When It Rains....

The final siren sounded and for one team, it was a brilliant moment of celebration.
Unfortunately, for the Oak Park Under 14s, that moment did not belong to them.

In amongst a sea of blue, white, navy and yellow, the feeling was almost too much to bear.
Every single Oak Park heart had become a little deflated, whether those hearts had been on the field, or on the sidelines.
Either way, it was certainly a (momentary) feeling of emptiness and hurt.

I walked across the field toward my younger brother Aidan Santuccione (aka Spaz),
with my eyes to the ground, afraid that if I looked around, my heart would fall out of my butt.
Not because I was disappointed in their efforts, but because my heart was breaking for these
young fighting Kangaroos who had worked so hard all day, and all season.

As I neared my brother, I looked up to see tears streaming down his face.
In fact, there were tears all around the field.
Talk about pulling at the heartstrings…

I wanted to cry harder than I cried when Collingwood lost the 2011 Grand Final, but I knew that my tears would be misinterpreted as a sign of disappointment, so I held myself together, fought them off, put my arms around my baby brother (who’s now basically a foot taller than me, and I’m 30 years old…)
and simply said “I am so proud of you”.

Because I was.
And I am.
And I always will be.
I am proud of every single one of those boys, and so are the rest of us.
And that’s exactly what the Oak Park Under 14s should be feeling, too.
Immense pride.

At the end of the day, this is a team of young guns who, albeit had some pretty lousy decisions made against them on the day, still went out and fought back. They gave their all, and the continuous amount of encouragement they all offered to each other on the field throughout the day was something to marvel at. Some of the boys really put on a show, too, and at times I wasn't sure if I was watching the Oak Park Under 14s or next round of top draft picks for the AFL!

But in amongst all the hurt, sadness and disappointment, there is one key thing these boys need to acknowledge,
and it is the fact that they were even there.
They played in a Grand Final, against an undefeated side.
They made it to the big dance, the big show, and the biggest game of the year, having battled many obstacles throughout the season.

Like they had been told by one of their own, some kids never get an opportunity to play in a Grand Final.
They will never know the highs, the lows, and the mental, physical and emotional aspects that arise when you’re standing on that field for the biggest game of the season.
But these boys did, and they did it with such spirit.

To see faces lighting up whenever a goal was scored, a mark was taken, a tackle was laid, and to hear the constant encouragement offered by their teammates “COME ON OAKERS, WE CAN DO IT!”…
Well - it was an absolute (nerve-wracking) joy to watch.

Each boy made an impact on that day, and each boy has etched another page into the history books.
They have left their mark, and the only way from here, is up.

The skills and knowledge gained on the day will surely outweigh the end result, and there is no substitute for real life experience. If I could go back to being 14 years old, knowing everything that I know now, that is the one piece of advice I would drum into my little head – having a real life experience and dealing with real emotions and feelings is far superior than coasting through life feeling and experiencing nothing at all.

You really do have to stand a little rain to keep it green in paradise.
And this experience is exactly what that was – a little rain.
No matter how hurt, down, sad or disappointed you can feel at times, everything passes – the rain eventually stops.

There simply aren’t enough ways to put it into words that this team is not just a team, but also a family, and no matter the result at the end of the day, the family is unbreakable.
So to you, my dear Oakers, I want you to remember one thing:
The scoreboard may say that you had lost, but you most certainly have won.

You won the experience, you won the lessons, and you won the family you never knew you had.
And even if you gave up footy tomorrow, they would always have your back.

How many footy clubs can say that??

Congratulations, Oak Park Under 14s team of 2016 – be proud of your efforts and here’s to a successful 2017 season. 

x0x - Lady K - x0x

We Fly As One

Finally - I am back - after several weeks away from The Flog.
I apologise for my lack of commitment to my blog, however due to heavily emotional and personal issues, I have not been able to write. But this week, I have been able to overcome certain obstacles and can bring myself back to my Floggers.

It is with a heavy heart I bring to you this week’s post.
An event so immense, it has shaken the entire Australian Football League and its followers to the core.

On Friday, July 3^rd I was woken by a text message from an ex-Collingwood player with news nobody wants to hear. Initially, the message had come across to me as if to say the son of the Coach of the Adelaide Crows had died. Naturally, I was perplexed by this news, however given my friend’s track record with writing text messages that actually make sense, I decided to jump online and find out the whole story. Absolutely nothing could have prepared me for what appeared on my screen:
“Adelaide Crows Coach Phil Walsh has been murdered by his son”.

I didn’t believe the headline. Surely this couldn’t be true. Reading further into the story, it had been alleged that in the early hours of the morning, Police had been called to the Walsh family home after a domestic dispute involving Phil, his son Cy and his wife Meredith. Their daughter Quinn was travelling overseas at the time of the incident. I kept the news page open for the majority of the day, with the story being updated as time ticked on. Already with my heart beginning to break, grim details of the horrific and multiple stab wounds inflicted on Walsh came to light, and my tears began flowing heavily. I felt absolutely shattered. All I could think was “his poor family, those poor players… why has this happened?” Although I did not know Phil personally, I had met him several times through my past years working in the AFL industry and knew of him being an ex-Collingwood player and of course, an accomplished Coach in the Footballing world.

