Delist, dissuade and disabled.

As a semi-dedicated recently shame-induced Blues supporter I remember a time when our staff and list management decisions were not the most publicised and interesting part of our fair football team.
A time when Carlton didn't attempt to simply papier mâché over the in many case large holes in the load-bearing walls and foundational stones of this club.

Not this "Man". (Not pictured: Pants)

This man is one of them...
Wait a second, let me fix that...

Buffering...

 

This man.

(After testing Mars' latest creation)

Matt Kreuzer may not be the most vocal of leaders, fit into the blueprint of where the modern the game is headed, remain consistently healthy or--Oh god, I'm talking myself out of this already.

Actually, lets do it this way. I'm going to throw up some scenarios try and prosecute a few potential arguments and you, the all important reader, can tell me when to stop.

Jacob Weitering. 194cms, 95kgs.

 

 

Pros:

• Already being talked about as potentially the next defender of his generation before even playing a game.
• Comfortably slots straight into almost any side at AFL level.
• Elite intercept mark and kick.
• Strong one-on-one in a contest.
• Potential future leader.
• High endurance.
• Consistent and professional.
• A recruiter's wet dream.
• SOS sees a lot of himself in him, and rightly so.
• Has exceled against essentially VFL level opponents already, (Majak Daw and Watson)
• Has a ready to go nickname "Weits".
• Looks a little bit like Jarrad Waite.
• Cons:Followed Melbourne as a kid.

• Already spent time at Brisbane's Academy.
• Looks a little bit like Jarrad Waite.

Josh Schade 199cm, 96kgs

• Pros:
• Larke Medalist for best player at under 18 championships.
• Most goals kicked ever in the same U-18 championships (24).
• Currently 34 goals for the year for Murray Bushrangers in the TAC cup.
• Can pinch-hit in the ruck.
• Extremely accurate set kick for goal.
• Very good Mark on a lead and overhead.
• Father played at the highest level. 
• Runs a 14 beep test.
• Has some good nickname potentional- "The Shack".

Cons: As Pictured

• Models his game on him and Travis Cloke.
• Has yet to show he can star against higher level opposition.

Kruezer

• Pros:
• After 8 odd years at the club I've finally figured out how to spell his last name correctly 100% of the time.
• When on his game and fit he's noticeably emerging into one of the league's best ruckmen.
• Combination with Cripps looking imposingly good.
• Former no.1 pick.
• Proven quantity.
• Fan favourite/The ability to shout KRRRUUUUUUUZ! 
• Miles ahead of any other ruckman we have. 

• Cons:
• Losing another high level talent that comes back to bite us in the arse. 
• Injury history
• Third 1st choice ruckman to leave in as many years.
• The potential for another albatross contract (if injured) (along side Dale Thomas).
• His instagram account
• Virtual mute
• Trent Cotchin was a best man at his wedding.
• Don't mention the acne.
• That TAC ad he did with Sam Mitchell and Gary Ablett Jr. God that was awful.

This has basically consumed my life ever since The Lions somehow farcically managed to hand Carlton their #1 pick in what some (most) might call the most redundant win for a very long time in Brisbane's final game of the season.
Although Brisbane did get Mitch Robinson from Carlton last year, so I'm saying we are all square. Deal? All square? Deal. Good. What? Fevola!? No that was ages ago...Don't bring that up.
What's that? You guys want a straight swap of Tom Bell for James Aish as well?
Hmm, let me think about that for another time. Maybe.

Anyway. All this depends on perspective.
For me, as things currently stand this all depends on if Bolton or SOS see enough in Schade.
Personally, I'd take Kruz + the no.1 pick over pick 1 & 2. and a year of having to watch Cameron Wood,Warnock or some unknown American ruckmen we've just signed attempt to be our ruckmen for an entire year.  That's simply an aesthetic choice.

Take from this what you will.

If a blog falls in the forest does it still make a post?

Judging by the current layout, (which for the record I've forgotten how to change) a distinct lack of output nonsensical or otherwise, from this small basement enclave scraping the sides somewhere deep inside the bowels of the Internet, my guess would be that you valued reader would be thinking no. 

