The 60th Perth derby was no classic, and certainly no demolition, but it delivered a much-needed win for Fremantle. There has been an anxiety growing around the Dockers – about the coaching, about their trustworthiness and about the way they manage their moments in close finishes. The wolves would have been at the door had they dropped this. Thankfully for them, in a typically spirited local affair, they had too much class and too much run in the legs for the Eagles.
Freo’s priority on Sunday was to recapture their midfield dominance. Sydney and Geelong, two AFL teams that tend not to excel in that area, trounced them in the stoppages in the first fortnight. Caleb Serong, coming off a rare poor game last week, racked up 35 touches, more than half of them contested. He has only just turned 24, but has already been best afield in four derbies.
For a little fella, Serong has excellent midfield craft, standing behind his direct opponent, planting a leg in between and twisting him off balance with a swivel of his hips. And he has such a good rapport with Luke Jackson, especially at boundary throw ins, where he hits the ball at speed. In the air, on the ground, on the spread, pushing back and sneaking forward, Jackson was the premier big man on the ground, and would probably be leading their best and fairest so far.
In what’s traditionally been a pretty predictable line up, the addition of Shai Bolton changes the dynamic. The Dockers are still figuring out how best to use him, how to let him flourish, and how to best utilise his talents to open up their own game. He was shadowed by Brady Hough but he still had his moments in his first derby, whirring, jagging and slicing. Another addition, the first gamer Isaiah Dudley, all 5ft 5in of him, also slunk forward for two early goals. For too long, the Dockers have been a bit staid, an easy team to scout and exploit. Bolton and maybe even Dudley should change that.
The Eagles were coming off the longest road trip in football and were by no means disgraced. Harley Reid mostly stayed out of trouble, pulled down the mark of the day and inspired a mass protest where thousands of aggrieved and apparently grown adults did a middle-fingered salute at the nine-minute mark of the first quarter.
Optus Stadium was packed but the MCG was sparse and silent on Saturday on what was a dire day for Melbourne. There’s a lot of talk right now that this is the end of the Simon Goodwin era, and that Melbourne’s attritional way of playing has run its race. I reckon it’s too early to call, especially with Kozzie Pickett and Jake Lever unavailable and their inform draftee Xavier Lindsay injuring his knee in the opening minutes.
But they really were dreadful. They played a pokey game and were annihilated at centre clearances. For years, they’ve hung their hats on that part of their game and when it’s absent, there’s little left. They’ve spent the summer talking about love and connection to the point where they started to sound like Ned Flanders’ beatnik father. But it was a disconnected, listless team out there on Saturday. At one stage, Christian Petracca flubbed a kick and punched the turf repeatedly. By the time he’d got to his feet, the ball had trampolined the entire length of the field with just three Gold Coast possessions.
In nearly every point in their history, at this ground, against this type of opponent, the Suns have failed to turn up. For perhaps the first time ever, you can see a distinct style of play, a system, a determination to attack from half back in waves, like a rugby league team. It’s the “raus, raus” football that Hardwick cultivated at Richmond. They had a dozen players with over a hundred games experience, but arguably the best of them has yet to reach that marker. Matt Rowell was on a rampage on Saturday, rolling over what used to be the most feared midfield in football. His best mate from school Noah Anderson is such a different player – and almost seems to play within himself at times. He’s no less effective mind you. Rowell stands at every stoppage like a prize-fighter, nostrils flared, and attacking every contest like it’s personal.
“Before the game, you just make eye contact with him and off he goes,” Hardwick says. Hardwick looked, Rowell went, the Dees were pummelled, and the three-dozen panel shows had their fodder for the week.
