The life of a Docker fan

I'm a Tasmanian born and bred Queenslander living in Sydney who supports the Fremantle Dockers. I'm also an optimist.

So as Fremantle ascended into a genuine Premiership contender this year, I've found myself trying to explain why a 9 year old from a town of 4oo people in the middle of Tasmania would support Fremantle.

Many would say it could only take an eternal optimist to support the Dockers. The optimism wasn't hereditary though. I'm the son of a St Kilda man who was 10 years old the last time the Saints raised the premiership cup. Growing up with the likes of Stewart, Breen and Howell, it was a no brainer for the man that led West Launceston Primary School to a famous grand final win to support the Saints. 47 years on and the joy of those days are long gone. The agony of '97 was there to see first hand. A decade later I was 'fortunate' enough not to bare witness to those two loses in the presence of my dad.

My mum on the other hand...... well she hasn't been able to watch a game since Darren Glass' shiny shoulders departed our screens. Only this year, as the Tiger bandwagon gathers steam has she dared to watch a game.

With that family history behind me, I had the choice when the Dockers entered the league. I wasn't tied to any team (though the Bulldogs were the team of choice thanks to Danny Del Ray). Here was a new team, formed on the back of the Eagles success out west with the power of the WAFL and East Fremantle's success. They had bright new colours (obligatory in the 90's) and and a theme song that was the envy of the code(maybe).

As I ran around the back yard as a fully fledged member of the imaginary team, I played alongside the likes of Parker, Mann, Chisholm, Kickett, McManus and Waterhouse. However as the backyard premierships, Brownlow's and Coleman's mounted for the centre half forward named Booth and his team (I did let someone else get the Brownlow one year), the Dockers struggled on the field.

Through their first 8 years the Dockers were no higher than 12th. Through 11 years they played one finals game (a home finals loss no less and I remember the party I was at). It took 12 years to win a finals game and crack the top 4. They have also never back to back finals appearances.

Until now! If you haven't heard it already the purple army is gathering in strength. For the first time in my life I genuinely believe in my team and the premiership chances. It may be dangerous and could very well end in disaster and tears (very likely). I feel this is what it must be life to support Hawthorn or Geelong for the last 6 years. To know your team is not just a chance, but a contender. A team that should win and does. To take care of business. To dispatch the weak and challenge the elite.

Growing up I was lucky enough to travel to Melbourne to see them play. My first trip was out to the old Princes Park/Optus Oval to see them take on my Dad's beloved Saints. A young Nick Riewoldt was in that Saints side. The Dockers lost, Dad didn't think Riewoldt had what it took and it started a trend of not seeing them win when I was there. Trips to York Park/Aurora Stadium were frivolous, as were the trips across Bass Strait to the old Telstra Dome. It took my move to Brisbane (and the company of my future wife) to finally witness a win. That win, the Quentin Leach kick after the siren and the victory over Geelong were until a month ago the Dockers greatest games. 

Then came the Carlton game 4 weeks ago. It was in my eyes a perfect game and a perfect illustration of what this team has become. The first half saw the best attacking defense I've seen. They swarmed on every Carlton player who touched the ball. The forwards protected the ball leaving the 50 with a fervor rarely seen. A team once maligned ridiculed for its away record was slowly sufficating its opponent on its own turf. To Carlton's credit they stayed with them. But it got to a point where they just couldn't keep doing it. Like a pod of whales toying with its pray until it gets tired. That's when the attacking machine was released.

For a team that kicked 100 points 6 times last season they have already done it 10 times in 2013 (not including a 99 point game). At the same time they are happy to bog down and win by kicking scores in the sixties as they've done twice this year. They concede on average 67 points, 8 points clear of the next best team the Swans.

Ross Lyon has instilled a culture, a system and a belief not just into the players but into a fan group. His methods have honed at his time at St Kilda. Proven on all but the biggest stage (and if it weren't for the ball bouncing at right angles in front of Milne..... sorry Dad). He has turned Suban from a sub to a star. A team previously reliant on Pav and Sandi, now sees them just as another cog in the machine.

Two years ago the Dockers came to a crossroad. To continue down the path of intermittent success, of finals football without a plan. Or to veer right, court controversy and divide the fans and go all in. All in it was with Lyon.