Due to play the Geelong Cats on the coming Sunday, my social media channels were abuzz with tributes to Phil and the looming question:
Does the upcoming game go ahead?
It would have been a completely heartless and unjust ruling to make those players step out onto the field without their Coach, and with the knowledge of how his life had been taken from him so brutally. We would have to wait for the AFL’s press conference to find out the fate of the Club’s weekend fixture. Reports came through that after his psychiatric assessment, Cy Walsh, son and accused killer of Phil Walsh, had been charged with his murder at his bedside. More tears on my end at the thought that this family had just been torn apart. No husband, no father, no son. An injured mother and no doubt an extremely frantic young daughter, rushing home from overseas to greet this tragic circumstance. And an absolutely devastated group of young men who have lost their mentor, their Coach, and some even a father figure. At 1:45pm, after watching many news reports, listening to talk back and reading copious articles about this awful occurrence, I switched on the press conference. AFL Chief Gillon McLaughlin fought back the emotion whilst paying his respects to all those affected, and ruled that the game would not go ahead.
A slight silver lining in an otherwise dark situation.

I felt numb. Yes, we had seen tragedy in the AFL before, and most likely would see it again.
But this was an extreme circumstance. It was not as simple as a terrible accident, like someone crashing their car or falling from a building. This was murder. A word I am trying to get my head around when linking it to the beloved game of AFL. It simply does not make sense.
When I focused on the team itself in terms of what happens next, my mind jumped all over the place. A huge piece of my heart said “end their season now” in order to give them time to grieve. But Walshy would not have wanted this. He would have insisted the show go on, the boys march out, and everybody band together to be stronger than before. Another piece of my heart thought that a week off would simply not be enough. Some of these boys will be haunted by this forever, and it could take weeks, months or even years to be able to work through it. But the main thought I had was that in times of darkness, spirit and support through sadness always shines through. Communities, Clubs and people from all over are able to put their differences aside and band together as one. And that’s exactly what the Footballing world has done. The hash tag #weflyasone was created and has since gone viral, demonstrating just how many of us have been touched by this irreconcilable loss, and just how much support everyone involved has. Our hearts are on our sleeves and the writing is on the wall – AFL is not just a game, it is an entire community. It is one big family.
We ARE a family.

And in times of horror, in times of need, times of quiet desperation, times of love, loss, happiness and joy, we turn to our family, whether they be our actual family, our significant other, our friends, our team mates, coaches or mentors. These are the people we want by our side and these are the people that can pull us back to our feet, so we can stand up, spread our wings, and learn to fly once more. Teams that have played over this past weekend, kicked off by Collingwood and Hawthorn, saw a moment of silence from an entire stadium in memoriam of Phil Walsh, followed by a post-match circle of players and coaches from both clubs intertwined in arms, heads bowed, reflecting and respecting the life of the late Adelaide Coach. The atmosphere in the stadium this night was awe-inspiring, and once again reiterated to me that it certainly is more than just a game.

When I got home from the game, I reflected on my past 28 years of passionate (and sometimes psychotic) following of this game, and on all the wonderful people I have become close to because of this great sport. I have formed bonds and friendships that will last a lifetime, and have often relied on the game itself and the people in it to pull me back to my feet in times of sorrow, sadness and loneliness. This game has given me a sense of belonging and has given me a family outside of my own. And I am more than certain it has done the same for the many thousands of supporters it has across the globe. We are extremely lucky to have this great sport, this great code and this even greater existence of support it provides, and I have no doubt that whether or not Phil was still alive, he would be proud of the support his beloved Crows and of course his family have been receiving.

What I can take away from this unfair and disheartening situation is simply this:
There are always going to be tragedies in the world.
Some are close to home.
Some are close to the heart.
Some you may not have known on a personal scale.
And some can touch you on a level you would never thought possible.
What you choose to take from these things can shape you, teach you and change you.
I have always tried to maintain a level of kindness to those around me, whether or not they are "deserving" of it, and whether or not they give it back. Yes, it has backfired more than enough times. But I have tried my best to never let that dishearten me.
In light of the tragic circumstances surrounding the murder of ex-Collingwood player and current accomplished Coach of the Adelaide Football Club by his own son, it has only cemented my belief that you really do never know the battles people are facing behind closed doors. Domestic violence, sexual abuse, illness and death.. You never know.
I think we can all take something from this grief, and try to be just a little bit kinder to those around us.
Hug your loved ones just that little bit tighter tonight.
We just never know when our clock will stop.
Thank you for your outstanding contribution to the AFL world, for touching the lives of so many around you, and for the legacy you leave behind.
Rest In Peace, Phil Walsh.
#weflyasone
Xx

Rest In Peace, Phil Walsh
1960 - 2015

Ps. On a lighter note, this week’s FLOG OF THE WEEK is awarded (once again) to the Essendon Football Club (or ‘Essendone’ as this phrase has now taken over). Why, you ask? Drugs?
Not this week – despite the fact ASADA has launched their appeal of the not guilty findings – it is purely for the fact that the Club has fast become an embarrassment to the game itself, and copped an 110 point FLOGGING by the St. Kilda Football Club today. Safe to say, it’s time to go Hirdy.
When your own players simply do not want to perform under your coaching anymore, it is only fair to everyone involved that you step aside! You really should have done this 3 years ago! #justsaying

See you next week, Floggers.

