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Sports

The Spew Round 22 - ​Pyrrhic Victory and Satellite's Gone

West Coast beat Hawthorn but lost Natainui, and down in Tassie, North had another almost-but-not-quite against Sydney.
Screenshot via Google

Previously:
Round 21 Round 20

West Coast vs Hawthorn, Subiaco Stadium

At Subiaco on Friday night the Eagles play host to the Hawks and immediately throw wine onto their freshly pressed cream pantaloons. The Eagles have control of ground and air early, although the plucked chicken Gunston soon puts a score on the board. Hutchings is holding Mitchell on a short leash and appears to give him a course of worming tablets. The Wet Toast formula seems to consist of long, deep thrusts into their forward line where Kennedy is feasting on leather like Henry VIII fed on lamb legs, doublets and ladies. By the end of quarter 1 it's 33:13.

Naitinui starts quarter 2 with a Hulk smash forward which collapses space-time, transporting LeCras from 1984 to the present where he bears a new fandangled haircut which is very modish, almost contemporaneous. But without his 1984 power hair he only possesses Ralph Macchio pre-Miyagi powers. Fortunately for the Eagles Jetta is bringing the defensive heat in a big way, like a blazing vice.

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Ten minutes go by before anyone goals, Darling dribbling one through. In the midfield Naitinui tackles Puopolo and spins him around like he's an arrow on a Twister board. The arrow points toward Hawthorn's goals and—getting into the gaming spirit—Puopolo soon pops up forward like the quarry in 'whack a mole' and sneaks one through. It's clear Priddis has had a trim of his poodle hair and I wonder if they have had a bonding team haircut and manicure combo. The half ends 58:26 in West Coast's favour.

When Mitchell delivers the ball like a page-boy to the Eagles at the start of the third quarter you know they are off their noggins tonight. My eldest daughter chooses to inform me of love interest from some teenage hacker/would be paramour at this point and I think about the handsome dowry this might yield and lose track of 5 minutes of play, just like West Coast. Hodge like a sedated cucumber coolly passes to plucked chicken for a goal and when Sicily bags one the Hawks have snuck up to be 23 points down. The Eagles achieve repose with some haircut to haircut play, but Naitinui goes down with a knee, soon to be followed by Ceglar.

In the last stanza, Masten attempts to hold up McEvoy in general play with a full body tickle which is monumentally sus.

After a bold defensive move by Frawley consisting of slowing the ball down with his nuts, Kennedy snaps it over his shoulder for his 5th pushing the score out to 91:50. The heat's gone out of this game but some visual thrills remain: Hodge place kicking a pass to Sicily; Lewis punching Lycett in the jaw which BT imaginatively calls 'a little push'; Hodge locking onto Shuey's neck like he's a can-opener with Shuey dutifully turning himself like a can of peaches, and Wellingham arguing about a Hawthorn trademark 9 metre pass. I would love to see a player pull a tape measure out one day, that would be high art. The Eagles win handsomely 92:67 but with Naitinui out for the remainder of the season it's a Pyrrhic victory.

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North Melbourne vs Sydney, Blundstone Arena

Blundstone Arena with its suburban environs is an unlikely setting for a showdown between the Bloods and the Crips but here we are. Sydney are kicking to the brutalist clock end and befitting that fact Heeney takes a delightful nose mark and Franklin receives a Thompson elbow to the kidney region which sees him double up to expose his taupe coloured old lady underpants.

Dystopian brutalist clock tells time, sets tone

Dal Santo is looking ghostly pale, even by Tasmanian standards and soon this footballing Casper haunts Sydney's defence, kicking 2 goals in succession. When a ball goes over the electrified cattle fence of Blundstone, it's lost forever to the maws of the wilderpeople and Rampe has to grab a new one. But Sydney dominate the quarter and lead 34:22.

Early in the second quarter North dominate with more forward advances than David Brent and with similar outcomes. Half way through the quarter there have been no goals—who could have imagined that something hosted in Tasmania could be boring? Hang on! Suddenly Brown marks and starts his run up in Launceston, making his way to Hobart where he kicks…for a point. Petrie finally lands one after an impressive Gaelic flick to self against two Swans defenders in the goalmouth, but despite dominating inside 50s 16:4 there's not much to show for it.

This game needs some razzamatazz, the type of excitement only a truculent team like Brisbane can provide. Despite sowing dragon's teeth, North have reaped fleas from this quarter and the half-time score line reads 44:32.

At the recommencement Umpire Schmitt is attempting to usurp Ray Chamberlain's mantle as the most officious umpire in the racket when he penalises Rohan for a half-step over the mark. Brown marks impressively in superman pose with Rampe his cape and converts. There's a flurry of goals and after each North one there is a quick burst of shitrock. Memories of distant 80s suburbia casts a spell over the ground. You can see over the short walls the suburbs and wonder what lies beyond: gigantic trees, incinerators, survivalist compounds and sex dungeons. You know it. The quarter ends 74:67 Sydney's way.

The first goal of the last quarter goes to Harvey, accompanied by shitrock—North's soundtrack to war—and there's only 3 points in it. I notice North have golden shoulder embellishments and a little golden trophy on their jumpers. No doubt this is an ode to their golden season; North have been the masters this season of the shit start and clawback. Franklin has a short burst of relevance after appearing like someone who had an organ stolen earlier in the game. Hannebery kicks Sydney's only goal for the quarter and North players need to start moving but they're stiller than a still-life by Cézanne. In desperation Ziebell sends a satellite kick into space hoping for signs of life but there are none. Curtains are drawn at 85:76 with Sydney the victors.

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