SURPRISE, SURPRISE

We miss it already, this great endeavour that both divides and unites us, but even kings wearing shiny new crowns require their rest.  
The VAFA’s coronation weekend attracted bumper crowds. The jumping castle was back, so too the multiple burger bars and the entourage of young women in oversized sunglasses. On the balcony, men in ties smiled and the sun did too. Too bad about the gate-crashing wind gods, who not only refused to pay at the gate, but have finally claimed native title on this pretty patch.  
Still, we decide the issue each week in the elements. Why should we, who all year eschew the theatre-going comfort of the professional circuit to stand in the wind and rain and the mud be granted comfort in September?
Indeed, this month has provided little comfort to the afflicted. Headquarters hosted all four finals in both A and B Sections and claimed its usual six victims. In their own way, each of these exiting teams did so with a modicum of surprise.
In B Section, Old Haileybury must have fancied their chances in the first semi, but went down. Similarly St Bernard’s in the preliminary final. When Old Essendon trampled St Kevin’s in Saturday’s appetizer, it appeared that the keg houses of East Keilor might be in for a big night’s trade. The Blue Bombers came out and again looked big and strong. From the outset, they powered forward but could not find the goals at the Glenhuntly Road end. At the four minute-mark, there was a sea-change. It was if Marcellin had summed up its opposition and decided that if the Grammarians wouldn’t take their opportunities, then they would. They slammed on two goals immediately.  
Underdogs always draw great support and the Eagles’ promising start gave the crowd reason to believe that this might be a special afternoon. I’m not sure that Marcellin had ever believed otherwise. It took a narrow lead to the first break and there was no faux exuberance at the huddle, simply a recommitment to the team plan. 
Its second quarter was outstanding but gave the Bulleen boys little to hang their hats on. Over party pies and teabags at the half, the majority view from football’s cognoscenti was that the minor premier was still favourite.
This was logical given the relative performance of the teams during the season. Old Essendon was 16-2 and Marcellin 12-6. But that’s why they call the finals the second season. If the Eagles had failed to put away their opponent in the second, they did so after the break, sealing the deal with a splendid third stanza.
The Blue Bombers tried hard in the last, but the gap was too great. The Eagles, under Murray Browne, popular premiers. Old Essendon, promoted, but again without a premiership, must be wondering how it all came apart at the end.
In A Section, the September upsets came thick and fast too. Perhaps not too many were surprised when Xavs booted Scotch, but the Cardinals were given their six goal lead with fifteen minutes remaining. Such a comeback saw a plunge on the Xavs, but they were beaten by a slick Collegians in the preliminary.
Could the Collegians do it again? Could they reverse their second-semi performance and win the flag. I was certainly among the punters and experts that installed them as favourites, figuring that the Purples might cope better with the wind.
Luke Beveridge figured differently. In the rooms, he instructed his skipper to kick into the six goal howler should he win the coin flip.  
Sutcliffe and Davidson appeared in white, looking like Simpson and Lawry striding to the crease, reassuring us all that all was under control. The big crowd buzzed as the combatants took the field, and not privy to the Tiger tactics, awaited the toss with some anguish.  
So the goal gypsies migrated to the end of their favoured team and the siren sounded. The major debate on the hill was over the number of goals that the Lions would need to make it safe. Opinions varied, but no-one mentioned zero. 
Dazed and confused, Collegians went backwards and sideways, short and shorter as if kicking into the wind. At one stage, there was an appreciable migration of spectators to the back pocket and one wag noted that they had been bound for the scoreboard goals but stopped where they could view the Lions’ action up close. For the quarter, just one goal, and it went to the Beders. The purple throng changed ends, faces burned by the wind and their hearts already torn out. 
St Bede’s were ready for the kill but didn’t quite nail it in the second. Despite their dominance, their return of six goals was not quite enough to slam the door just yet. A ten goal quarter third stanza from Collegians would give them a shot. 
Indeed, that seemed to be the message, but with big Watts hobbling and being beaten from pillar to post by every Tiger who went near him, it was a big job. Too big.  They had fifteen shots but kicked just two goals. They might have had seven or eight if luck had been with them, but that Lady was already headed to Mentone for the celebration. 
Had it held the Tigers scoreless in the last, Collegians might have won. Their last quarter yielded three goals into the gale but the Beders peppered the goals again. Hit or miss, it didn’t really matter. It was over. It had been since half-way through the opening quarter, when the Lions reverted to a timid series of checker movements. Their boldness, their directness, which had won the game for them against the Xaverians just a week ago, had evaporated totally. League leaders for almost the entire season, their season ended in a heap. 
Such criticism is not to detract from the performance of the premiers. The Combine showed early in the year that it belonged in A Section. By mid-year the Tiges were almost certain finalists. They never quite achieved favouritism for the flag, but they won it nonetheless and will hold that status for the next six months at least.  
This columnist has been repeatedly excoriated by their faithful over the last month for referring to them in nomenclature other than the formal St Bede’s Mentone Tigers. It is to be hoped that it should satisfy even them if I refer to them now simply as the premiers.   
They were worthy winners. All year they played together, ran in packs and supported each other. When it was all on the line, they stayed true to the plan and to themselves. They have won C, B and A Sections in consecutive years (under the same coach and captain) a remarkable feat unlikely to be performed again by any club. Hail to the victors. 
The views expressed above are not necessarily those of the VAFA.
Max McGraw can be reached at [email protected]