- Lady K -

x0x

Lest We Forget

OK, OK, I apologise!
The season is under way and we haven’t had one flog. Terrible. But due to family illness, I was unable to spend my time scouring the field for an appropriate candidate.
However, we are back, the season is in full swing, and my boys in Black & White are quietly sitting pretty in third place on the ladder. That’s right, third.
Hawks are seventh.
Essendon 11^th and Geelong 16^th *stifles laughter*  I know we are only four games in, but I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts!

The past weekend was a memorable and highly important one. Not because Collingwood won and Hawks, Geelong, Essendon and Adelaide lost, but because we commemorated 100 years of the Anzacs. 

For those of you in countries far, Anzac Day is the day we fall silent and honour those who gave their tomorrow for our today.

From a population of fewer than five million, 417,000 men enlisted to serve their patriotic duty. Sadly, by the end of the war, 60,000 of these brave Australians had been killed and 156,000 of them wounded, gassed or taken prisoner. Among these brave men were around 1,300 Indigenous Australians and more than 3,000 nurses volunteered to support the troops, from both near and abroad.

Three years after the storming of Gallipoli, hundreds of thousands of diggers joined the fight against the Germans on the Western Front. This time, it was at Villers-Bretonneux in France – a place I have been lucky enough to experience firsthand at the age of 15. It is a place where the Australian spirit is overwhelming to say the least. It is also a very sad sight - to see the monument walls engraved with thousands of names of the fallen, not to mention the countless nameless graves bearing a single poppy on each. Nonetheless, it is a proud place for Australians alike, as our two Australian brigades (supported by British troops) played a pivotal role in recapturing Villers-Bretonnneux, which on the morning of 24 April 1918, had fallen to the Germans. The brave Anzacs launched their attack shortly after nightfall, and battled long into the night. But it wasn’t until dawn of April 25^th, 1918 that victory prevailed - the town of Villers-Bretonneux was in Australian hands.  Sadly, the victory came at a high price – some 2,400 were killed, wounded or missing.

During my time at Villers-Bretonneux, we visited a primary school which has been built and funded by Victorian school students. It is known as the Villers-Bretonneux Victoria Primary School. Within the school playground hangs an enormous sign that reads ‘Do Not Forget Australia’, and a museum has also been placed within the grounds in memoriam of all the Australian troops who faught during World War 1. Like a fish to water, I bonded with these gorgeous kids immediately. Their excitement to meet Australian people was beyond belief, and their recognition of Australian efforts from such a young age was incredible. We even were treated to renditions of ‘Advance Australia Fair’ and ‘Waltzing Matilda’. It was a truly heart-warming experience that I will hold dear for the rest of my days.

For the past 20 years, it has been tradition for the Collingwood Football Club and the Essendon Football Club to commemorate the Anzac spirit with a game of Footy at the MCG. Many of those troops went on to play for either of these Clubs, and it is a day in which we honour their memory and acknowledge their fighting spirit. It’s safe to say, the Anzac Day clash is my favourite game of the year, followed closely behind by the Grand Final. In the last 10 years alone, Essendon have only beaten my boys three times. Collingwood leads the tally at 12 wins, 8 losses in total and only one match – the very first Anzac clash on April 25^th, 1995 – was a draw.

My favourite part of the day (apart from the obvious win) actually has nothing to do with the game itself. It is the atmosphere, the meaning and the overwhelming pride that comes from the pre-game proceedings. The Last Post is a hauntingly beautiful tribute to the fallen, and the eerie and outstanding silence of a stadium full of more than 90,000 spectators is simply incredible. My heart feels every note of the bugle during this time, and the words of ‘The Ode’ resonate throughout.
“Lest We Forget” holds more meaning than the game itself – and I say the words out loud along with my Magpie Army comrades, looking to the sky and thinking of those above. The final verse of the Australian National Anthem rings out through the stadium, and without fail, the excitement sets in. The one moment I love the most from the entire day is the roar of the crowd at the conclusion of our Nation’s anthem. The collective spirit of the crowd, teamed with the spirit of The Anzacs and the recognition of those still on active service, is electric.
These are the moments I live for.

So you’re probably wondering where this is all going, and how this ties in with a ‘Flog of the Week’.
Well, in a way, it does. This week’s Flog of the Week went to battle in a very, very wrong way.
Given my commentary across Facebook after this Flog’s incident, I noticed this post will more than likely spark some controversy amongst Football fans. Might I remind all of you, that these opinions are purely my own, purely for entertainment factor, and I don’t actually care if you agree or disagree.

Although I have absolutely NO time for drunken idiots in or outside of a Football Field, (although I’m sure I’ve been one on several occasions… haven’t we all?) and I have no time for those trying to get 15 minutes of fame for a cheap and nasty dollar, I also have no time for physical violence. Especially when those dealing out the physical violence are in the public eye, are well aware they are in the public eye, and also serve as a role model and example to young and old.

