IT WAS Christmas 1914 in the trenches of Belgium where the mechanized slaughter that characterised the brutality of World War I was briefly put aside as a game of football broke out in no man's land. 

On Saturday night at the Dome a bizarre inversion of that poignant and historic moment was played out between the Saints and the Swans. Amid what promised to be a football match a very particular brand of trench warfare gripped the game.

Early on the Saints looked like a team determined not to be bogged down in the grime and muck of a messy stalemate that has become 'The Ugly Ducklings' trademark.

Those first 20 minutes should be the focus of what will be the blueprint for future missions for this club. It was all hard running, focused football. We delighted in the lightning quick delivery to our strong marking forwards. We saw an attack on the ball that frightened the living suitcase out of even the hardest nuts in the opposition. We made the game our domain and we played the Swans on the break like few teams have in years.

We were scary good, on fire, like Jimi Hendrix at Monterey in '67. Yes, that good.

Then the Swans applied “The Roos Snooze” and the whole thing became as exciting as a weekend spent at an Air Supply fan convention. There was even a suggestion that the Swans were performing a re-enactment of Steve McQueen’s finest work in The Great Escape, though I much prefer my tunnelling underneath Stalag 17 than out on the Dome.

We should expect a different scenario this week when we face Carlton on Saturday night. It’s been all vintage Carlton razzamatazz in the off season. Despite the Judd factor last week it was classic Carlton calamity capers in the second half against the Tigers last week. Here’s our chance to prove it’s not only their gun forward who leaks appallingly, but that their flimsy defence leaks goals just as much.

Though we’ve enjoyed serving the Blues huge helpings of misery in recent times we should never satisfy our appetite for destruction. The pain lives on long after the game moves on, and my memory is haunted by a decade of Carlton thrashings. These were miserable afternoons spent at Princes Park or Moorabbin watching the Saints being poleaxed by a bunch of free wheeling bon vivants who partied hard and played harder.

And in case you’ve suppressed the memory here are the numbers. Following the final round demolition of Carlton in 1978 until the end of the ’89 season we played the Blues 21 times for just two wins. The average margin of defeat was 50 points. It’s a stain on our history and it can only be washed away with returning the favour on every occasion possible.

So move over ruck rover, let Jimi take over and let’s give the Blues a mind blowin’ dose of The Ross Lyon Experience…