And get to the point, I'm trying to figure out this zen sound of one hand clapping thing before dinner and you aren't exactly helping by muddying the waters with irrelevant mangled mixed metaphors. 

And in both cases you'd be more than likely entirely correct. 

And yes, dinner is almost ready.

In the space of three years, I've gone from writing essentially for myself, to for others in a different context, to doing largely everything I can think of by my self. 

But relax, I haven't been trapped in a cupboard and this is to the full extent of which I'll be detailing what I've been up to in some kind of Anne Frank manner.

Plus that's not why you've called. Football. AFL Football. Well, Carlton AFL Football, So Barely.

I've missed the full Malthouse era, you've probably not noticed or even considered my opinions in that time, and that's fine. Most of, if not all of my opinions during this period, if I remember correctly have been lukewarm at best to put it kindly.

But, as has been the case since the mid to late 90's, when my childhood being over some how has unintentionally jinxed the team I've watched almost every minute of Carlton's games since the now highly touted, successful (underline successful) Hawthorn assistant Brett Ratten was swiftly deposed from the head coaching job and replaced by one moustachioed Herr Malthouse. 

Mick, Mick, Mick. 

This could very easily be the point where things devolve into a Herald Sun-esque letter to the editor regarding the Ox being slow, the earth turning and whatever historical bullshit I could think of to prosecute an irrational argument about one Michael "Michelangelo, the artist, not   the ninja turtle" Malthouse (Granted I agree, it's not a very catchy nickname).

Then in a Hitchcockian, wait that should say Hinchian, manner repeatedly utter the phrase "shame". 

But the truth is, some, if not all of this garbage has more than likely already seeped out directly from the inner rumblings of such cultural and intellectual doyens as Murray from Narre Warren, passed throughout the airwaves of various talk back media and into your ears many weeks in the past.

You know, when it was relevant. 

By the way, hello to Murray if he's reading.

But let me just try and sum up three years of the highs the lows, and as was much more frequent, the small minded-win now mediocrity poorly translated into success by management and media that was the Carlton football club during this period, In two ways.

The Richmond fans know where I'm about to go here right? No? Oh I forgot they're Richmond supporters. Let me spell this out then.

First. We finished ninth and still made the finals. 

Then, well yeah, Chris Judd almost single handedly beat Richmond and...That's about it. There was a point I was going to make here, but then I was distracted by the irony of Richmond finally making the finals and well...Just to save time, you can probably write your own joke here.

The axe may have been used once (Malthouse) and a bathroom with a screaming wife and kids inside may also to be ready to be hacked into (The playing list), but I'm not quite ready to anything to do anything completely manic yet. Yet. Something about all work and no play...

That was probably the beginnings of an appropriate musing about some kind of useful analogy about where we've been and why Carlton and myself are in the same place and realigned again. But now I'm distracted thinking about I probably should have written about the time I saw Chris Judd avoiding a fight with a junkie on Lygon St on the news followed directly by his heavily pregnant wife having to present the weather forecast.

As is the case with Carlton. 

We know our limits, but good god we are trying to present the weather, I mean the facts the best we can. We know the outlook is more than likely shithouse when we reach with draft picks or contracts, but Blaine Boekhurst, Josh Boostma and Dale Thomas as much as we want them to just can't put the meth addict in Lygon in a headlock, it just wouldn't be good form. 

So let the meth head shout at you whilst someone calls the cops and others around video tape and gawk waiting for you to potentially do something whilst considering how you may or may not seem a lot different than when they last saw you when you weren't injured. 

I may or may not be going to full tank for draft picks and rebuild soon. 

And there will be more to come about this in a week or so, unless I decide not to. Again.

A long wait for Waite awaits to date. Mate.

 …The Waite-ing game. Carlton’s Waitey issue, Worth the Waite,

 

Write your own shithouse pun here because I’m sick of reading this sort of moronic crap.

Shut the hell up AFL media.

What kind of moronic crap I hear you not say?

- afl.com went with the very subtle “Carlton too 'Waite-conscious': Mick”.

This kind.

Some may have noticed, I’m nothing if not bluntly honest, so I’ll say this right off the bat. I’ve never been 100% on board with Waite. Gasp!? Yeah I know. Sure I like the guy, don’t let that be mistaken.

