Well, it's probably time to give up on the season - South Melbourne 0 Oakleigh Cannons 2

Boy, did this whole outing just suck from almost start to finish. Since I do not live that far away from McIvor Reserve, I didn't think it would be necessary to get to the ground super early (and it's not like there was a reserves game before the seniors), and public transport to that venue being what it is (shithouse), it seemed like a no-brainer to just drive. That was a great idea until your correspondent was obliged by a volunteer car park attendant to park in an exact spot, all while I somehow got into an argument with said attendant about my very poor parking abilities (thank you, bung left retina), and I remembered why I stopped taking driving lessons with my old man back in the day. The upshot of being in that particular spot was that at least one regular South of the Border reader was able to pick out my car from the mass of steel, thanks to the classiness of the stickers on the rear windscreen. 

The trauma of the car park having been overcome soon enough, it was time to wander in and wonder when we would be better off going next door to watch the hockey, a sport I otherwise don't think much of. Turns out, not very long. If you were being kind, you'd say we just had an off day coming off the faux-bye, and that one bad outing (during the regular season) against an accomplished opponent doesn't undo all the good things we've done in 2023. If you were being less kind, you'd basically write off the rest of the home and away season, and just pray for two (or if necessary, three) games in a row of complete arse to get state title no. 11, before we can finally bail on this decrepit league.

The first half was so, so bad. Like, "half a season ago, before we briefly emerged from our turtle shells bad". There was no pressure on the Oakleigh defenders when they were in possession. Like, zero, nada, zilch. Pat Langlois having to be told by a teammate to at least jog towards the Oakleigh left-back who had the ball. Instead, time and again, Oakleigh were allowed easy passes out of defence, under no duress. A little bit of carrying the ball up the field, a couple of passes, and Oakleigh's very good forward line was provided with ample opportunity to do its worst; luckily for us, they had an off day in front of goal.

You may think Chris Taylor is a great coach at this level, or merely a middling one who happens to know how to use a big budget. On Sunday, it didn't matter, because we forfeited all the initiative to such a degree it wouldn't have mattered who was coaching Oakleigh. If there is one thing I hate about the way our squad plays when it's at its worst, it is exactly that - letting the opposition dictate the nature of the contest by default. Oakleigh want the ball. They want to keep it, recycle it, move it around. We are a counter-attacking team, and that's fine - but without pressing up the field, without actively trying to win the ball back as opposed to just waiting for opposition mistakes, we are not going to have much luck against opponents who aren't borderline incompetent.

That win of ours against Avondale earlier in the season? It was good not because Avondale had a bad day, but because they actually played pretty well. They played well and still lost, not because of dumb luck favouring us, but because we went out there with a positive plan, and didn't just wait for them to gift us goals. But on Sunday, Max Mikkola was all alone on his left wing, looking a lot like Gerrie Sylaidos all alone on his left wing, no forwards to pass to, and no midfield to play with. Ajak Riak, having to go all the way back to midfield to get any taste of the ball. Fifteen shots on target to one by the end, because for some reason on a small ground we decided to have almost all of our ball and personnel in our defensive third.

That we came out in the second half trying to get back in the game with fireworks and big lineup changes reeked of desperation, not method. Of the two new acquisitions, Yagoub Mustafa looked much better than Luka Ninkovic, but neither player was going to be the solution to the underlying problem of philosophy; we came out hoping not to lose, they came out hoping to win. The nature of the performance carries the possibility of having done serious damage to the belief of the playing squad. I don't know what skipper Brad Norton said to the side after he held them back on the field following the final whistle - it probably doesn't even really matter - but that he felt the need to do that should be of concern on its own. Second on the ladder with a game in hand, one bad day at the office shouldn't need more than a quick "well, that sucked, let's shrug it off and move on".

Next match
On Sunday at McIvor Reserve against Hume City. This will be our last "home" match of the home and away season.

Is there a curtain raiser?
No. Once more, the under 21s will be playing their match at 6:30PM, a good hour and a half following the conclusion of the senior match.

Around the grounds
24 hours earlier, three and a bit kilometres west
Finding Duane Reserve in Brooklyn - a ground I'd never been to before - was very much like finding a secret passage in a video game. You inadvertently turn left instead of going straight, follow some winding path which the developers made longer just for the sake of added mystery, and all of a sudden there you are, in a little suburban soccer oasis. Like any good oasis, there was a fresh water supply - in this case, a leaky pipe which made one side of the field muddier than you'd like, and which forced the linos to run along the left-forward wing instead of their usual place on the right. Altona North an old off-shoot of Altona City, formed by some Maltese blokes who couldn't get a game at the latter. Most of their history has been undistinguished, strictly lower league and even more obscure; now they find themselves in a league playing against teams with brief Victorian Premier League tenures, including today's opponent, Altona East, who once went within a game of a VPL grand final. As for the game, the first hour was a grind, but East got on top in the last portion of the game, and ground out a deserved 1-0 win, in glorious Saturday afternoon Melbourne winter light, as I discussed the demographic reasons for the decline of Australia's ethnic clubs from the 1960s to today. Then I did it the next day, again.

Food for thought
After the match I bought a souv. I had to wait a little bit, it cost $15, but it was more than adequate. Not award winning, but more than good enough. It was the kind of experience that makes you wonder about the possibilities about a certain other venue's comparative food offerings.

Final thought
Had a wonderful discussion post-game the other day about music, football, and one particular football book. I hadn't gone back and read this rambling review for some time. I think the book's "end of history" vibe is going to get a challenge soon. The future lasts a long time, and such.