On Saturday night, the reigning Premiers (Hawthorn) went down to the Port Adelaide Power in what was initially, an extreme overhaul of the Hawks in both skill and scoreboard. 58 points down, the Hawks managed to claw back within 8 points of the Power, however their dignity was shot and at the final siren, the odds were not in their favour. Walking back to his Hotel shortly before midnight, Hawthorn coach Alastair Clarkson was approached by some heavily intoxicated Power fans, armed with a camera phone and some taunting words of “how was the win, mate, how was the win today brother?”. To this, Clarkson gives a shove in the chest to the excited Power fan. The fan, clearly on a high from beating the reigning Premiers, then shouts “GO THE POWERRRRRRRRRRR!” whilst looking down his own phone screen. All of a sudden, Clarkson lashes out and delivers a rough blow with his fist into the unassuming fan’s face. Take a look at the footage here:
Alastair Clarkson gets mad

I’m sorry for all of you that don’t agree, but that shit is simply unacceptable. For a man in his position, a man who is consistently in the public eye, and a man who must lead by example not only for his team members, but for the fans and even children that idolise him, he should not have laid a single hand on this fan.

Yes, the fan may have been a little too in-his-face about the loss.
Yes, there should have been a higher level of security offered for Clarkson given his status.
But no, I’m (not) sorry Clarko, that you have copped the backlash by some for your actions. You deserve it. We have all been aware that you have a less than desirable temper after your punching a hole through the coaching box wall some time ago, however it doesn’t excuse putting your hands on a fan who, by the looks of it, had had a few drinks and wanted to have a little fun. My assumption is he was probably filming the interaction with Clarkson for his Snapchat buddies – who wouldn’t?
Clarkson’s overreaction is simply stupid. I would have understood if the fan had made a sexist, racist or homophobic comment (although I still would not have accepted physical violence) however the fan was simply basking in his Club’s victory, which I don’t see any problem with. Besides, Hawthorn have had enough time to bask in their own whatever, and quite frankly it’s nice to see them slipping down the ladder and giving someone else a chance for a change!

If I got pissed off and started punching out every single person that gave me grief for being a Collingwood supporter (which I assure you occurs on a DAILY basis), I would never be able to leave my house! It all comes down to taking things with a grain of salt. I used to let everything people said about Collingwood bother me. Now it is simply water off a duck’s back. Even on Facebook, some of the commentary I make to my nearest and dearest is purely for the entertainment factor. I don’t think some of them realise I don’t actually care what they say about my boys. At the end of the day, I will always love my team, no matter what. I wouldn’t have their name tattooed on my own skin if I was a mediocre fan. My passion is MY passion. Not anyone else’s. Nobody can take that from me, just like I couldn’t take it from an Essendon supporter when everyone realised what a shocking disgrace they became in the eyes of the Australian Football League. Alastair Clarkson should have known better. He should accept defeat, accept the consequences of his actions and accept the fact that this is Australia – we love giving people shit! It’s our way of life, our expression of affection, and it is our jovial nature. Why would you get your panties in such a bunch over a few seconds of torment? It’s not like you lost the Grand Final, Clarko. It’s Round 4 for God’s sake. Suck it up, I say.

And so, this is how we have selected Alastair Clarkson as ‘Flog Of The Week’ and tied it in with the fighting spirit of the Anzacs.
Leave the fighting to those still on active service and simply just don’t be a flog, Clarko.

Alastair Clarkson getting vocal with his boys

As we honour the memory of the fallen, our thoughts and prayers go out to those still on active service.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun,
And in the morning,
We will remember them.

LEST WE FORGET.

The Anzac Day 2015 banner at the MCG

Until next week, floggers!

-Lady K- 

    x0x

*I would also like to send thoughts and prayers to all those affected by the devastating Nepal Earthquake, which has claimed more than 3,000 lives.

... 'T I S T H E S E A S O N ...

You know how some people become insanely enthusiastic when they hear you just landed a huge promotion at work, or that their best friend is getting married, or when someone is expecting a baby? They jump around like idiots and yell and cheer and some, like myself, even cry.

Well, that happened to me yesterday morning. Not because I got promoted. Not because someone I know is getting married. And not because I'm pregnant (I'm not, mum, relax).

I'll give you one good guess why....

If you said "because you're an idiot", you're kind of right, but not today. Sorry. Move along.

If you said "because the Footy season starts tonight", I applaud you.

That's right people... FOOTY'S BACK!!!!!!!!!!! F*ck Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *fist pumps*

And although we have started the season off in true controversial style, I am still foaming at the mouth at the thought of five glorious months of AFL football ahead.

Sadly, however, the controversy I am referring to not only includes the Essendon Football Club (yes, that's right, they're STILL making headlines), but it also includes two of my beloved boys in Black & White.

On March 31st, the Essendon Football Club were found NOT GUILTY of using a banned substance, making an absolute circus out of the fact we have had to listen to this shit for the last three years. Not to mention the fact I simply cannot wrap my brain around the fact that their players SELF-REPORTED, even their Captain fronted the media in tears admitting he had been injected with something, and the jury agreed the 34 past and present players involved had been injected with a banned substance, but were unanimous in their findings that the players didn't know what it was at the time.

