There is always much sympathy to bestow on the loser of a grand final, but those with voyeuristic tendencies must have sympathy to expend. In the aftermath of grand final defeat, no one, it seems, has sympathy for Collingwood, save for those unfortunates who follow the club.
The Magpies polarise society, either hate or love, black or white, no grey area. Black and white, though, are primary colours. When mixed, black and white turn to grey, as Collingwood did in the last quarter of the 2011 grand final.
It was a furious game, a classic. Up until three quarter time it was one of the best grand finals of the modern era, the lead changing ten times as players from both sides dominated the play. At three quarter time Geelong led by eight points but the match was still in the balance. Then, as happens in all grand finals, frailties were exposed. Tiredness, injury and an inability to keep contesting turned the match in Geelong’s favour.
Collingwood cracked, their hearts broken by Geelong’s strength and resilience. Simply, the Cats overwhelmed the Magpies with their intent and the scoreboard silenced Collingwood’s supporters.
The final margin, 38 points, will never do justice to the excitement the contest generated for those first three quarters. Based purely on margin, the grand final, will never be remembered how it should be.
Instead, it’ll be remembered for all the right reasons, Tom Hawkins filling the void left by an injured James Podsiadly, Joel Selwood presenting at each contest, playing with a broken knuckle and still dedicated to getting the football or creating hurt and the blunt, devastating skill of Jimmy Bartel.
At three quarter time, Collingwood had nothing left. A season promising back to back premierships needed more than hype to fulfil the flaky guarantee. Despite being the number one ranked defensive team in the competition, the Magpies were about to leak goals.
Their inability to keep a number of players on the field at a crucial stage of the season, heading into the finals, proved the difference in the last quarter. Heath Shaw, Chris Dawes, Dale Thomas and Nick Maxwell all missed games in the last two months of football through suspension or injury.
There was a distinct lack of consistency in Collingwood’s last month. The club wasn’t able to help each other, there was no side by side, as their song proclaims. Whereas once they dominated clubs with clinical precision, their form was patchy. Kicking big scores and winning became a struggle.
In the final quarter of the grand final, the Cats took advantage. Skill is essential to win games of football, but skill in light, lithe frames is no match for skill in big, heavy bodies. Geelong overpowered the Magpies, pushed them easily off the ball, kicking five goals from 11 forward entries, bang bang bang and the premiership was lost.
Mick Malthouse, now known as the former Collingwood coach, exhibited none of his renowned vim and vigour in the post-game press conference. The last quarter fade out and lost grand final was far too disappointing. Malthouse might’ve been seething, but given it was his last game as coach, getting angry at the media one last time was pointless.
‘I thought it was even money,’ Malthouse said of the match at three quarter time. ‘Anyone’s game as far as I was concerned.’
Coaches are naturally optimistic, especially at three quarter time in a grand final with a narrow margin, just eight points separating the teams. There was nothing to suggest the game was beyond Collingwood’s reach.
Malthouse ignored the fatigue his players felt as he implored five or six men who had underperformed to lift in the final term. Unfortunately, Alan Didak, Dane Swan, Chris Dawes, Sharrod Wellingham and Ben Reid couldn’t lift. Jarryd Blair, who made no impact on the game, was substituted off.
‘Geelong had an even performance across the team,’ Malthouse said. ‘We couldn’t get enough players playing good football.’
At three quarter time, as Malthouse singled out those who had been quiet, he instructed his men to take risks, to forget about letting the team down and play with confidence.
‘You’re better off trying to win the game than save a game,’ Malthouse said afterwards.
Inspiring words, no doubt, but pure hyperbole. Minutes into the last quarter it was clear the Magpies were gone. They allowed their opponents enough room to create free space, something from nothing, a tap on the wing to advantage, a push in the contest, brute strength that led to goals.
Hawkins, who thrived in the open space when Podsiadly went off, dominated Reid and when the move was finally made, Reid off, Tarrant on, it was too late. Reid couldn’t run anymore, the margin was three goals and weakness had been exposed.
‘I feel bitterly disappointed that we led our club down, that we let our supporters down,’ Malthouse said. ‘I feel so much for Chris Tarrant (and) Andrew Krakouer.’
Tarrant and Krakouer contributed 16 possessions, three marks and four tackles in the grand final, poor numbers, though Krakouer did kick three first half goals. What was required, however, was a dominating performance, four or five marks deep in defence by Tarrant or two goals in a five minute burst by Krakouer in the last term.
All season Collingwood had found the will to lift, to run when they couldn’t, to score against momentum. On Saturday, when they needed it most, the Magpies couldn’t find it.
Geelong’s Jimmy Bartel gathered 26 possessions, six marks and kicked three goals, a performance that earned him the Norm Smith Medal by a wide margin. In the depths of the MCG, 40 minutes after the game when 99,537 spectators had vacated the stadium, Bartel was paraded in front of the media by his coach, Chris Scott, and paid tribute to the man who led Geelong to a premiership in his 28th match as coach.
