PLUS: Tuohy writes for us
How did I miss that kick? Did I help out enough? So close, but such a crap day
WELL ... that was a hell of a game, wasn’t it?!
If you needed convincing before Round 1 that this was going to be a thrilling season, I suspect you’d be well and truly convinced now.
A missed set-shot with 10 seconds left in Round 1 and the narrowest loss possible in Round 2 has no doubt made for great viewing, but I’m certain these games must be taking years off our supporters’ lives.
Injuries, suspensions, wins, loses and debutants in our first two games should have everybody wondering: what next?
From the players’ point of view, or at least this particular player’s point of view, it seems we’re not as sharp as we’d like, but it needs to be kept in proportion.
Melbourne will beat a lot of teams this year and the Hawks look worryingly like the Hawks of old.
I can’t help but cast my mind back to the final two minutes of the Hawks game and think what I should or could have done differently.
If you take anything from this article, let it be this. We care. These losses hurt the players, we don’t just trudge off the ground, shower and go home as though it was just another day at the office.
It wasn’t just another day at the office, it was a crap day at the office.
We carry that sick feeling around with us for a few days, trying our very best to not let it affect how we train, only to force ourselves to let it go so that we’re not weighed down by it come the following week.
It’s hard not to ask yourself the same few questions over and over.
How did I miss that kick on the far wing?
Did I show the composure I should have shown in that circumstance?
Why wasn’t I there to help Zachy (Guthrie) out in the last contest? It was a young backline, did I show the leadership I should have?
Now I could almost guarantee you had we gone up the other end and scored the winner, I would still ask myself these questions, but they would have likely had a much more rapid and positive response — and I would not think them significant enough to write down now for you to read.
But that’s what a loss does to a player. It eats at you.
It’s easy to dwell on every minor detail of that last two minutes when the margin is so fine.
The truth is there was 118 minutes of football before that and almost no good can come from focusing too much on the final two minutes. Given the result, every player will judge themselves more harshly than usual.
As players, we know just how fortunate we are to play footy for a living. We get to work daily with 40 mates, play in front of big crowds weekly and the potential networking opportunities are endless, opportunities like getting a reg- ular article in the Addy. But we also know all too well that there are some pitfalls.
We are only ever a single skill error away from turning adulation into criticism and sometimes even abuse.
A single skill error can be the difference between being the game-winning hero or that guy who “bottled” it.
That’s a relatively small price to pay to have this job but whenever you feel the urge to take to social media or lean over the fence to vent, please do so with the knowledge that nobody realises their mistakes more than the player who made them.
You can tell us how badly we played or that you reckon we should be dropped or even, as one spectator suggested to me, “Push off back to Scotland”, but just remember these losses hurt the players too.
We’re all in this together.