I CALL BULLSHIT.

I'm not just saying this because I don't follow the Club. I am truly of the belief an insane injustice has occurred in this instance and that the AFL has plowed further into a deep crevice of disrepute. I hate the fact that the "worst case in AFL history" came to such a pathetic end. Why would Kyle Reimers have said ANYTHING in the first place if these players hadn't been injecting banned substances? For fun? Because he hated his own Club? I don't think so. 

I, and I'm sure many others, are just hanging onto the hope that ASADA will indeed launch their appeal against the Essendon Football Club and the correct punishment for the Club will be dealt. It BAFFLES me how someone as talented as Ben Cousins could have copped a one year ban from playing AFL for having an ice addiction, and Ahmed Saad from St. Kilda received an 18 month ban for having been nabbed with a banned substance from an energy drink in his body, and now Collingwood's Lachie Keeffe and Josh Thomas are possibly facing a 4 year suspension and sacking from the Pies for testing positive to Clenbuterol while on training camp in February this year, yet 34 self-reporting players from one Club are found not guilty and are free to play on. Even Ryan Crowley has not been allowed to play since September 2014 due to his positive results on a banned substance which he had obtained without the Fremantle Football Club's knowledge.

I do not condone the use of drugs in sport, and I am just as shocked at the findings at the Collingwood Football Club, however I do support fair and just consequences for all.

If 34 players can get away with a banned substance and are free to play on, surely two young, talented kids who have obviously either made a terrible mistake or have been struck down by pure bad luck, should be able to play on too.

It's going to be another exciting and controversial season, floggers.

I feel a great year coming on!

Watch this space.....

Flogs, Ahoy! 

-Lady K- 

    x0x

Little Winners

Yesterday, I witnessed greatness. I shouted and screamed and celebrated with a team I knew very little about. I sported colours not of my own team. I basked in the glory of Grand Final victory.

That's right, the Oak Park Under 12s produced a stunning 63 to 15 defeat of Strathmore FC.

So you're probably wondering why I drove all the way to Keilor to be a part of this epic win?
And no, it wasn't because I spent the previous night sitting alone in the freezing cold at the MCG, watching my beloved Magpies being ripped apart by the Lions. I was sporting the blue & white because my baby brother plays for the mighty Oakers. "Spaz" as he is lovingly nicknamed by his team (due to the fact our surname is Santuccione, not because he is actually a spaz) is famous for his goal kicking abilities, and had begged me to come along and see his team play. So, not wanting to win the award for the world's worst sister, and having missed the entire season due to the fact we simply live far apart, I couldn't let the little man down.

Spazzaccione & I - Pre-game

From the moment I arrived at Keilor Park Reserve, I was immediately as excited as I was before the first bounce at a Pies game. I made my way over to Mum, who was anxiously sitting on the sidelines. Hoardes of families, kids, parents and some extremely pushy parents, surrounded us. A little beanie-clad girl no older than two sat to our left, and her enthusiasm for the game made me wonder if I had been the same at her age. Then she booed the umpire for making a bad call. Definitely.

The Oakers started strong. Big Will down in the goal square absolutely dominated.
Mark and goal. Mark and goal. Mark and goal. Mark and goal. For an 11-year-old, I couldn't believe his strength and ability to gain control of the ball, not to mention his "straight through the sticks" kicking style. We needed him at the Pies!

The ambush continued well into the second quarter, with Strathmore giving it their best crack but sadly couldn't stop the Oak Park juggernaut. As I sat there watching mothers cheer, fathers give coaching orders and kids throw tantrums because they weren't allowed to have a hot dog, I couldn't help but imagine what kind of "Footy Mum" I would make.
Would I be pushy? Would I be too shy to say anything? Or would I be one of those mums who picks the lamest possible nickname for my kid and yell it across the field at my little fuzzy wuzzy baby bear? It made me think deeper into just how important this magical game of Aussie Rules can be to a family and the effects playing the game can have on kids of such a young age.

I joined in on the 3/4 time huddle, and listened intently as the Coach encouraged the boys and commended their individual efforts. Spaz got orders to get out there and boot some goals, with which he promised his team mates he would deliver. 

By the time the fourth quarter had started, it was apparent that Oak Park had the game all stitched up. Spaz had delivered on his promise and booted two goals, and the boys didn't even look tired. What shocked me the most however, was the fact that as a young Strathmorian slotted a much needed goal, several of the Oakers applauded the boy's efforts. There was no booing. No nasty exchanges. No nudges or shoves. It was a civil, respectful game. The players of opposition teams were encouraging each other, despite the fact this was the game that needed to be won. It was adorable and admirable all in one.

The final siren rang out and the field erupted. We all ran onto the ground to celebrate.
The Oakers jumped and ran and hugged and screamed. Immediately, the winning Captain shouted "three cheers for Strathmore!" and I think my heart melted in an instant.  The boys lined up to shake the hands and congratulate their gutted opponents, and again I was drawn back to the thoughts of how noble and respectful these two teams had been of each other. It was as if it didn't matter that one team had dominated and the other had lucked out, they were all comrades and they had just survived a war together. If only all of our modern day AFL players had the same stance when it came to playing the game. When did it stop being fun and start being war?

