Cotchin truly is a modern marvel. Works his arse off to get just outside every contest, demands the ball with the authority of Carey in his prime, runs backwards, sideways, bursts into trouble and then either chips sideways or snaps forward over his shoulder. Every possession carefully calculated with the precision of a chess grandmaster to suck the life out of a Richmond forward thrust... except the ones that actively **** them over with less than a minute to go and the ball safely on the wing.