Given that I stopped writing for my blog once VCE really started to get serious, ironically I write this heavily in retrospect given that the 2023 AFL Finals are almost at its conclusion. 

When I wrote just my second piece for this blog at the start of 2022, I essentially said that 2022 would be our last chance for premiership success. In hindsight, given the season we had this year, I’d say I was just about spot on. 

2022 was just our year. Winning games, which in the past we absolutely would have lost. The Richmond game towards the latter stages of the season is the notable one. After conceding five goals to one in the 3rd quarter, and relinquishing our half time lead, it seemed as though it would be typical Geelong all over again. Richmond kicked the first two of the last quarter and with roughly 15 minutes to go, trailing by 17 points, it felt like we had been well and truly overrun. 

But as we did so well in 2022, we never gave up, kicking the next 21 points to take the lead, before conceding again. Once again, I thought “bugger, we’re done,” but in steps Jack Henry. Jack kicked the winning goal with a minute to go and it was pandemonium at the Geelong end of the ground where Dad and I were standing. I can guarantee that in all previous seasons since 2011, we would have lost that game. It was set up for us to win. 

Sixteen straight wins eventually got us to our 10th premiership. An incredible run. I knew it was ours after the Qualifying Final against Collingwood. 

Arriving at the ground, my feeling going in was that whoever won that game would go on to win the whole thing. This time, Dad was replaced with my girlfriend at the time, who I had managed to pretty much fully convert into a fully fledged footy fan. My efforts to persuade her to support Geelong were short lived as her family’s roots tied her back to the Pies. So we went together and for the first time, we went to a game together. 

I only really mention this because I shamelessly went nuts for most of the game and despite being slightly subconscious of how I was to be perceived by her, my actions certainly did not speak to that. Screaming at the top of my lungs and jumping up and down – even hugging a completely random Geelong fan when we kicked the winning goal. 

We stood at the Geelong end of the ground again, but were surrounded by more black and white than blue and white. As I said, I was certainly shameless in my support – a true diehard, unafraid of any potential fist-fights that could have arisen given the opposition fans’ reputation. 

It honestly, may have been the best game (other than the Grand Final) that I have ever witnessed in person. The highs and lows drew everyone, no matter who they supported, into every second of the contest. Again, we found ourselves a couple of goals down towards the end of the game. And again, backs against the wall, we prevailed in the last minute with a massive rush of adrenaline pulsing through my body as we went end-to-end to kick the last goal. 

The sweet taste of victory against Collingwood in a massive final – fair to say there’s not a lot better. 

After the week off, we moved to the prelim against Brisbane. A Brisbane team who had beaten Melbourne at the G the week prior, despite everyone, myself included not giving them a chance outside of Queensland. 

We breezed past the Lions and it only really hit me as Dad and I were walking to the station from the ground. I remember saying to Dad “we’re in the Grand Final!!” I couldn’t believe that it was as easy as it was. The following day would be the day where we found out our opponents for the last Saturday in September. 

Collingwood or Sydney – who would it be? I wanted it to be Sydney and I wanted it to be a close game. Watching at my ex-girlfriend’s house, with her brother and mum, both also passionate Pies, it was a poor start for the Pies. But like they’d done so many times, they fought back when everyone thought it was impossible. They clawed it back to two points with a few minutes to go and I was praying for the Swans to hold on, and hold on they did. 

It was the perfect result. After our borderline training session the night before, Sydney had essentially played their Grand Final, whilst we had our feet up, reclined in our chairs. 

If there was one positive thing about COVID, it was that at the start of 2022, Geelong rewarded those of us who hung around as members during the lockdowns with free ‘premiership add-ons’. This would typically cost $200 and is placed on top of your membership. It guarantees you a seat at the Grand Final if the team makes it. I was going to be in attendance at the 2022 AFL Grand Final. 

Somehow, Dad also managed a ticket, which we gave to the mate of mine who actually got me supporting Geelong back in 2010, Sam. He was almost up the back and I was right behind the goals on level one. It was the perfect day. The weather was superb, Robbie Williams performed pre-game and was one of the best pre-game acts the AFL had seen in years. 

From the first bounce, you could tell how much we wanted it. Eleven years of being branded as ‘too old, too slow’ had built up to this moment. We had a blistering start and at half time led by six goals. 

The general feel amongst the crowd and those around me was that we simply had to start with the same intent in the second half. Too many times in previous finals, us fans would see a brilliant first half, followed up by a heart-crushing lacklustre second half performance. 

I knew we had it from the first goal of the second half, but I was still too afraid to say it out loud. Six goals to zero in the third quarter and the fourth quarter was practically a 30-minute party. Everyone got in on the act. I kept saying to the woman next to me, I don’t care who gets the goals anymore, as long as Joel Selwood gets one. 

The captain who had taken us through all the prelim losses got his crowning moment. At the time, he was yet to announce his retirement, typifying his character in not wanting to overshadow the team’s story. I selfishly wish he kicked it at our end of the ground, but I think a premiership win will suffice. 

It was such a great day and we finally proved the critics wrong. At last the Cats proved to be “too old, too slow, and too bloody good”. 

A day I won’t ever forget and an absolute privilege for me to be there as well as at the other two finals. I didn’t just see one – I saw all three. I can die a happy man now knowing that I was there in person to witness Geelong lift their 10th premiership cup. 

Photography credit: Michael Wilson