There is a Biblical story about Moses in the desert, about a moment when all seemed lost, when the only end in sight appeared to be The End, and then, just at the bleakest moment, manna falls from heaven and the fleeing Israelites are saved.

Ignoring all the media hype about the hows/whys/and wherefores/ the truth is we have needed a ruckman or two for some time now, really since Matty Allan’s feet succumbed to the rigors this game can place upon the human body. Now we have two. Both have fallen from the heavens that we call the draft. One, a clever pick, the other the reason for all those hows/whys/and wherefores.

First came The Hammer through astute spotting by Hughes which gave us Hampson, who is tall, fast and another real prospect in the making. And now tumbling into our laps from the blue skies above comes The Kruise! Oh and what a piece of the puzzle to fall our way. If my Dad were alive he’d be dancing jigs after watching the young colossus stride the sacred turf. Dad, coming from the Robert Walls School of footballing philosophy, loved the ruckmen. He loved Perc, who often made him giggle, admired Fitzy who often seemed so undermanned and yet usually came out on top and he even came to love the striding giraffe that was Justin Madden. But of all the ruckmen dad saw, his favourite by the length of several streets, was, of course, Big Nick.

He’d often stare into our young faces, his green eyes bright with the Navy Blue dream, and tell us about Big Nick as a young ruckman. How, from the start, you could see what an absolute ripper the club had found: A jewel for the firmament. Now I understand Dad’s fervour. We have found another diamond for that special heaven reserved for the champions of all things Dark Navy. I know its early days, I know its one game, but oh, what a game! What a beginning. Here’s one I’ll be telling the grandkids about.

Where there was darkness, light shone, where we seemed small and timid, suddenly we exploded. Oh he was not alone, Fev went off like it was the fourth of July – he is our own Guy Fawkes,  is our Fev, a rogue of sorts, and what fireworks he delivers, enough to rock any parliament. Then there was Murph, as always, and Gibbsey, particularly his work in the third. Stevo stuck the media circus up their own collected hot air bags and a certain famous new recruit showed that he is the one and only Judd. From paupers to millionaires in the flicker of a young ruckman’s brave hand - the Bluebaggers exploded!

Suddenly we looked mighty good and I began to dream of the final end to this painful stretch of Greg Chappell outs. We are better than we are showing. But we keep finding the nicks. This time it was just those ends of quarters, the red time. We nick one each time and gave them goals, gave them hope – never, remember this young ‘uns, never give an opponent (particularly one in black and red) a sniff of hope, a faint waft of sunshine, a flimsy thread of possibility – that thread will always lead to your dreams unravelling before your every eyes.

Oh and how we unravelled! Suddenly we’re several goals down and the weeks before became the weeks ahead! Is there no end in sight!

Well no. No there isn’t and yes, yes there is. We may lose some more games yet, we may even shatter this 100 point record for all times, but we are getting the pieces in place. Gibbs, Murph, Hampson and The Kruise, Bowerbird bobbing up in the backline, young, brave Jammo, who reminds me of an Anzac with his spirit, and others. They are all fitting together. We just have to be patient. I know, I’ve said that for so long now you’ve all lost patience with the thought. But hang in there.

Watch The Kruise, watch Murph and Gibbs, heck if it gets real bad, watch the Judd and believe. Hang tough.

It will not be as long as some think before our small explosions become a mighty roar across games, then seasons and even decades! The kids are young but the talent is there, now we must let them gather experience so we can light the Navy Blue flame and watch it burn perhaps brighter than ever before.

So this week we play the pre‘75’s (go on, work that reference out!) and the question is - can we explode again and can we hang on at the end of those quarters? Is the run of outs finally about to break or will losses continue to accumulate?

Funnily enough I think we can win this week, The Pies main claim to fame is that they all work for each other so that the whole is far better than the parts. Our task this week is to break them back down into parts. Make their parts take on our parts and we’ll win.

Fev to go off again – from him this week the big ha’penny banger – 10 goals!
The Kruise for Rising Star
And Judd BOG!

We’ll break them apart in the middle and then watch the splinters move out to ruin their precious ‘team’. Watch the Horror and Frights drop their bundles collectively until we can all but hear them screaming, ‘each man for himself!’

Blues by 3 goals – which after so long will seem like a lot!

Go Blues!