Round 10 Over 55s Match Report
by Dusty
The Eastern Warriors waited until the last game of the season to notch up their first win in a thrilling and inspiring encounter against a star-studded South Yarra side on Sunday. We were an undermanned unit, missing our colossus of a ruckman – Carbo, our terrier of a tackler – Grunta and our personification of passion – Pas. We were also carrying a few injuries. CT was playing with a bad back; held together with surgical bracing, he ran like a robot and you could hear strange creaking sounds as he went past; Dave H was playing with a painful heel, leading him to hop rather than run (it must be said he is a very fast hopper) and Gez was playing after recently undergoing surgery – I think the anaesthetic has perhaps not entirely worn off. He took the field with a glazed expression and a slightly bewildered grin.
But this match was notable for being the last game for the club of the mercurial Magoo and more significantly it was my fiftieth game in a Warrior jumper. With cries of “do it for Dusty!” ringing in our ears the Warriors side sprang from the sheds and the game began. From the opening bounce the Warriors were up and about, we tackled fiercely and won contest after contest. Thorney, the world’s second smallest ruckman, threw himself into the impossible task of combatting the South Yarra giant with the kind of bravery and abandon that has led him to become a cult figure in certain parts of South America. (Apparently there is a statue of him in Guyana holding a pineapple in one hand and the head of a jaguar in the other.) Killer was killing them in the middle, Eddy was eddying around the edges of contests and Lou was consistently losing his opponent and finding space.
I’d lined up in the back pocket on a smallish opponent – grey haired, cataracts, heavily bandaged right knee and a tremor that was either early onset Parkinson’s or fear at having to compete with me in my milestone game. It would be fair to say I towelled him up in the first quarter. Frenchy and I took on seven South Yarra opponents deep in the backline and emerged victorious. As I ran effortlessly away my limping opponent and picked out Marko with a perfectly executed pass I almost felt sorry for him. Despite kicking with a strong breeze; our stoic defence, led by the pallid but passionate, Big Al only conceded two goals.
Our turn with the wind saw the Warriors attacking relentlessly. Clint, part man – part SWAT team, was running amok and pumping the ball into attack like a cannon on heat. Schenky was proving to be a dangerous target and Magoo kicked our first major after a passage of play that was almost poetic in its precision. Lou, obviously aware that I was on song, moved me onto the wing for the quarter and I gathered plenty of the pill. It was liberating to be out of defence and with the theme song of “Born Free” ringing in my ears I ran around in the open spaces of the wing doing good things by hand and foot. When Rev kicked a miracle goal from somewhere behind the cricket nets the small but enthusiastic crowd cheered wildly – everybody sensed that an upset was in the wind. We went into the rooms at half time, two goals behind – but full of belief. I chewed my lolly snake with greater vigour than usual and dared to dream.
The second half was a titanic struggle. South Yarra kicked with the wind and scored a few, Magoo received a very composed toe poke from the recuperating Jezza and slammed through a much needed goal. The Warriors were working together as a team, Pogsy found space on the wing and linked up beautifully with the graceful Nugget. Kenny did Kenny things, bringing the kind of X-factor that marks him out as a special part of this team. When Magoo pounced on a centring kick from Eddy and slammed through another we had a sniff. And we were ready to inhale deeply of that sniff, filling our lungs with the air of hope and possibility as entered the final term.
