Collingwood vs Brisbane: Do it for Cara

Collingwood vs Brisbane: Do it for Cara:

By Luke Mason

Sitting in the pocket of level one of the new look Olympic Stand at the Punt Road end, the halftime break couldn’t have come quick enough. Dub my expectations too high and unfair if you must, but I was disappointed with our efforts.

Perhaps it was our thumping, monumental victory over a hapless Geelong a fortnight earlier, I don’t know.

As good (?!) as Brisbane had been over the three weeks prior, I was expecting a handy victory. As it turned out, we got one, but it was not the thumping, shellacking win I was hoping for.

Unfair, yes, certainly, as it turned out.

But I was expecting that we were going to have the Lions locked out of the contest by halftime, and was looking forward to our special third terms.

Ok, they were over optimistic; I have a habit of hoping for too much.

But, that ‘hope’ was for a different Collingwood unit. With this one, I expect success, I expect to win. Makes a refreshing change.

Take the recent contest (I say that word light-heartedly) against Carlton in round six, when the dismal, flat Blues nudged their way into the front at halftime.

In any of the past ten seasons, I’d be expecting the worst, expecting the run on. Not that afternoon, nor this season. I didn’t even bat an eyelid, which is strange. I just knew we would steamroll them. And steamroll them we did.

And so I headed to the MCG on a cool, crisp Saturday evening with only one thing on my mind: victory, and by a fair margin at that.

So fast forward to halftime of that Brisbane match, and my air of confidence, bordering on arrogance, had been reduced to its old self. Shaky and uncertain.

And why? Brisbane, damn them. They have caused us that much heartache over the past four seasons, and since 2003 have bullied us into submission, flattening our confidence and thought processes.

On Saturday night, we had all the early play, Neon Leon picking up where he left off over the past three weeks, and big Anthony Rocca looking menacing.

But a quick, ultra-fortunate goal to the overrated crumber Ashley McGrath and the Lions were back in business.

Is overrated for McGrath? No. He was selected at pick 13 in the 2000 National Draft, the same one which produced Riewoldt, Koschitzkie, Didak, Lonie, Kerr, Coughlin and Jason Cloke. At the time, I recall he was likened to a young Peter Matera, with the capacity to burst the game open and run the lines up and down the wing.

Shift the clock forward to 2006, and he is a goalsneak, and not much more. Tackles ok, but lacks the workrate of Didak.

After that gift goal (Licca lost his senses for a single moment in coughing up the pill to McGrath in the goalmouth), McGrath and friends went on to have a crack and Licca and any other Magpie in sight. Fair enough, but another instance of Brisbane sinking the boot into us whenever possible.

An incident that proved we are made of tougher mettle than previous Collingwood units was the one involving the big bricklike Jonathon Brown crashing into Nick Maxwell during the first term.

Maxy is as tough as nails, for a bloke who lacks the weight of his contemporary, and will bleed for his side, the sort of player any Collingwood supporter cannot diss.

And so Brown crashed and smashed his way through the ground, and met Maxwell solidly with every ?? of his frame. Maxy wore one, and it would have hurt like hell, but he opted to wear the pain, keep the head over the ball and dish it off, and away we went.

Acts like that are known by many coaches as ‘selfless acts’. In other words, committing themselves for the greater good of the team.

Maxy soon limped off with what was initially believed to be a badly bruised calf, and what was instead diagnosed as a small fracture in his leg. 4-6 weeks on the sidelines, curse our luck.

How ironic – as soon as anyone, supporters or media, start to mention our glorious, dream run with injury (a massive contrast to our 2005 toll, which was nearly half as long as our list), bang, we are smacked with injuries, and to three players who have proved their weight in gold in 2006, and all jog onto the field with the tag underrated draped around their necks.

Maxy, Dane Swan and captain classy, Blake Caracella, all suffered unwanted, and in Blake’s case, horrific injuries. Pop goes our bubble, and our depth is immediately tested.

Most are arguing that the latest spate will prove a positive thing for the club, forcing us to give Harry O'Brien, the fallout man, Jason Cloke and Ben Davies a chance to reap the benefits of their toil for Williamstown.

