Given the sort of day it is, I’m not all that unhappy that the Hawks are playing interstate. I’m more than happy to take the padded chairs of the local pub over braving the wet and windy elements. The scene involves me and my neutral mate, and a stack of long-time Hawks fans over at the bar. And it’s not pretty early on. Nine minutes in, four goals down.
Never mind, that’s just the first out of the way.
Never mind, we always start slowly.
Never mind, Buddy hasn’t touched it yet.
Never mind, early days.
I think that that is what separates the Hawks of this year to the Hawks that we’ve had to put up with in the rebuilding stages – even being blown out of the water early on, I still know we are in the contest. Every time we find ourselves four or five goals down, we can get back to a threatening position. No matter how many goals the Power laid on us in the first quarter, it still felt like we should ‘never mind.’
That said, four minutes into the second quarter, Port are up by 38. Guerra is off for the game and who knows what happened to Sammy Mitchell. Mr Neutral calls the game for Port.
Never mind, the positive signs are there: several times we’ve gone straight into the forward 50 with only one kick from a clever ruck tap. Cyril Rioli is giving us a tackling tutorial. And Lance finally, finally looks convincing with every shot at goal. But turnovers, especially in the defensive half, are springing up everywhere and we’re gifting Port goal after goal. If we stop that, we’re a chance.
Michael Osborne rides a ruck contest beautifully and goals midway through the third, and it’s nine points. Interest in the game is resurrected and the noise level from the bar rises. It seemed a bit implausible a few minutes ago, but the Hawks could be up at the last break.
Goal Young.
Goal Franklin.
Incredible mark and goal Roughead.
Not only are we up, but with some room! Lance already has six. There’s a buzz running through the pub and the energy we generate fogs up the windows. There is, of course, a fear of a collapse – that the boys will be so drained from having come back that hard that they’ll be overrun in the last – but no one dares mention it.
The Hawks get the first of the last quarter to much celebration. One more and we can relax. Alas, the infamous face of Brett Ebert pops up with a goal and the collective memory bank recalls the Tassie game last year with much dread. You can hear the hearts dropping.
But… never mind! Chance Bateman puts it inside 50 yet again, and Lewis finds Williams. Mr Neutral calls the game for the Hawks. It was a classic fightback and one that will give us hope next time we find ourselves in some trouble. Full credit to all the boys, what a treat to watch.
Simon Morawetz - From the Outer
The views in this article are those of the author and not necessarily the views of the Hawthorn Football Club.
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