Oak Park Under 12s PREMIERS 2014 - Congratulations kids!!!

Back at the Club rooms, the party continued well into the afternoon. The Oakers were hyped up on Pizza, Fish n Chips, Fizzy drinks and winning. It was the most fun I could have had with a bunch of 11 and 12 year olds, not to mention the fact they weren't shy in inducting me into their boys club! I believe one of the boys was hoping I would be attending the same High School as he would next year. He looked a little deflated when I mentioned I'd finished High School ten years ago! The camaraderie of these boys and the acceptance of each other no matter what size, shape or ability they had was simply beautiful, and completely uncommon in today's age. It really demonstrates how a Club and serious sporting types can be embraced, nurtured and shaped into respectful characters both on and off the field. It made me so proud to know my own brother was a part of this. 

Chris & Aidan - "brothers" / winners

And so, I congratulate the Oak Park Under 12s and the Strathmore Under 12s for their fantastic Football efforts on Sunday. Being Premiers and participating at a Grand Final is something not everyone will experience and I'm sure the experience will live with them forever. I must also apologise for my lack of flogging last week - I have been extremely unwell and could only get myself back on the web today.

To catch up, my pick for Flog Of The Week for the previous week is Carlton's Mitch (Floginson) Robinson, for lying to his own club about being involved in a brawl outside a bar and persisting with his lie until he had been caught out. When will players learn that everything they do is in the spotlight?!? You're never alone! I also induct him as Flog Of The Week due to the fact this isn't the first time he has told a story that wasn't true... is it Mitch???? This was enough of a Flog act to translate into this week, and therefore I will be back with the F.O.T.W. next week.
 

A very deserving Flog Of The Week(s) - Carlton's Mitch Robinson

Until next time,

-Lady K- 

    x0x
 

Cheap Shot

I'll admit, there are times when I would like to leap over the fence at the Football and introduce my palm to someone's face. There are other times I'd like to turn around and do the same to an opposition's fan. But I can't. And I won't...for two simple reasons;
1) I'm a total wuss and
2) Violence has no place in Football (or pretty much anywhere for that matter).

But history dictates otherwise in the world of AFL. And more recently, from within the Richmond Football Club. This weekend's match against Greater Western Sydney will more than likely result in another Tigers man on the sidelines for a few weeks, after an extremely cheap shot was taken by Richmond midfielder Reece Conca against GWS Giant Devon Smith. 

Now that he has some time on his hands, perhaps Tyrone Vickery can get a damn hair cut!

This pathetic and foolish act ices the cake on an embarrassing week for the Tigers, with forward Tyrone Vickery sidelined for four weeks for an unnecessary strike on West Coast great Dean Cox a week before. Watching the footage of each attack indicates that there may be an epic brain fade happening down in the Tiger den, with players obviously not remembering that whatever they do is documented on just about every media platform one can get their hands on. Not to mention the fact that if their own stupidity prevails, they're more than likely to receive a hefty fine or even a few weeks on the bench, as well as put a target on their back. It is embarrassing to a Club, to its dedicated fans and to the code itself when players indulge in callous acts that have little to do with the game itself.

I have watched the footage of Conca's attack on Smith several times now, and I can't count the amount of times I said "who does that?". For those of you who have not seen the incident, Conca was coming off the ground to the bench after a brief scuffle with Smith, which saw Conca's jumper tangled over his head. There was not much in it. A standard wrestling match between players who had perhaps mouthed off at one another during play. Nothing to get your shorts in a strop over. Surrounded by two umpires and with the cameras firmly fixated on him, Conca ran up behind an unaware Smith, and struck him hard across the back of the head. Smith fell to his knees as Conca threw his arms to his sides as if to say "what did I do?". Commentators of the game were rife with confusion and astonishment at Conca's cheap shot, immediately saying he will be reported for his stupidity. When Reece was asked if he would like to issue an apology to Smith, he reluctantly offered up a very heartless "sorry mate... there you go".
Really? That's it? I'd say it was a dog act, but dogs are loyal. 

Reece Conca takes a very cheap shot on GWS' Devon Smith on Saturday

So what does it say about a Footy player? Clearly they are aware of the ramifications that come with committing such an act, and clearly they are aware that they are being watched by thousands of people across the globe. We have seen so many incidents over time in our great game that have sometimes even resulted in a change of the rules. The game seems as though it isn't as "tough" as it used to be. There's not much of a chance we will see an all-in brawl like the days of old, 'the bump' is no longer just a dance from the 70's and it comes with consequences, and if you make any contact above the chest, well... you're almost certain to give away a free kick.

It really makes you wonder whether or not some of these players truly understand that playing Football is a privilege, not a right. Whether or not they grasp the concept of fair play and if they don't, then why not? What does it say about the education of players from a fair and just level, and not a 'play to win, do whatever it takes' kind of level? When a player from a team you love makes a mistake but is able to take responsibility or you can clearly see it was an error in judgement, it's okay - we can usually deal with this and all is forgotten. But when a player engages in an act that makes you embarrassed or disappoints you, anyone and everyone will chime in and usually you end up the target for an unwarranted Facebook attack or rant at their expense. I know I give it to a lot of my supporter friends when their players do idiotic things on the field, but I also am more than happy to have a rant about my own team, should they do something to embarrass me as a supporter (and trust me, there has been plenty).

