Preliminary, but oh so final

Oh yes darling, I’ve travelled a bit. I once gawped into that huge tangerine canyon in Nevada and I have ridden a bicycle along the Seine all the way to the Eiffel Tower and looked up at it in wonder. I’ve stood in eerie silence on the dusty stone of the Colosseum and been mesmerised by the history and drama of those ancient ruins.

The point is, it’s a big ol’ world out there and there’s plenty of pretty things to see, but if you lined them all up, I’d still probably choose to walk to the MCG at night on preliminary final weekend.

My first experience of that was in 2007 when the Cats went to battle with the Magpies in front of a packed house. That was a night to remember. At the time, I’d never played a final and I watched on in awe for most of the night. Two top teams going toe-to-toe and leaving it all out on the field.

Garry Ablett in the 2007 preliminary final.

Garry Ablett in the 2007 preliminary final.

Brad Ottens seemed to grow in physical size as the match progressed, but it might’ve just been his stature in the game itself that grew. When Gary Ablett jnr swooped on that ball late in the game and snapped what felt like an iconic goal, even in the moment, it was all over for the Magpies.

Truthfully, I didn’t take much notice of the Collingwood players as they left the field that night. I probably should have. Their immense hurt then, I would feel intimately for the next three years. On this night, my eyes were drawn to the Cats as they celebrated. They’d had a magnetic power about them all that year and they were now on the verge of breaking their club's premiership drought. I felt the twinge. That footballer cocktail of jealousy mixed with motivation.

No one can agree on much these days. Football is no different. If anything, the disagreement might be even more magnified. I’m intrigued by the language we use in our game or the words we reach for to describe certain situations.

Can a player's brilliance be described as ''art''? Is a football ground a battlefield, even of sorts? I’m not after an answer, not today, but I want to put a red line through one line, in honour of the stage that sets preliminary finals apart: “They’ve got nothing to lose.” Chuck that one into the dustbin.

Anyone who loses a preliminary final will feel like they have been impaled by the time they’re slumped on the floor of that changeroom. I remember on this day 10 years ago my assistant coach at the time, Wayne Campbell, telling me after a heroic semi-final win against the Bloods that the euphoria of that victory would disappear without a follow-up win. He was right, of course, as he often is.

When you get close and fall short, the emptiness is heavy. There’s plenty to lose, all right. And everybody knows it.

But the carrot. Oh, that carrot looms large. The Tigers still have some of it stuck in their teeth, but they’ve shown themselves to be as hungry as any team we’ve ever seen. They are the team to beat. The top seed. Twice this year, they have felt their opponent, Collingwood, fracture on the turn for home in the last quarter. They’ll be confident, but everyone is confident on the eve of this weekend. The other option is unthinkable.

The Magpies deserve to be here. They’ve inspired us this year with a commitment to coach and each other all year. I wonder if they believe they’ve edged closer to the Tigers this season and whether they believe, really believe, that they can topple them on Friday night. It would be an upset, but we’ve seen far bigger. I think it’ll be close. 2007 Cats-Magpies close.

Ablett a year later, scorching the Bulldogs.

Ablett a year later, scorching the Bulldogs.

Can you imagine the build-up for a preliminary final in Perth, playing for the Eagles, in your new stadium? In those last few moments before a big game, as the players gather together: it is a delusion of sorts. You’re trying to convince each other that collectively you are more than you ever thought you could be. The Eagles will inflate at 12.59pm on Optus stadium.

And what about the Demons? They finished fifth. They get the wobbles sometimes. They’re inexperienced at finals and they could rightly feel a sense of contentment at what they’ve already achieved, but that’s just not how it feels, is it? The Demons are hungry and brash and seem to be riding the emotional wave we all feel or observe. The oldest football club in the land has been hurting a long time and a win on Saturday will go a long way to easing half a century of pain.

I watched that happen from an unusual view a few years ago at my own club, and it is by far the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in football. A team healing its own club. That’s something to play for. And it’s a fair bit to miss out on, too.

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