But Waite is the Football equivalent of a late night drunk text from someone you really want to fuck sleep with, yet you can’t understand them, don’t know where they are and didn’t realise they had your number in the first place. Possibilities and would-be’s so high, yet in actuality, slapdash. Why did slapdash sound so dirty then? To slap and dash? Is that the etymology? Sex?
Anyway, for example, the only time in my memory I’d have to admit Waite’s play openly impressed me carnally, was rather ironically when he was playing in the Victorian state team. Fevola may have kicked 6, but Waite roamed the wings throughout, floated and turned for marks masterfully, and this made him the player whose flair undeniably stood out for all to see on that day and beyond.
Then again that being said, I also thought Nathan Foley may have been best on ground that day, so I in hindsight I possibly could’ve been smoking crack mistaken.
It also was that day that I subconsciously stored Waite in the 'has potential' file in my mind, like many previous girlfriends something I'm extremely certain I'm not the only one to do, it’s an appraisal I have since concretely yet to go back to. The only addendum I've realistically ever considered to ‘has potential’ in my mind since is the word an 'Unfulfilled' in the centre of it.

A capacity for much more than what is, is a sad thing sometimes, especially when others are willing and able to see the glimpses of the brilliance obtainable, it affects people differently I suppose, but my reaction for better or for worse is to not linger. There is other shit to be done.
I’ve never really had the heart to talk about achy-breaky Jarrad Waite. 
The most recent conversation I do remember having about Waite was around 2007ish with two supporters of other clubs, my Essendon and Richmond “friends”. Their input comprised basically of “Oh we wish we had Waite, he’s a gun” to which I may have replied something along the lines of “I’d rather put my dick in a blender than rely on Waite playing every game in a season.” Or…“You can have him, we’ll happily take Richo or Lloyd (both in the twilight of their careers at the time) Lloyd should have played for us anyway like his Dad, and if it weren’t for draft picks being taken away by bloody John Elliott we would’ve had your whole ninth placed list.”
I forget which precisely. Needless to say alcoholic spirits were a big part of my life then.
It was around that point where the Essendon supporter stared blankly at me and the Richmond supporter threatened to glass me.
Not much has changed since then.

Despite my largely clear-cut indifference to “Vin’s Boy”-as Rex Hunt calls him. I can’t quite fully explain the undeniable sense of discontent every time this kind of article/rhetoric turns up in front of me. I dare say you’ve heard/seen it before as well.

"Key forward (insert name here) comes back/is injured/suspended and this one player impacts significantly and profoundly by saving/destroying (insert team name here) season."
As most sporting/regular folk know, shit chatter happens. Learn to ignore it. It’s as obvious as a wife or girlfriend asking you to fix a wall after an ad for Selleys’s no more gaps is on TV. It’s space filler.

In previous years this kind of talk rung out loud and clear around VISY Park, and not that you asked for preciseness, typically on a Thursday. And it seemed to mean more.

These days Carlton is able to somehow surround itself in such a tedium and formlessness as to most self-respecting journalists are sick of our typical shit and go looking for some drug scandal copy. Some might call it professionalism, mafia connections or Malthouse. It’s hard to tell just yet. Previous years have been a veritable shit-storm compared to the start of this year.

Its only 7ish rounds in and not a lot has happened:

- An unexceptional 5 point loss to Richmond in which Yarran could have won it, twice.
-Two mostly expected yet competitive losses to Collingwood and Geelong.

-Matthew Kreuzer fractures his thumb, gets a plate put in. Still remains a great actor.

- A win over West Coast in Subiaco, proved – (That’s right, points within points)

- We are better on a bigger ground. Hear that Ian Collins! What?! He’s retired?

- West Coast are not the same without their full side, or slow or both. Or on a time delay.

-A large part of our side is originally from WA (7 players)

- Mick really didn’t want to lose to both his former teams in under a month.

-That with an 86.2% disposal efficiency Brock McLean can actually help us win games

- If your opponent kicks 23 behinds and only 7 goals you dodged a bullet

- Then we proved it wasn’t a fluke when we beat Adelaide, Taylor Walker does his knee.