Now that is terrific, but what isn’t terrific is Cara’s injury.

Straying away from the original topic now, but I cannot let this issue go.

All week I have searched my brain for a word to sum up Blake’s neck/spinal injury suffered when ex-teammate Tim Notting cannoned in to his head in the second term on the outer wing, leaving the silky smooth half forward that close to etching his name into the record books as only the second league footballer to become a quadriplegic.

At the time, it was obvious Cara was in some discomfort, and from where I was, looked to simply be knocked out cold. Fair enough, I thought, we’ll move on, we’ll see him back out here on Monday against Melbourne. At least he was awake, able to move his head and flap his arms...

Fat chance, Luke.

It became apparent that there was something wrong when he lay there for an extended period of time, while doctors and medical staff hurried out onto the field to assist him.

And what did the umpires do here, while a number of medical staff are attending to him, and a stretcher is being ferried out onto the field?

Turned a blind eye to it and called play on for 1-2 minutes after nearly everyone else had woken up to Blake’s misfortune.

Finally, with Brisbane in possession of the football, play was brought to a halt.

Now that was clever, not listening to any players or not even taking note of the numbers attending to Caracella, wasn’t it?

I have always been of the firm belief that play should always, always be brought to a hold while players are being treated on the field.

What would have happened if, for one reason or another, the ball, or play, moved into the area which was occupied by Cara and the medical crew, and actually landed on the injured player? Imagine the carnage and problems then?

Finally, umpire Brett Allan (one of the best men in white going around, he knows his stuff) brought the game to a stop.

But the question must be asked: why did Blake Caracella not receive a free kick from the whole tragedy?

In all honesty, Cara had his head and shoulders firmly planted over the football, and continued to do so when the ball bounced awkwardly away from him.

Notting, generally a fair player, a skilful one at that, cannoned into his former comrade at a million miles an hour, and did to with his hip on the side of Blake’s head, shoving his head/neck at an awkward, sharp angle backwards and to the left. Ouch with a capital O.

Now, I have nothing against Tim Notting, but surely even he would admit that it was a free kick to Caracella. Headhigh contact, not playing the ball...pretty clearcut to me. And don’t even try to tell me that not one of the three umpires did not see it. Surely one had their eyes on the play?

And not even a damned free from the whole disaster which could well spell the end to Blake’s excellent and underrated footballing career.

I have been at a loss all week to describe the incident and the consequences for the poor bloke.

It’s hard to think, Blake Caracella, the silky skilled Essendon flanker, the crafty Australian IR player, the composed Brisbane Lion, the most underrated pick-up Collingwood has had in years, the duel premiership hero, the man expected to be the future of the Bombers, alongside Chris Heffernan and Justin Blumfield...was millimetres off becoming a quadriplegic and now a chance to never play football again.

Blake Caracella. It’s just hard to believe.

He has been one of my favourite players, and not just at Collingwood. Always admired him at Essendon, and never looked right in the Brisbane guernsey. He found his home at the Lexus Centre, or so I reckon. He was a Collingwood supporter as a boy, and I recall reading in the Football Record of round one for season 1998, for the match between Essendon and Richmond, that his all-time favourite player is/was none other than the Macedonian Marvel Peter Daicos.

It is just so sad to see his body laid there on the MCG turf, head in a neck brace, body motionless and, even worse, disgusting infact, the catcalls from the outer labelling Caracella weak.

I’m sorry, but I have never seen those people out there in the field of battle, and cannot imagine them sticking their heads over the pill and risking their lives for their football club. Seriously, there should always be grounds for opinions, and fair enough, but uneducated, unfair, and downright mean comments labelling Blake Caracella “soft” is an utter disgrace, and I will have none of it.

My jumper, circa 2003, has had a blank place left on the black number patch at the back since I received it for my birthday in November of that year.

Waiting, I have been, for the next hero to emerge. The one who would lead us to greatness, the unsung hero who continued to wear it for the team, the man who came from nowhere to make an impression.

Since then, we have endured dark days...making it a difficult choice to anoint the next man to take over the throne owned by Nathan Buckley and Gavin Brown since 1995.

