The Dockers had one hand on the premiership cup. Then came four minutes that turned the grand final
When the bells tolled for Wharfie Time with just over four minutes left in this epic grand final, few, if any, of the 100,023 crammed into the MCG could have imagined what they would see next.
Fremantle’s Patrick Voss, a hero to the purple army, had bolted on the victory run to end all victory runs towards bays of despondent Brisbane Lions fans in the Ponsford Stand after showing nerves of steel to first run down the clock, then convert from 20 metres out.
Up by a game-high 17 points, with the finish line tantalisingly close, the Dockers had never been closer to the premiership in their 11,502 days in the AFL.
What happened after the cacophony bellowing around this famous stadium had reached its climax will be etched into the minds of the millions around the globe who love this game.
For the Fremantle faithful, who came across the Nullarbor and had visions of a hobbled Alex Pearce lifting the cup with Justin Longmuir, they will be memories they may never exorcise.
Of the premierships in Brisbane’s second three-peat, none have forced Chris Fagan’s immortals to show more skill, tenacity and bloody-mindedness. They needed all this – and more than a slice of good fortune – to turn back-to-back flags into a dynasty.
This grand final victory, a wire-to-wire test of character and resilience, played in testing conditions – was a worthy sequel to last week’s nerve-jangling goalfest between Hawthorn and the Lions, dubbed by many to be one of the greatest games played. Both could not be greater advertisements for the sport.
Champions possess an almost mystical capability to win from hopeless positions, but in this case, there is a rational explanation.
The Lions, like all great teams, have different ways to win. Shootouts like last week? We’ll back ourselves to score more. Arm wrestles? We have more midfield muscle.
This was a game that, for all bar the final minutes, was played on Fremantle’s terms. The Dockers dominated at clearance, had the game played for long periods in their forward half but could not land the knockout blow.
Josh Treacy, who missed from a few feet out when all he had to do was toe poke the ball over the goal line rather than blast it into the stands, will have trouble sleeping.
Wharfie Time is supposed to propel the Dockers to another level. Instead, it served as a rally cry for the unshakable Lions, who, nearly to a man, revealed it had been a source of motivation.
Beaten in the clinches all game, the Lions’ midfield gritted their teeth and willed the ball forward with every sinew in their aching bodies.
Sam Draper, recruited to the club for games like this, had been shaded by Luke Jackson but knocked the ball forward to Will Ashcroft, whose perfectly imperfect kick inside 50 gave Charlie Cameron the ideal platform to pounce, turn and curl it through on his right foot.
No sooner had the strains of Take Me Home, Country Roads subsided, the Dockers’ defence was under siege again. This time, Zac Bailey bounced off a tackle from Caleb Serong that had been sticking in the previous two hours, to snap in heavier traffic than peak hour on Punt Road.
Amid the chaos, the Dockers, through a clutch mark to Treacy and another contested-ball win by him at half-forward, composed themselves sufficiently to send the ball forward, but the defensive integrity that has defined their game all year crumbled at the most important moment.
Jarrod Berry found Lachie Neale, who was only playing due to a successful 11th hour appeal, in space. Resoundingly booed by all but the Lions fans for each of his 20 disposals, he landed the ideal kick for Hugh McCluggage to gather and send deep to Logan Morris, who no longer had to contend with Pearce’s strength and wiles.
This is where the footy gods smiled on the Lions, and taunted the Dockers, whose fans will wonder what may have been if Pearce’s Achilles had not given way on the MCC members’ wing early in the third term.
Morris also had little influence against Oscar McDonald, but came up trumps when the stakes were at their highest, out-marking the man who would not have played had Brennan Cox was fit.
The day did not belong to Morris, but he owned the moment. From 45 metres out, he showed temperament beyond his three seasons in the big time to put the Lions in front. So sweetly did he make connection, he launched into celebrations from the moment the ball left his boot.
With 64 seconds left, the Dockers had a final chance to reclaim a game they had led for all but a few minutes since quarter time.
Any one of five Dockers could have gathered possession as the Sherrin ricocheted like a pinball deep in Fremantle’s forward line after Shai Bolton’s clean takeaway, but it was Ryan Lester’s number that won the lotto, sending the ball out of danger.
As the ball pinged around again on the wing, it was the Lions who got what they wanted; first a boundary throw-in, then a clearance and regather from Will Ashcroft, who, as he did last week, scythed his way forward to set up the clinching goal.
As far as grand final losses, few could be as cruel as the fate which befell the Dockers. A shattered Justin Longmuir had his head in his hands. Karl Worner played out the remaining seconds with tears blurring his vision.
A surprise Norm Smith winner with only 58 per cent efficiency from his 26 disposals, Bolton’s medal stayed on his neck not much longer than Nathan Buckley’s 24 years ago in the opening act of the Lions’ first three-peat.
When the siren rang, the 18 Dockers on the field collapsed to the turf almost simultaneously, stunned how the cup they had one hand on – plus several fingers on the other – had been ripped away from them. No position in a game will ever feel unassailable again.
In September, Fagan’s Lions do not die. In each of their premierships, they have taken the long way home. Only once has a club won four flags in a row. If a club stops them next year, they will have to go the distance.
Keep up to date with the best AFL coverage in the country. Sign up for the Real Footy newsletter.
More:
KioskNews shows a cleaned-up reading view extracted from the publisher’s page — the original always lives on their site, not ours.