- We are finally glad we got rid of Sam Jacobs. Sort of. Until “Sauce” has another good run again.

-Gibbs mysteriously pings a hamstring and misses the game against Melbourne, sending the backline of my dream team into chaos as Heppell is rested against GWS. Sorry meant to delete that one.

- We beat Melbourne by ten goals and Melbourne fans remain reasonably happy/suicidal.

-And finally, Jarrad Waite head-butts Melbourne defender Tom McDonald in the first quarter against the Demons in his first game back takes a plea and is suspended for a week.

This is kind of thing that just makes just want to type fuuuuuuuuu until my middle finger breaks off from hitting the ‘u’ key. But I’m clearly not the only great and modest football mind these kind of thoughts have floated around in. Don’t believe me? Just ask Caro.
Exactly sister, right on. Shoot that poison arrow. Or better yet punch Craig Hutchison in his stupid fat egg-man face. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. And neither would anyone else.
Here is why the last is such a problem.

Not punching Hutchy. In fact get on “zem twitterz” and let him know what I think. Here it is this is what the power of social networking is clearly for.

Back to what little point I had;

Carlton solely- correctly or not, base our forward line around the concept of having one large “marking” carcass “creating a contest” and our tiny small forwards buzzing around trying to sneak 3-4 goals a game each.
If this does not happen we lose. Simple as that.
Why this the case? We have no depth. Especially in the forward half.
No better was this point illustrated than when Eddie Betts somehow became our second lead up marking target last year. Yikes. But giant shorts and occasional mark of the year contender and broken jaw aside, to win we need many more proficient marking key forwards around.
More than none that is.

Ratts tried valiantly with varying success with “Seat belt on mate”- As Matthew Kreuzer will now be known as- playing as a part time/casual/shift worker/intern key forward last year. But Kruuuuu (nope I’ve run of the letter u’s from that last gag earlier) is much more adept playing as a ruck/mid around clearances than he is as a ruck/mid/forward trying to kick multiple bags of goals. And let’s be serious here, the kid is good but he can’t do it all. And if Carlton decides against the above philosophy we well end up running him into the ground. The only reason I think Ratten at least tried this kind of tactic last year was to get some form into him and try and keep everyone on the list happy because we had too many ruck options. Warnooocccckkkkk!!!!!!

As strange as this sentence is about to sound, this year Malthouse has flirted with Megan Gale’s boyfriend -As Hampson will now be known until: either a; he starts performing anywhere near to level of ability that Gale and others see in his specimen or b; they break up (also c; Andy Lee kicks another bag it the channel 9 legends game and we decide we might as well sign him up as well). His aerobic capacity and tap work is the same if not slightly less than Kruuuuu…ah my finger!
Glad that’s settled. Wait. No, both those options are utterly shit.

This year, after 12 years you know where, a year in the media and saying some stupid things- like our list doesn’t need changing? Mick has been rotating mostly midfielders up forward so far. The enduringly fatigued Chris Judd, Brock “I can’t run, but I’m working on my poor man’s impersonation of Dane Swan” McLean and Chris “I’ll make you shout at the television at least once a game” Yarran get a run up there most weeks. But these options are all selleys’ stop gaps; Mick knows in the future things will be different.

Dylan Buckley is a kid I have a lot of time for in our forward line going ahead, just as I had, and still do have lot of time for Matthew Watson down back. He looks like a slightly older Leonardo DiCaprio in “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape” and may be distracted by “The Great Gatsby” coming out in Australia soon, but if he improves in the air we may see him coming to a forward line opening near you. Buckley…Yes he’s another lightning 179cm small forward with talent, one we’ll enjoy the fruits of labour of very soon, in spite of a reasonably good performance his first game, his time is far from now. Along with Orphan Annie (Josh Bootsma), Buckley is challenging for the most baby-faced player on our list, if we play both we may as well start playing one direction songs as motivation music before games.

Along with not being a member of 1D, Levi “Rock the” Casboult you’d have to say is not that far off playing some serious football. Whether Waite is in the side or not. He’s got good hands is a good size and is serviceable in a role Mick likes use of forward/ruck/3rd tall. Soon. People forget both him and John Butcher at Port (who?) were touted as the “Next Fevola” a comparison that takes clearly more than a year or two to figure out. And there is zero chance of either kicking six in a state of origin game anytime soon.