‘He (Scott) rejuvenated the group and gave us a new focus,’ Bartel said, wearing his premiership medallion and the Norm Smith medal in front of the assembled media.
Amazing what change a coach can make. Last season under former coach Mark Thompson Geelong was thrashed in the preliminary final, by Collingwood. A year later they repaid the favour in the worst way imaginable.
‘Scotty came in and made our own defence a big focus,’ Bartel said. ‘And gave us ways to take on other sides and their defence.’
Scott worked miracles with an ageing list, extracting improvement from players like Hawkins and rookies like Trent West and Alan Christiansen. Of the experienced players and veterans he demanded strict adherence to the game plan, more kicks, more risks and less handballs.
Geelong ranked second, behind Collingwood, in 2011 for offence and defence. The numbers were close. Scott improved their direction, the game plan engaged the corridor, and made their play exciting with long, direct kicks into the forward line to one on one contests.
The rookie coach bested the master. Everything went right. Steve Johnson, who kicked a game-high four goals, wrenched his knee in the preliminary final and was close to missing out.
‘We made the final decision around about ten o’clock this morning,’ Scott said after the game. ‘We spoke at length a number of times what it would mean to go into a game injured.’
Johnson didn’t convince his coach he wasn’t injured, he convinced Scott he could play. The coach and player understood the ramifications of taking injuries into grand finals. Johnson came out of the chat selected to play, but several times throughout the game he favoured his left knee, looking sore. It was a ruse. Knowing Johnson, the enigmatic way he plays, he was doing it on purpose, just to give Collingwood false hope.
When Podsiadly went down, the MCG crowd erupted into murmur. As the big forward was put onto a cart and driven off the MCG, Krakouer waited patiently to kick a goal. When his kicked truly, the Magpies led by 16 points.
The balance had swung, madly, due to injury, in favour of Collingwood. But the space Podsiadly left in the forward line was vast, opening up plenty of room, and as the players got tired, Hawkins took advantage of that space.
‘Geelong showed that when a player goes down, others step up,’ Scott said. ‘He (Hawkins) was the difference at the start of the last quarter. He really stood up and took the game away from Collingwood I thought.’
Hawkins did, but he wasn’t the only player who demonstrated to his coach that he had an understanding of football. Scott couldn’t find the words to describe how he was feeling throughout the game. Instead, he paid tribute to the assistant coaches and the players.
‘We wanted to be sending things out to the players but we didn’t need to,’ Scott said. ‘These players have been amazingly well coached for a long period of time.’
Scott, it seems, was appointed as coach of Geelong at the right time. His footballers play for their teammates and win contests for their teammates and win premierships for the club. Individuals are insular in desire, improvement for the club, for those they with, for those about to watch.
‘(It was) simple messages,’ Scott said of what went out from to coaches box to the players during the grand final. ‘Really simple footy, underage stuff, if we win the contests we’ll win the game.’
Simple stuff, basic instructions on how to win a grand final, see ball, get ball, kick ball…
Nothing is that simple. Chris Scott will discover that as the depth is eroded from his playing list by retirements and age in the bodies of his veterans. Three players, Cameron Mooney, Cameron Ling and Darren Milburn have retired. Others are expected to follow, or they’ll get older, less able to lay it all bare in the hunt for back to back premierships.
Chris Scott, as early as next season, will discover just how difficult football can be for a rookie coach, because, premiership aside, he’s still a rookie coach. No one will have to wait to see how good Scott actually is as a coach.
The 2011 premiership was the flag Geelong was desperate for. They had to do it this year, because there won’t be any more chances, not in the short term. Their list is just too damn old to expect otherwise, which is why Collingwood is already favourite for the 2012 premiership, absurd as that may seem.
Malthouse can cry or sigh, shake his head and ponder the injustice of football, how it all went wrong when it all seemed so right. Malthouse though, won’t complain or explain. A week after the grand final, he’s already moved on quickly, out of Collingwood, a former coach, a legend of the game who perhaps should’ve done better but did the best he could.
The disappointment, though, will fester. Men like Malthouse are never satisfied with their legacy until it is too late, but he will always have sympathy for the vanquished, because they were his men that let him down, men who played for him, bled for him, broke bones for him and tore their ligaments, for him and the team.
That will never be forgotten.
In the immediate aftermath of the 2011 grand final, the scant sympathy bestowed on Collingwood by part time football fans degenerated into predictable abuse, I hate Collingwood, I’m glad they lost.
None of those part timers could explain why they hated Collingwood, and none exhibited any rationale for their lack of sympathy for the vanquished.
Me, I was hurting, for Collingwood, because no one else does, unless they’re one of the unfortunates who actually support the Magpies…
I a ‘part-timer’. I don’t recall saying I hate Collingwood in the lead up or after the final, although I did hear it from many as I chipped and clicked at their toenails and the dead, hardened skin of their feet the morning of the big day. I like the rookie – be it a coach or a team. Geelong showed rookie potential – even to the inexperience part-timer like me. There was a wiff of arrogance from Collingwood and Malthouse that perhaps turned most off? But what do I know!
