The Geelong faithful do not need to speak
to explain the miracle that occurred on the hallowed MCG turf
on Easter Monday.
Each moment Gary Ablett caressed the ball,
each moment he made his presence known,
we, the Cats fans loved it.
‘Ablettttt.....’ we murmur in unison,
we Geelong believers.
He rises from behind,
floating,
hanging,
collecting.
It is his Sherrin.
‘Ablettt….’ we screamed.
Tears are shed
Through the MCC Members.
Speechless.
Yaaaabletttt forever.
He has risen.
Moments later he is called again,
creating a moment out of nothing,
floating.
Across the ground now.
He breaks the pack,
spins,
and places the ball on his right boot,
perfectly.
As if in slow motion,
gracefully dancing.
The Sherrin darts,
perfectly through the big sticks.
He is not too old, too slow.
He has class.
The Cats faithful are teary now.
Cheers erupt for each possession,
We roar for him.
We say his name.
The final siren drowns out the noise.
We, the Geelong faithful, rise,
jubilation in our faces.
We didn’t have much to say.
Our Ablett said it all.
Ablett is our miracle,
god-like.