Chris Judd and his chicken wing, Big Bad Barry Hall and his fist of fury, Hayden Ballantyne and his little man complex, Jarryd Brennan's headbutting antics and Mitch Robinson's well.. Mitch Floginson in general. And let's of course not forget the nine match ban on former St. Kilda player Steven Baker for repeated offences against Geelong's Steve Johnson (Baker was later banned from playing Football for life after just one match for Mornington Peninsula after his prominent AFL career had ended) are just a few of the incidents that have seen the game brought into disrepute for unnecessary and sometimes extremely dangerous conduct on the field. These are the types of incidents that are ruining our game. Not only for other players and Clubs, but for the fans too. And I think this is something that needs a little more attention across the board, to ensure that these types of behaviours don't continue on the field. Should we impose harsher penalties on players for behind-play misconduct? Are we too harsh as it is? Or should we just continue to allow players to do whatever it is they feel they have to to win the ball or the game? Is this really the type of price we want to pay for a win? Where's the merit and pride in that? I know these blokes have talent and skill, so why are so many of them starting to throw this by the wayside?
I don't want to pay to see men embarrassing everyone by trying to rip each other to shreds. If I wanted to see that, I'd watch NRL. 

It will be a sad, sad day in AFL history when our game becomes so void of talented play and so full of gutless wonders. 

And so I present to you this week's FLOG OF THE WEEK:

   

    RICHMOND'S REECE CONCA

This week's FLOG OF THE WEEK has plenty to scratch his noodle about

Coming up on The Flog, I'll get to chatting with Collingwood's Travis Cloke on dealing with the haters, who's the most annoying down at Magpie land and what makes him tick.... 

Flog on, my friends...

- Lady K x0x

Passion of the Krys T...

If I had a dollar for every time I mentioned the word "Collingwood", I'd be a billionaire. It's like word vomit for me. There aren't many people who understand how a 28-year-old female can be so obsessed with a Football Club - but everyone who knows me, knows my passionate love for the mighty "Black & White". But for those of you who don't know me, here's a deeper insight into the passion of the Krys T .... Krystal T. That's me....
 

The day after winning the 2010 Grand Final
Post-match celebrations at Gosch's Paddock

Signed Premiership Guernsey
Best day of my life - 2010

There have only been a few things in my life that have meant so much to me, that are the blood that runs through my veins, but the Collingwood Football Club (or"the  

Collywobbles" as so many of my friends and foes say) became a part of me from a very, very young age. In all honesty, it has probably been the healthiest relationship I have ever been in. Sure, we have had our fair share of ups and downs in the last 28 years, but I have stuck to my gut instinct, my heart and my head (and the excessive pressure from my father) and together, we have prevailed. Just call me "Miss Magpie". 

I can still recall the first game I have a memory of. I was about three years old, and it was the Mighty Pies versus the Saint Kilda Saints at one of my favourite places on Earth - the MCG. My dad, my uncle (sadly, a Saints supporter) and myself were there, and I can even remember the most random of details such as my uncle's red parka and his yellow backpack with a big rainbow on it. I remember sitting in his lap, cheering for the Pies at my dad's cues. I had no idea at the time what I was looking at of course, but that day obviously ignited some sort of spark inside me that would change me forever.

Luke Ball & I

I have such wonderful fond memories of the games (and some I have repressed for life) and of times spent with my dad. Growing up, dad had always been required to travel extensively for work, but our special outings to the games always made up for lost time. We had the same routine every game. Driving in dad's car, pre-game talkback going on and dad offering his own commentary every so often to those on air. I'd plug my discman into my ears - yes, a discman, not an iPod.. no such thing those days! - for the ride and for the long trek to the 'G (dad liked to park as far away as he possibly could). In those days, we wouldn't sit too close to the action, usually surrounded by our fellow MCC members who weren't all that animated during play. But as I got older, I discovered I liked to sit closer to the action, so around the age of 13 dad and I started parting ways outside gate two and would reunite after the game.

Ben Johnson & I
My favourite player for 12 years

At half time I would often get a phone call from him, checking up on me and ensuring I hadn't jumped the fence and run onto the field. The call always began the same way "I see you" he would say, and sure enough I'd turn around and there he would be, up on level 2, waving at me as if we hadn't seen each other in years. 

We'd have a quick review of the match and finish with our stock standard sign-off of "Go Pies!". Sometimes, if the Pies were copping a flogging, he would make me leave the game early. I hated that. It made me feel as if I was betraying my boys by surrendering my support. Dad obviously couldn't                                                                  cope as well with losses as I could at that stage.

Angelica & I - Perth 2012
I love travelling for all interstate games

Preliminary final victory over Geelong
ESPN footage
2010

When I reached 14 years old, I was allowed to bring friends to the games. Hardly any of the girls I was friends with at the time had any interest in footy, but on the odd occasion I could convince one to come along. Now that I think about it, I really needed new friends back then. I ended up meeting a lot of people at the games who I still sit with to this day,  so I gave up bringing people who didn't care and began meeting my new "crew" every week in our standard front row centre spot. This spot is now famous because of us. 

