You know that only the rare few among us have the touch of crazy, awesome genius that allows us to know which coach gave which input to a particular piece of the game plan - a rare gift! So Rioli doing that little pressure act that meant the Carlton player fumbling and the mighty yellow black scoring yet another goal from a turnover - "That was Blake" you say to yourself with a special, knowing little smile. Lloydy handballs weakly and the ball is picked off by Murphy -"FFS Dimma" you mutter pensively, shaking your long, well-conditioned locks of lustrous auburn hair out of your piecing blue eyes in annoyance. Hark - a Prestia goal off the pack from a Griffens long bomb to the square - "Good one Leppa" - sotto voce - you nod sagely as you look out across the great unwashed crowd of Tiger fans, happy in their blissful ignorance of the titanic struggle going on in the RFC coaches box only a few hundred metres away.
The final siren sounds - you make your way down Brunton Avenue towards the station. Victory was achieved and evil was vanquished - for today at least. But you know in your heart of hearts that this is a war, not a battle. The forces of darkness are always there - God grant strength to those brave knights of Game Plan, Blake and Justin, In their ceaseless struggle against the Dark One. (You know... Beavis).
