and kicked a goal. 
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Wtf
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Tomorrow? Iâm watching the replay now. As soon as I got home from the game.
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Interesting. It looked very much a pro piesâ crowd, and sounded like it on the TV coverage.
And that was even before BT and Leigh Matthews started banging on about Grundy, Pendles and Moore.
And that they have a young side, because of injuries
To be fair they were also banging on about our youngsters & what a good future theyâll bring.
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Always knew he was. But guess what fark collingwood
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Iâm worse
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I enjoyed reading this on the filth bigfoo*y board. Doesnât an ANZAC day win just feel so good:
How do you go about describing that?
Itâs likeâŚdescribing the Titanic after it hit the ice berg. You could focus on the sheer magnificence of the grand staircase in the first class dining room. Or the exceptional âensembleâ playing of the band as they produce an exceptional rendition of Abide With Me.
Or you could, I dunno, look at the ruddy great hole in the hull and the way it is slipping into the North Atlantic and goâŚfu** me, weâre well and truly fâed.
I choose to start with the former then, because, if we are indeed well and truly fâed (and we are, lets be clear. In the dictionary next to the word âfâedâ is a picture of us. Go on, check. Iâm not exaggerating) we might as well take what enjoyment we can. Gather ye rosebuds while ye may I say. Because, Winter is Coming. And as of now, we are the Nightâs watch and a ******* undead dragon being ridden by the lord of the ******* dead has us in its crosshairs.
Murphy looks ok, though he was a bit invisible in the last half, but that is probably better than performing an old time musical hall routine and jazz handing his way through a comic skit all match (take a bow Madgen. How I love ya how I love ya my, dear old Madgeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee).
Beau, is my Beau. Hands off him. I am making a belly button lint sculpture of him as a heroic figure, perhaps David but less naked than Michelangeloâs and somewhat better endowed.
Darcy Cameron. I guess when Darcy Cameron is one of your positives, you know you have stepped into uncharted waters. And these ones do say âhere be dragonsâ so lets embrace it. Darcy you are still my second favourite Darcy but in an optimistic, encouraging way. Like saying something is my second favourite carrot based beverage.
Daicos. Stepping up again, in the absence of any real support. So kind of like levitation, showing he isnt the only one like his dad in the family.
We really should have lost by ten goals, so it could have been worse.
Thats it. I got nothing else.
Now to the big picture.
We are fâed. I mean, really, really fâed. We have no discernable midfield, and Sidey and Pendles are close to the end. We have no actual forwards, just makeshift options cobbled together. We then throw them back, forward, and sideways, to the adagio rustle no doubt of magnets on the great whiteboard of life, taking it in turns to ruin players careers and mental health by stationing them somewhere they are only moderately sh*t at, only to start the merry go round one more time.
Our list is a disgrace. Our youngsters are not ready, and few look to be out and out good, capable roleplayers in time perhaps, but the core of quality is not there. Itâs like Easter, and you have a boxed set of Cadbury and all round the edge is these â â â â â â little egss, I dunno, turkish delight (sorry, ottoman, no offense intended) or something, and you nibble them while looking forward at least to the big, juicy, milk chocolate egg in the middle. You unwrap the foil, and find someone has instead put carob in there by accident. You weep, tears of bitter regret, and then persuade yourself the little turkish delight eggs were kind of nice after all. But you know better. Itâs carob, for the next few years. Thanks Dekker.
So you sit back, unleash a stellar fart, down another can of overpriced but acceptable craft beer, and take stock. Watching us actually play is like having your balls sandpapered. The small glimpses of anything not horrible merely remind you of the memory of sensations other than testicular abrasion, leading to deep regret and nostalgia for a time less fraught with the imminence of groinal distress. You decouple your mind, and alas, heart from the reality of what you see, knowing one day the sun may rise again, but its going to be ******* years and in between we are going to spoon up a treat. And something inside kind of dies, with a last silent fart of regret.
Last thoughts.
C Brown, Madgen, Ruscoe. I have seen enough. Like that last season of Happy Days, itâs just sad now. Please stop. Signed, a well wisher.
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Wonder how they feeling at Optus Oval right now?
But it might just make a dynasty.
I watched the game completely not stressed, by myself today fully sober . Makes a huge difference when you watch a game abd really just watch the game with no other voices
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Beautiful. Like Scott Tennysonâs tears.
truth is we canât have the premiership and a top 5 pick
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When I saw Simon Madden before the game, I knew we were good things!
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Not at all, l didnât eat. 
I was very pleased with 2MP today, he stepped up when needed, competed well and took some great marks. He also did what we knew he could, kick dead straight when needed. Daniher looks at those kicks and weeps, knowing he canât duplicate them.
I also picked Essendon to win in the FLR tips. I was confident of the win today, and told @Mackster at half time we would win.
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Collingwood were shocking by foot especially in the first half, they were very luck to get that 3 goal jump. Had we been just a bit sharper we could have put them to the sword by half time. I really loved how composed we were today. Even the way we played out the last 5 minutes. Very accomplished. Looked like a team that has solid belief in their game to be honest
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More please
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What I love so far this year is we dont give the kids one or two matches, then drop them or rest them. We just keep playing them.
We have wasted so many years on our previous generations when they shouldâve had opportunities like our new kids have.
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