Caught on camera in the audience at The Footy Show

One game set it off and now we are all practically famous. I'm known as the "crazy Collingwood chick" for always getting my face on TV during the games. People will constantly text or call with their commentary as to how many times I've been on their screens. Some of my friends even play drinking games on Anzac Day to the sight of this Miss Magpie's face.  By the time I was 22, I started working in the Sports industry, allowing me to meet a lot of players, media and the corporate AFL crowd.  

Anthony Rocca & I
On field at Etihad 2008

I've since been lucky enough to have formed some great relationships with many amazing players and media icons, who have at one point or another told me "you get more air time than we do!". An absolute crock of shit in my eyes, of course, however I will never forget the day Anthony Rocca pulled me aside in the change rooms at the 'G and said "every time I turn on my bloody TV, Krystal, there you are!". Being such a huge Footy fan and an even bigger Pies fan (I used to crush on Saverio Rocca when I was about 8), that was a huge moment for me. I actually felt famous. 

Embarrassed, but famous. A pretty cool feeling for a 22-year-old nobody. People I have never even met started approaching me at pubs or sending me Facebook messages, all with the same "you go for Collingwood, don't you?" tagline. It got a little creepy at one stage!

Brodie Grundy & I
Eminem Concert  2014

It was then that I realised that no matter how stupid I  may look screaming my lungs out with a possible

Jamie Elliot & I
Post-match 2013

awkward orgasm-type face on National TV, that this place, this sport, this passion for the Club was the one place where I felt 100% comfortable being myself. It is the one place I can go and show every ounce of emotion and not care who thinks what of me. I can love what I love, without hesitation. The more games I started attending, the more my face became known. People overseas would e-mail my dad and say "just seen your daughter on the TV". Dad loved telling me stories of how many of his colleagues would see me on television and get in contact with him. 

Alan Didak's last game

Paul Licuria & I - 2010
Legends Game Afterparty

Dane Swan
Pre-extreme tattoo coverage

My favourite incident he recalled to me happened at a game in 2011. He was in his usual spot on level two. Me - stock standard position on ground level. I was chatting to my friend who happened to be a boundary reporter for the radio. Dad happened to be listening to the same station when Gary Lyon and James Brayshaw were said to remark that their boundary reporter had missed his live cross cue, as he was distracted by a woman in a pink skirt. I was wearing a pink skirt. Dad called me as the story unfolded, and as I watched my friend fumble for words to say to his live audience, I could not contain my laughter. My friend later told me all the boys in the commentary box  had suggested I become the new reporter instead. I don't know who went more red, me or him. It was such a hilarious and enlightening moment for me, considering I had very little self-esteem at the time. 

Mum & I
Post-Grand Final win 2010
In the arena with Lionel Richie & the team

Nowadays, through my contacts and networking, I can access most areas at the MCG and Etihad. I consider myself extremely lucky that my passion met my fantasies and I can overindulge like that in the Football world on a weekly basis. It's what I imagine heaven will be like - that's how much I love this great game. At first I think I only liked it just for the hot boys, I mean, what young girl wouldn't? But as I got older, formed relationships and even dated some of the boys, I realised that it was not about them at all. It was so much more than that. 

Post-Grand Final win 2010 outside the 'G
Far too much excitement & alcohol

I love every aspect of the game itself - the skill, the thrill and the overwhelming excitement that comes with every kick of the ball. In 2013, I was fortunate enough to tick off a long-time bucket list item and discover just how exhilarating on-field atmosphere and what playing in front of a crowd at the 'G feels like. I was selected to play in the Cadbury 9's at half time between Collingwood and Adelaide. I kicked one goal. It was the best 30 minutes of my Football life. 

Post match celebrations - June 15th, 2013
Collingwood vs. Adelaide
Cadbury 9s player

Buckley

Bobby-Rose

Jack
8-6-1998 - 17-5-2011

My niece, Sienna
Grand Final Day 2010

This is what I live for. Those moments when your heart feels as if it's going to beat right out of your chest as someone lines up for goal, the times when you feel so broken because your team has crumbled at the feet of another, the joy that swallows every part of you as you celebrate a gutsy win... that moment when you realise you have just spent 3 and a half hours watching a pack of men go to war and nothing in the world could make you happier. I even named my dogs after players - Bobby-Rose & Buckley... Or that moment you have just walked out of the tattoo parlour freshly inked with your team's name, to be forever worn with pride. Sorry dad, I didn't want you to find out this way! The positive memories of attending the games as a child with my dad and the thought that one day I can share the same joy with children of my own. 

 The infamous tattoo
              Post-game celebration, Sydney 2011

Sure, time may pass, memories may fade, but the passion I have for the Magpies grows stronger every year. I know that no matter what happens in my life, the Club will always be there... ain't nobody can take that away from me. 

And that's as Black & White as it's gonna get for me.

I would like to thank my dad, Chris, for introducing me to the Collingwood Football Club - you only have yourself to blame! And for always taking me to the games as a kid. I am forever indebted to you for this. xxx

Flog on,

Lady K -x0x-