At many stages it has looked like The Man himself may yet again get a run in the Black and White jumper of mine.

As well as Bucks, names such as Caracella, Johnson, Davies, Wakelin, Burns, Prestigiacomo, Didak, Clement, Thomas, Fraser and Maxwell have all been tossed around. I even contemplated a number 10 immortalising the hero that was/is Rupert Betheras, or a signed 26 in honour of the great Gavin Brown.

But no, it has been signed, sealed, and delivered. Blake Caracella is the man. The jumper is yours, complete with the classy looking, smart number 10, following on from some great men such as Paul Williams and Rupe himself, as well as the untried and discarded Billy Morrison.

Even if he does not play another game of league football (and it is entirely his decision, I hope he makes the right one), the number 10 goes on his honour. No matter what, he deserves it.

When I was much younger playing footy a number of years ago, a mother of one of my teammates remarked that I played like Caracella...(circa 2001). A deft touch here, classy pass there...I don’t know, but they were, and are, hallmarks of Blake Caracella’s football over the years.

Anyhow...how far have I digressed! The main thing is, I cannot find a fitting word to sum up Blake’s misfortune. The ones currently floating through my mind include horrific, disgraceful, sad, messy, unfortunate, tragic, unfair, ghastly, dreadful, awful, cruel....

Pick anyone of those words and it fits.

So best of luck, Blake, and I look forward to you, at some stage down the line, hopefully, returning to the field of battle in a Collingwood jumper. We, the club, players, supporters and football public, are all right behind you.

Back to the game.

We fiddled around with it for a while in the first half, missing sitters (Davis miscuing a shocker) before Pebbles got us back on course with a monster of a kick, sailing high into the sky, the crowd silenced before it deviated off course and dropped home for a goal. Typical Rocca roost, not a thing wrong with it.

We then proceeded to lose Swanny and Maxy with injury (although it was unknown at the time). And when Cara went down, it threw us off course. Only one fit interchange player and a Josh Fraser battling on one leg.

Then, during the latter stages of the second term, after we had skipped out to a 20 point buffer, the old doubts and demons resurfaced, in the names of Jason Akermanis (accompanied by the chorus of 54,000 boos), Brown, Daniel Bradshaw (who slipped away from James Clement) and the brutal Jamie Charman.

Bang bang bang, and they were back in the game, as the match turned physical, due to Blake’s injury and the monsterlike Charman ironing out big Pebbles on the wing.

From where I was and what I saw later, the hit was fair. But the Match Review panel saw it in a different light, the ruckman wearing a one week ban.

It could well have been a spin off from the Caracella incident, which was ugly yet accidental, the tribunal looking to oust Charman in a move which is a fair blight on head-high contact. Maybe, maybe not, I don’t know.

And that is where it got to, halftime, the Lions trailing by nine or so points, the deficit of the 2002 Grand Final.

They came out firing, following the longest halftime I’ve ever experienced (nearly went through the Record twice!). Brown looked ominous having recovered from the Maxwell collision, the usually reliable Presti powerless to hold him.

Bradshaw, too, proved a menace, his high marking and ability to find position unsettling the normally unflappable Clement.

And then wrested the lead off us, and time where the Collingwood Magpies of 2006 reached a critical fork in the road.

Would we retreat into our shadows in the ways we had in previous encounters, or would we stand up tall and make ourselves counted, show that this group is made of the right stuff?

Thankfully, we showed the latter, and what a courageous victory it proved to be.

One fit player on the pine in an era where rotations are the norm was always going to make it tough, and, as the saying goes, when the going gets tough, the tough get going. And so it proved.

Burnsy, in his first full midfield run for the season carved them up, Licca and Brodie Holland won plenty of the ball and Tarkyn Lockyer returned to his best of 2001/2002, used as the linkman through the middle and winning plenty of his own ball at the same time.

Tarks provided the healthy 54,000 crowd with a bright moment, when he was put down in a contest on the wing.

Lockyer was gasping for air on his haunches, about 5-7m off the pack of 4-5 players. The ball was flipped out the back door in his direction, and he shot out of the ground, surprising all, nabbing the ball and cutting his way through the pack. Inspiring stuff!

