By Lynda Carroll
Every so often, you have those moments that redefine life as you know it, tip your world on its axis, and leave you a bit lost and confused.
Then you have those moments when the phone starts buzzing with exclamation marks and emojis in red and blue, and you know then that being lost isn’t always a bad thing. Confused? Well, more redefined than bamboozled, I guess.
Saturday – Grand Final Day – was a nervous wait for most Melbourne supporters. Tom McDonald has said it very well since then. He was seemingly cool, calm and collected as he kicked a goal after the siren to give Melbourne its 74-point win; the greatest ever margin for the team in a Grand Final, surpassing 73 points in 1956.
But he had had disturbed sleep the night before, and the way in which he described it was most apt: ‘like when you’re a little kid, waiting for Christmas Day.’
Now, all our Christmases have come at once, wrapped in a Melbourne scarf, just like those beloved statues of Stynes, Smith and Barassi in Yarra Park. They were the sentinels of Grand Final Day, with Barassi communicating some of his legendary ferocity, stare and all. ‘Keep Your Cool. Give ‘Em Hell’. His was a catchcry that stuck, all through that long Saturday. Those who were close enough went to Yarra Park, on a pilgrimage that left the rest of us wishing we could be there, too. Even though the game was being played 3000 km away, surely the strains of the club song, being sung by nervously eager supporters, would transmit to those in the west?
Supporters – supporters were everywhere. Past players were perhaps the most eager of all, from David Neitz and his tiny daughters to Garry Lyon, waiting and hoping to be the one to hand over the premiership cup to his team. Meanwhile, Hassa Mann and Bryan Kenneally were hoping to be the ones to hand over the mantle of ‘last Melbourne premiership’ to the players of 2021, with love from 1964. Kenneally was beaming, interviewed in the MCG stands, while Brad Green also made his way onto the flourishing arena – it’ll be beautiful for the Ashes! – his presence a wistful reminder of what could be, what wasn’t, and what might be.
But in the end, it was not something for which you could be prepared. Deep breath – look at the banner. ‘One Team, One Dream’. How apt. Like the Western Bulldogs, Melbourne had a team and a dream that spanned a continent. What a season, what a Grand Final. Filled with fireworks and music, held in the warmth of a Perth night, the game was there to be won. Melbourne past player Darren Kowal was there with his family, ‘ready to cheer loud for all who can’t attend.’
We loved it. From Petracca’s first goal, to the comeback from 19 points down; from Fritsch’s 6.2 to Jack Viney playing his 150th in style. We loved the crowd cheering for us as well, over there in a foreign place. When Johanissen kicked the first goal of the second half, a Bulldogs’ supporter waved his guernsey joyously. Sitting behind him, however, a Melbourne supporter shook his head defiantly. We loved every spark of humour, every note of excitement, every scream of ‘GO DEES!!!’
The game itself was a fast moving procession of improbability. We know the stats. When your team is three goals down in a Grand Final, victory is unlikely, if not impossible. But – in this time especially – most things can happen, and sometimes do actually come true. From Jackson taking over from Gawn in the centre, to seven goals in fifteen minutes during that epic third quarter; from Petracca’s unlikely goal, to sixteen goals of the last seventeen; everywhere, it was Melbourne.
Records were being established by this team as fast as they piled on the goals. Petracca became the first player ever to have 40 possessions in a Grand Final, highlighting his Norm Smith Medal win. Viney – Jack and Todd – were the first father-son Demons to have played 150 games each; and what a wonderful time for Jack to make that milestone. Fritsch was the first player to kick six goals in a Grand Final since Darren Jarman in 1997.
Then, with his goal after the siren, teammates already celebrating around him, McDonald delivered Christmas to everyone in red and blue. A record margin – the most since that grand old team of 1956 – was a beautifully emphatic way in which to mark the club’s thirteenth premiership. Coach Simon Goodwin – whose mantra of ‘Let’s Be Us’ had borne the ultimate fruit with a flag – was shedding tears, as were all the coaches, support staff and players around him, hugging, shouting and rejoicing. The pent up emotions of 57 years were let go, from Optus Stadium to every Melbourne supporter, everywhere.
It was almost too much to comprehend. But, in the aftermath of presentations and celebrations, two moments have stuck. The little girl who handed Petracca his premiership medal squeaked in joy: ‘You finally did it!’ Yes, they did. Finally. Then, Max Gawn, happiness personified, remembered the past with a roll call of the lost and not forgotten, as much the heart and soul of this triumph as anyone. Stynes, Bailey, Broadbridge, Flower…part of the spirit, part of the story always. ‘It’s coming home!’, Gawn yelled in triumph.
Indeed it is. And we can’t wait to see it, back home, back to the MCG, and happy, just like us. Thank you, Melbourne, for 2021 and always.
Cover image: Quinn Rooney/Getty Images
Every so often, you have those moments that redefine life as you know it, tip your world on its axis, and leave you a bit lost and confused.
