I was fortunate enough to be at 2017 Grand Final, nothing tops that, but beating the Scats comes very close.
Yes. 2017 was untoppable. The droughtbreaker after so many DECADES of heartbreak, humiliation and despair. One that a lot of people weren’t expecting. Even when being there, so many goals up and only a few minutes to go, I was still in a state of denial or disbelief, that the flag was finally ours. That feeling won’t be repeated in my lifetime I think.
2020 was satisfying in so many different ways. We were a juggernaut then. The world was against us it seemed. From covid and it’s affects. To the AFL and media seemingly wanting us to fail and constantly writing us off. Winning the flag was the cake. To beat those *smile* from pussy park was the cherry on top. Watching the smugness wiped from their faces as we came from behind was something to behold. In a way, it was good I couldn’t make it to the game because I wouldn’t have been able to see Salty’s face go from “ we’ve got this” to “ oh *smile*” right before my eyes on screen. Dusty’s last goal just humiliated the handbaggers. From the moment you see the ball, him and 5-6 cats players, you just knew something special was about to happen. Seeing them *smile* themselves, seeing dusty pounce, watching dangerflog attempting to tackle and getting shrugged off like he was a little leaguer is something that I’ll remember to my grave. I need a box of tissues every time I think of it. It was a work of art, it was poetry in motion. It was a masterpiece of football.