And how could we get this far without mentioning the match winner, the maestro, Nathan Buckley, the greatest Magpie of the past 50 years?

The legend grew once more on Saturday night, in slotting home a career best six goals to guide us through difficult periods to victory. Amazing stuff.

He at times seemed to overawe the champion niggler of the AFL Brad Scott and former rookie teammate Jason Roe, now carving out a handy career with the Lions. Midfield, backline, forward line wherever, Bucks can do it all.

After Bucks had restored our lead to go into ¾ time, Brisbane had one final crack at us, with Bradshaw and Brown again slipping under our guards.

It looked ominous, to say the least, an eerie feeling descending upon the MCG as the Lions portion of the crowd (what portion I hear you ask?) began to find some voice.

“Not this time, surely not...not again. Please no” was all I could muster. I was just hoping Burnsy could give the brilliant Brown a repeat dose of the 2003 Grand Final collision! Oh how I wish that he and Pebbles could team up in the Black and White.

Which leads us onto something interesting, and something that hurt, but did not kill us on the night. Chris Tarrant’s suspension.

It was silly, the quick flick of the arm back onto the face of Bulldog Dale Morris, and deserved a week, it could have been worse; the tribunal seem to have a disliking for Taz.

But the lack of a second tall, dominant forward seemed destined to dent our chances, with Fraser struggling on one leg and Roe playing as the loose man across halfback, getting in Pebbles road.

It’ll be a massive plus to have him back this week, especially against an undersized Demons forward division, a team Taz has eaten in the past.

Something that befuddled me was the non-selection of Travis Cloke, in the absence of Taz. With Roe cutting off Pebbles at every opportunity, we were damn fortunate to have Bucks to support us.

With Travis, we may well have been able to force Roe to play accountability, freeing up Pebbles and allowing us to bomb longer inside fifty, with Travis playing the role of Taz.

It does not matter now, we won, and Malthouse was proven correct, thankfully, but it was interesting nonetheless.

Another commandment for Malthouse and his coaching staff is the resting of Dale Thomas. In a clever move by the club, Thomas can now enjoy the weeks break, his unmatched enthusiasm and fitness levels boosted once more, it should be interesting to see how he has benefited from it on the big stage against Melbourne next week.

Speaking of massive pluses, Guy Richards proved to be just that on Saturday night.

Finally the majority of his doubters can keep quiet for a week, for Saturday was a glimpse into some of the reasons behind our persistence with him since drafting him in 2000 for a return of 20 or so games.

He showed some mettle and strength opposed to the much stronger Charman and Beau McDonald, and looked more composed and settled around the ground than ever.

I have always been a great supporter of the Stretch, and last week vindicates by beliefs, he is a potentially great tap ruckman in the mould of a Spida Everitt, and is the better option than Cameron Cloke when rucking.

No offence to CC, who could yet end up a handy grunt ruckman, but I feel that Richards has more class and natural rucking ability than Cam.

Another highlight was Ryan Lonie, showing some of the scars from those Grand Finals have heeled. Neon and Dids were classy, too.

Must also note Shane O’Bree’s goal assist for Davis in the last. He gathered the ball in heavy traffic, somehow found a path through the pack and threaded it through to Davis for a certain goal. Play like that reassures you, it was certainly the right move to retain Cheesy at the end of 2004.

There was also the efforts of the new boy, Scott Pendlebury, who has had to play two months of top notch football for Willy to finally crack the AFL ranks, and he did not disappoint.

His class was on show in the way he danced around Akermanis in the final term, and his speed, dash and much-hyped evasive skills were also displayed when he went for a few runs up field.

And showing he is far from a one trick pony, he was found at the base of a few packs in farming the ball out by hand, setting the play up in the process. Nice goal with his first kick, too.

At the end of the day, and considering the circumstances, it was a monumental victory, one which has been said by some to define our season. I reckon it may just prove the making of Collingwood in 2006. Yet another bogey side makes way for the Black and White juggernaut.

Go into the break chock full of confidence and flog Melbourne, and show them who is number one in the footballing state.

Carna’ Pies, and get well soon, Blake.