Mick’s also let Sam Rowe (Can you tell how hard I’m trying not to make a testicular fortitude joke here) have a run at things. But seriously, he says here he’d rather be known as a good person and a good bloke. Which it seems like he is. I’ve not seen enough from him to honestly know if I should be getting my hopes up, so far I’m leaning towards “I’d rather Jarrad not headbutt anyone so Rowe can play some VFL.

Rant over. Take that internet.

At least we're not...The Demons

The much hackneyed phrase "A picture tells a thousand words" surely applies here.
But hey, these are the kind of scenes that are expected to happen when Melbourne suddenly aren't the powerhouse they once were...right? Wait a minute...
Even the kid from modern family in the bottom left corner seems embarrassed by the inept performance he's just witnessed, and he has to listen to Sofia Vergara shout/mangle the english language most days.
In addition to that, while we're still here, don't even dare look at the guy behind the family from the TAC ad, he will steal your soul.
Judging by this, I would not at all be surprised if Melbourne's main sponsor next year is one of those funeral insurance places I keep seeing ads for on tv.
Read on after the break.

Well...I hope this isn't too self aggrandising

 

 

Firstly play this.

And if you cannot endure looking exclusively at Steve Patrick Morrissey's smug face, scroll down, listen and read to what I have to say.

 

This song is to be treated as somewhat of a aural douche (Yes I'm being serious) for several closely-knit notions that I'll no doubt shortly struggle to get across. 

 

Amongst these are, why I've decided to do this again with an odd unforeseen tinge of optimism. As well as hopefully some unique sprinklings of unusual thought regarding the state of play for what you may or may not also be here to read about.

Football. AFL. Aussie Rules. Yes, I'll get to it.
Hopefully all within 3 minutes 14 seconds. Okay, if not, next time.

 

So to introduce (read: re-introduce) myself and justify my own supposed authority to be writing on this kind of subject matter. Here's some background.
(Has the chorus kicked in yet?)(If not, wait a second)

 

So, what difference does it make ?
Oh, what difference does it make ?

Oh, it makes none
But now you have gone

And you must be looking very old tonight 

 

I'm a Carlton supporter, I have been my entire life.

And when I type "My entire life" I very much mean it.

My grandmother on my father's side, a life member of Carlton,

gave my father, he played for Carlton's reserves, 
the unabashed gift of a navy blue and white football boot shaped piece of porcelain with "blues" on it as I exited my mother.
 

I also suspect around that time she was anticipating a handball recieve. 
 



Here it is today, my birth video looking much worse for wear or wares, whichever you'd like to use.

Also here pictured on my kitchen bench with Gumby shoeing you to create a sense of scale.

  

So I dare say we've established I support Carlton and that there was no choice in the matter.

(Another chorus should be about now)

So, what difference does it make ?
Oh, what difference does it make ?

Oh, it makes none
But now you have gone
And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight

Being a supporter of a club, yet on the other hand being a "fan" can seemingly be two completely opposed concepts. 

The other option is, as some in Melbourne do, regard the AFL as an absolute exercise in futility ten to eleven months of the calendar year. Just ask Sam Newman.

Which of course it can be. Much like Sam Newman's career.

That's essentially the point of this blog. No, not Sam Newman.

 

Some of questionable things an organization, in this case Carlton may decide to do which may or may not fly completely in the face of what seems like progress or even at times sanity.

This is also how my life has been known to work/not work. Which I'm sure I'll get to also.

In summary. It's Mabo, it's the vibe.

 

But no more apologies
No more, no more apologies
Oh, I'm too tired
I'm so sick and tired
And I'm feeling very sick and ill today
But I'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh

Also just to end for now on this note. If you've read this and thought so far that I have made my points above seemingly clumsily/chaotically, I'm sorry to say dear reader this is about as succinct and concise as I get.

  

I haven't written one of these since 2010, so there may be rust and the world and myself I admit has changed a lot since, most of which I won't even attempt to go through yet. Yet. But remain prepared and vigilant as I prepare to open my mind and tip it out onto this screen of which you read.

 

More to come.