TO BEGIN, I’m going to help myself to the words of Italian director Roberto Benigni: 'Life is Beautiful'.

His 1998 masterpiece about love, hope and joy set against the backdrop of the Holocaust sits next to another 1998 masterpiece – the AFL Grand Final – in my chronologically ordered DVD library.

Both have the power to inspire no matter how many times I dust them off and throw them in the machine. Knowing the ending doesn’t in any way detract from either.

Sunday was beautiful in Melbourne. I slept in, shared breakfast with a friend and then practiced my putting in brilliant sunshine at my local golf club. As I sunk birdie after birdie (I was pretending to be Karrie Webb) I had a strong feeling it was going to be a magnificent day on all fronts.

“This putt to win the U.S Open and an incredible eighth major…and she’s done it! Karrie Webb has taken out her eighth major, six more than Greg Norman ever achieved.” If nothing else, it put my playing partner off.

I came back to earth with a flurry of double bogeys. To take my mind off my capitulation I chatted to Mum on the drive home from Albert Park. True to form she gave me a full blown weather report from Adelaide and a few other bits of information about the game. I could’ve sworn I was having a conversation with Neil Craig. Talk about focused. What is it about the women in my family? No wonder I am the way I am.

Forget Andrew Denton’s interview with Wayne Carey. Showdown XXIV was the most compelling viewing of the week. I’d even go as far as to say it was the most enthralling match of the season so far.

It had everything.

They talk about rivalries in Melbourne but time and time again the hype doesn’t match the contest. In the case of St Kilda versus the Western Bulldogs there’s no rivalry at all. They were just the two clubs left over after the AFL devised its rivalry round.

There was nothing contrived about the match at AAMI Stadium. Right from the opening bounce we knew we were in for something special. It was 'ON'.

And the intensity didn’t let up for four frenetic quarters. Matt Thomas’ tackle on Nathan Bassett and Dean Brogan’s hit on Luke Jericho only added to the feeling on the ground, not to mention the feeling in my lounge room. More than once I pronounced my heart was going to give way to my unsuspecting dinner guest who may never return after watching my performance.

Three men down at half time my thoughts turned to Terry Wallace and his expanded bench of 24. I even thought about ringing Andrew Demetriou myself to see if we could implement it on the spot. Despite the hard hits we continued on manfully, depleted but not defeated. Jason Porplyzia typified the spirit of the Crows. He took a knock to his troublesome shoulder and came back on, as did Jericho - warriors until the end.

Mark Williams told his players at three-quarter time that they were tougher, stronger and faster.

We proved him wrong. Against the odds the Crows prevailed by a straight kick in one of the most memorable Showdowns in history. The ledger is now squared at 12 wins a piece but more importantly than that every Crows player was given a healthy shot of self belief.

It’s not a commodity than can be measured like kicks, marks or handballs but you can never underestimate its worth.

By the time I curled up with a book in bed on Sunday night I was content, and counting my blessings that I actually had a reading light after the recent storms in Melbourne. 20,000 homes were still without power over the weekend.

While in Adelaide, it was courage and not the elements that cut off the power.