I go to the footy for three reasons. Firstly, I hope to be witness to the perfect moment, that rare blend of the poetic and balletic, when the players channel the ball with an energy and directness which can only be borne of fury’s marriage with grace.
At Brisbane’s affectionately-named Gabba, on this particular night, Carlton managed several of these fizzing instances, mostly at the behest of one Christopher Judd, whilst the Lions’ players fell in their wake like flapping fish churned up by a fast-spinning propeller.
Secondly, I want to be lulled back to my youth, when I too tumbled across the sodden turf in search of that ever-elusive kick to position, handball to advantage, mark to goal.
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If you thought one win against the lowly Kangaroos was enough to keep the wolves from the door, think again.
Michael Voss, the Brisbane Lions favourite and most decorated son has found himself standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down and wondering when he’s going to feel the hand of power pushing him in the back.
In this, his third year at the helm, he stands accused of systematically bringing the football club he served with such distinction as a player and captain to its knees with some of the most arrogant and ill informed decision making we have seen from an AFL senior coach.
IT was a bit like the Itchy & Scratchy Show. Brisbane Lions skipper Jonathan Brown was itchy ... itchy for the ball in his AFL Round 1 clash against West Coast.
Brown’s Lions teammate and reigning Coleman medallist Brendan Fevola was scratchy ... scratchy in front of goal.
There was plenty of hype about the Lions’ new dynamic duo during the off-season. Will the Lions’ new-look forward line work, starring Brown and Fev?
Biblical scholars generally agree that on the seventh day God created the Essendon Football Club. And so it came to pass that in 2000AD, as humanity braced for the second coming, the mighty Bombers did descend from heaven and banish the Melbourne Demons with righteous fire.
And lo how the people rejoiced; yet away from the dancing and merrymaking the prophet Leigh Matthews was watching the skies, waiting for a sign…
Matthews was the coach of the Brisbane Lions, a relatively new team which derived its strength from the gayness of anyone who barracked for it. Yet while this power source was abundant, Matthews was a cautious man and carefully studied the form of the Lions’ nemesis.
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