity and win against the odds, against fierce opposition that had it all to play for. We didn't just keep our end up. We went above and beyond.
So back to the question, do I believe? I thought I believed a week ago, but the doubts and self-preservation after two decades of heartache took over. My subconscious wouldn't let me truly believe. Those doubts are gone, washed away with the tears that were shed on Saturday.
To borrow a line from Voss, we're done with looking back. We're no longer the Carlton of the past 2 decades. The club's got a new story to tell, and whatever the rest of the season brings, whatever 2024 brings, I can't wait to see what it is.
Bloody oath I believe.
Last season we started the season 8 and 2, before capitulating, losing the last 4 and missing finals by 1 point in the final round.
This season, we don't lose any of the first 4. 7 straight wins, and a loss to Melbourne would have likely made it 8 and 2 to end the season. Depending on results, it looked like we'd again miss finals by 1 point - this time in the first round of the season vs the Tigers.
Like last year, we play Melbourne in round 22, with finals in doubt. My mate was showing me the live ladder at every break, and I kept threatening to throw his phone off level 2. The tight margin, the parallels, the importance of the result - memories of 2022 came rushing back, and the stage was set for heartache.
5 minutes into the 4th quarter, euphoria after Charlie kicks true to put the result seemingly beyond doubt. Then the Pickett goal, and doubts come creeping back. My mind back to its paranoid delusions. The free against Cunners (fair in hindsight but lost the few marbles I had left at the time), and the Joel Smith goal. Was my raison d'etre to be tormented as a Carlton supporter?
Holding on frantically in the final 15 minutes. 5 minutes left, the nerves were too much. I looked to my left and right, looking for a way out to the back of the stands, but I was smack bang in the middle of the aisle. I alternated from head-in-hands to watching through my fingertips, convinced it was only a matter of time before the Dees take the lead. The Newman hack kick to the corridor, the turnover, the shot from 50, heart sinking - the mark from Kemp on the goal line. Maybe the narrative would be different.
2 minutes to go, and we're barely holding on. The deliberate out-of-bounds, Petracca marking within range. Play on, shot on goal, and all my fears were confirmed. The deliberation, the score review, and, crucially - the soft call. The same mate who was taunting me with the ladder confidently remarks that it won't be overturned. I'm frantic, how is he so blind to the cruel narrative that's playing out before us? Looking at the replay on the big screen, seeing the gap between the outstretched hand and the ball, it doesn't look touched to me, but surely there's not enough evidence to overturn the call.
Umpire's call. A behind. 40 seconds on the clock, surely we defend it from here. The Acres deliberate, in my mind 30 seconds left. We defend, the Newman kick down the line. 15 seconds left, the Dees are going to win possession, they're going to launch it back inside 50...but then the most unexpected thing happened. The siren sounded, and we'd won.
The crowd erupted around me, absolute euphoria. I collapsed, head in hands and for the first time ever, I cried at my footy. Ugly, uncontrollable sobbing. Friends could not understand why I was crying - it's not even a final. They thought they were tears of happiness, but it was pure catharsis.
I was 11 when we received the sanctions in 2001. I have memories of listening to the 99 Prelim on radio, I vaguely recall wondering what all the commotion was about in 95 as my uncles shouted at the TV during the 95 Grand Final. My Carlton was not the Carlton of the 80s and 90s, but rather the Carlton of the 21st century. The words to the song rung hollow, almost a mockery. When had they not let us down?
It wasn't just another win, it wasn't just another step closer to September. I was watching the club exercising demons that have haunted us for 2 decades. That's the most significant win I'd witnessed in my time watching Carlton. This is a team I no longer need doubt. This is a team that can rise above adversity and win against the odds, against fierce opposition that had it all to play for. We didn't just keep our end up. We went above and beyond.
So back to the question, do I believe? I thought I believed a week ago, but the doubts and self-preservation after two decades of heartache took over. My subconscious wouldn't let me truly believe. Those doubts are gone, washed away with the tears that were shed on Saturday.
To borrow a line from Voss, we're done with looking back. We're no longer the Carlton of the past 2 decades. The club's got a new story to tell, and whatever the rest of the season brings, whatever 2024 brings, I can't wait to see what it is.
Bloody oath I believe.
- Oct 3, 2015
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I live in Brisbane. Over the past two months, I have been to the Gabba to watch the Suns, Geelong, and Crows games. Without Ashcroft, they are getting beaten up around the ball. And they don’t seem to be able to put in a four quarter effort.
I am trying not to get ahead of myself re finals. But I wouldn’t see Brisbane at the Gabba as a massive problem for us to overcome.
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