Photograph: Sarah Reed/AFL Photos/Getty Images
As Collingwood prepared to run out at the Adelaide Oval on Saturday night, Craig McRae was in a side room meditating. Whether you’re coaching them, plotting against them, or taking them in as a neutral, centring yourself for ten or 15 minutes isn’t a bad strategy because just watching the Magpies can leave you jangled.
It makes sense that Collingwood’s psychologist sits on the bench during games, a few seats up from the coach. She hammers home key messages and puts her arm around some of the more hot-headed youngsters. We could all use a calm, reassuring voice during Collingwood games. Instead, we’re at the mercy of the Channel 7 commentary team – with their verbal jujitsu and their stationwide policy of stating the freakin’ obvious. “Did you see that?!” Luke Darcy asked about 100 times on Saturday night. We did, fella. We’ve been seeing it for well over a year now.
Collingwood v Port Adelaide was an absolute barnburner of a game. It pitted first against second and showcased some of the best young footballers in Australia. It was a finals contest in all but name with plenty of niggle. It saw 11 lead changes. McRae said it was the best game he’s been involved in as Collingwood coach, which is saying a lot.
The last time these sides met, busloads of Power fans made the trip from Adelaide to the MCG. Halfway through the second term, they were facing a miserable journey home. The bus driver was more chance of winning a contested ball. Port just couldn’t get their hands on the footy and were cut to ribbons by the Daicos brothers. They addressed that on Saturday night. Their intent was quickly evident in the wild eyed, barrel chested and much maligned Sam Powell-Pepper, who shrugged off Darcy Moore - the proverbial pit bull on an Irish Setter - and check-sided the home side’s first goal.
They went for Nick Daicos too. He was booed and buffeted. Ken Hinkley is probably the most old-school of the 18 AFL coaches and there’s few things more old-school in footy than sending a tagger to the Brownlow Medal favourite. Willem Drew, who had 16 tackles, was in his back pocket all night. Daicos had his usual moments, but was more harried than perhaps ever before.
The home side did so much right. But you don’t want to be 17 points up at three- quarter time against this Magpie team. 17 points is their sweet spot. 17 points makes it interesting. McRae described a typical three-quarter time message earlier this year. “Honestly, I don’t have to say much. There’s so much evidence there. Boys, you know what to do. Let’s go.” And away they went.
Eventually, and it comes as no surprise these days, the game was in the hands of Jamie Elliott. He’s had rotten luck as a footballer, having missed more than four full seasons through injury. But Elliott has history in these situations. “It’s a pattern of behaviour for Jamie,” McRae said. There’s ice in his veins but he’s also technically sound. We often talk about cricketers as being technically correct, but rarely footballers. Elliott, like Scott Pendlebury, and Nick Daicos, has the fundamentals nailed. He knew exactly what to do and precisely how much space to buy himself. And so, hemmed in the pocket, with the game on the line, he slotted the goal like he was posting a letter.
The passage leading up to that goal bears mentioning too. It’s hard to imagine two more different footballers than Pendlebury and Brody Mihocek. Pendlebury is part coach, part competitor, part computer. Mihocek sometimes looks like he’s been cobbled together with spare parts. As usual he’d spent most of the game crashing packs and bending himself like a pretzel. But it was his gather, his baulk, and his perfectly weighted handball to Pendlebury that set up Elliott.
Collingwood is very much a team that rides its luck. It gives the opposition a look. Every time you go into a Collingwood game, there’s the sense that they’re gettable. The problem for the rest of the competition is Collingwood players don’t agree. Their belief seems almost blind, but there’s a lot of evidence and precedence to back it up.
For all the dad jokes, blithe spirits in the coaching box, and tributes to our servicemen and women, these guys are killers. This is a ruthless footy team. And for all talk of “Flyball” and “the Collingwood Highway” this is a team that’s built from the back, a defensive team. When Port was pressing hard in the second and third terms, it was Collingwood’s backline that saved the game. It was Isaac Quaynor parking himself under high balls, John Noble’s unrewarded running, Moore’s spikes, Murphy’s unconditional attack on the ball.
They’re all very different but they all work for one another. Whenever they concede a goal, they gather as a sextet; a huddle of headbands, a mix of father-son thoroughbreds and bargain basement pickups; the perfect blend of restriction, resolution, risk, and reward, and the key to this most remarkable of footy teams.