Then you have those moments when the phone starts buzzing with exclamation marks and emojis in red and blue, and you know then that being lost isn’t always a bad thing. Confused? Well, more redefined than bamboozled, I guess.
Saturday – Grand Final Day – was a nervous wait for most Melbourne supporters. Tom McDonald has said it very well since then. He was seemingly cool, calm and collected as he kicked a goal after the siren to give Melbourne its 74-point win; the greatest ever margin for the team in a Grand Final, surpassing 73 points in 1956.
But he had had disturbed sleep the night before, and the way in which he described it was most apt: ‘like when you’re a little kid, waiting for Christmas Day.’
Now, all our Christmases have come at once, wrapped in a Melbourne scarf, just like those beloved statues of Stynes, Smith and Barassi in Yarra Park. They were the sentinels of Grand Final Day, with Barassi communicating some of his legendary ferocity, stare and all. ‘Keep Your Cool. Give ‘Em Hell’. His was a catchcry that stuck, all through that long Saturday. Those who were close enough went to Yarra Park, on a pilgrimage that left the rest of us wishing we could be there, too. Even though the game was being played 3000 km away, surely the strains of the club song, being sung by nervously eager supporters, would transmit to those in the west?
Supporters – supporters were everywhere. Past players were perhaps the most eager of all, from David Neitz and his tiny daughters to Garry Lyon, waiting and hoping to be the one to hand over the premiership cup to his team. Meanwhile, Hassa Mann and Bryan Kenneally were hoping to be the ones to hand over the mantle of ‘last Melbourne premiership’ to the players of 2021, with love from 1964. Kenneally was beaming, interviewed in the MCG stands, while Brad Green also made his way onto the flourishing arena – it’ll be beautiful for the Ashes! – his presence a wistful reminder of what could be, what wasn’t, and what might be.
But in the end, it was not something for which you could be prepared. Deep breath – look at the banner. ‘One Team, One Dream’. How apt. Like the Western Bulldogs, Melbourne had a team and a dream that spanned a continent. What a season, what a Grand Final. Filled with fireworks and music, held in the warmth of a Perth night, the game was there to be won. Melbourne past player Darren Kowal was there with his family, ‘ready to cheer loud for all who can’t attend.’
We loved it. From Petracca’s first goal, to the comeback from 19 points down; from Fritsch’s 6.2 to Jack Viney playing his 150th in style. We loved the crowd cheering for us as well, over there in a foreign place. When Johanissen kicked the first goal of the second half, a Bulldogs’ supporter waved his guernsey joyously. Sitting behind him, however, a Melbourne supporter shook his head defiantly. We loved every spark of humour, every note of excitement, every scream of ‘GO DEES!!!’
The game itself was a fast moving procession of improbability. We know the stats. When your team is three goals down in a Grand Final, victory is unlikely, if not impossible. But – in this time especially – most things can happen, and sometimes do actually come true. From Jackson taking over from Gawn in the centre, to seven goals in fifteen minutes during that epic third quarter; from Petracca’s unlikely goal, to sixteen goals of the last seventeen; everywhere, it was Melbourne.
Records were being established by this team as fast as they piled on the goals. Petracca became the first player ever to have 40 possessions in a Grand Final, highlighting his Norm Smith Medal win. Viney – Jack and Todd – were the first father-son Demons to have played 150 games each; and what a wonderful time for Jack to make that milestone. Fritsch was the first player to kick six goals in a Grand Final since Darren Jarman in 1997.
Then, with his goal after the siren, teammates already celebrating around him, McDonald delivered Christmas to everyone in red and blue. A record margin – the most since that grand old team of 1956 – was a beautifully emphatic way in which to mark the club’s thirteenth premiership. Coach Simon Goodwin – whose mantra of ‘Let’s Be Us’ had borne the ultimate fruit with a flag – was shedding tears, as were all the coaches, support staff and players around him, hugging, shouting and rejoicing. The pent up emotions of 57 years were let go, from Optus Stadium to every Melbourne supporter, everywhere.
It was almost too much to comprehend. But, in the aftermath of presentations and celebrations, two moments have stuck. The little girl who handed Petracca his premiership medal squeaked in joy: ‘You finally did it!’ Yes, they did. Finally. Then, Max Gawn, happiness personified, remembered the past with a roll call of the lost and not forgotten, as much the heart and soul of this triumph as anyone. Stynes, Bailey, Broadbridge, Flower…part of the spirit, part of the story always. ‘It’s coming home!’, Gawn yelled in triumph.
Indeed it is. And we can’t wait to see it, back home, back to the MCG, and happy, just like us. Thank you, Melbourne, for 2021 and always.
Lynda Carroll is beyond ecstatic that her beloved Demons were crowned 2021 AFL Premiers. She is still researching for an updated MFC history, which she is writing alongside her duties for the MFC Past and Present Players’ and Officials’ Association, and is currently working part-time as an MCC Collections Cataloguer.
Cover image: Quinn Rooney/Getty Images