Two years later here we are. Fremantle fans believe, as does the rest of the AFL world. This September may mark a crossroads for my own sporting future. It could lead me down the same path many a generations of my family have walked or it could pave the way for a life free from the cynicism, giving me that grand final my father never had. Let's hope for my sake its the later.

The tale of Trent Bridge

The dust has settled from the dry Trent Bridge pitch and we've come to realise Ashton Agar isn't the second coming of Christ and we are starting to get Bumbles, Beefy and Nasser withdrawal symptoms. So with Lord's only two days away let's take a look back at the important issues that arose from the most riveting, compelling hour-to-hour test match I've ever seen.

Chris Rogers arm guard
Back at the parents house last Christmas, I pulled out my old cricket bag in a moment of nostalgia. Pads, gloves, thigh guard, bat, balls, helmet and box; they were all there. After ten years locked away they were still all nice and white, with the materials still firmly sown together (could have been the lack of time at the

crease that contributed).

Chris Rogers arm guard on the other hand.... no idea what to say. It inspired visions of Waugh's once red hanky and Ponting's faded baggy green, but Rogers and his arm guard, that's a new level of disrepair. We all know how long it's been  between drinks for the county cricket specialist, but surely after making a fifty in an Ashes match, he could head down to the local sport store and pick one up for a couple of pounds.

Trent Bridge outfield

What do Wimbledon and Trent Bridge have in common? The same curator. By the last day of the test the ground resembled centre court at Wimbledon on the final Sunday. The outfield, much like the service line, was more akin with an Aussie backyard during drought than a cricket field. He had obviously spent too much time on the plethora of other pitches just in case they wanted to change overnight. So many pitches but they still couldn't keep the main deck up to scratch.

DRS - It works

Michael Clarke is probably tracking at the same strike rate with reviews as Roger Federer right now. But for all the controversy the Decision Review System created, the outcome of the game wasn't affected as much as we all want to believe.

Play this match 5 years ago without DRS and this is how 3 key moments of this test would have played out:

1. Ashton Agar's stumping: While on 6 in his first test innings, Agar over stretched coming forward, causing his foot to leave the crease temporarily, before lifting and sliding it back. All the while eagle eye Prior is watching his foot waiting to whip the bails off. After 5 tedious minutes he is given not out. No matter if you think this is out or not, THIS DECISION IS NOT PART OF DRS. As we have seen for 20 years, run outs and stumpings are referred to the third umpire. In this case there wasn't enough conclusive evidence to give him out. It wasn't about overturning a decision, it was just the decision of the third umpire. So let's all get our hands off DRS's throat and move on.

2. Trott LBW to Starc: First ball of his second innings Trott gets a beauty from Starc that pitches in line, swings in, holds its line and takes Trott on the pads right in front. Given not out the Aussie's confidently challenge. Trott, looking as resolute as ever meets with Cook mid pitch. After the obligatory no ball review we see the front on shot, where it is hard to tell if there is an inside edge. Next, the front on hot spot camera shows no sign of an edge, even when the bat turns to face the camera. Then the final step, where we see the ball going nowhere but middle stump. So far the prosecution can rest its case. 

The side on hot spot, the defenses key witness is still getting over the Root dismissal from the ball before is unfortunately unavailable(apparently a camera can't take two pictures in the space of 2 minutes). The jury, in this case the third umpire, therefore has no choice but to give him out as all evidence points to no inside edge. This weight of evidence is proven again with....

3. Haddin edging the last ball: As with the above case, the third umpire had no choice based on the evidence presented but to overturn Alem Dar's original decision.

Two overturned decision, two correct decisions. The Agar stumping fell into the inconclusive evidence basket. Whatever your opinion of it, DRS was designed to increase the already outstanding 92% of decisions being correct by elite umpires into 96% of the decisions being correct. It is not there to eliminate every slightly wrong decision, but to remove the howlers and stinkers. The umpires call is a key part of sport, not just cricket, and taking every decision out of their hands changes the fabric of the game.

Michael Holding's tales

We were privileged to have two Tony Greig features throughout this test. As we reminisced about Greigy and Bill chatting away in the box, it was heartening to hear Beefy Botham and Michael Holding at work. For those of us that enjoyed Michael for many years on ABC's summer of cricket, it was a pleasure to listen to the Jamaican once more. Teamed up with Beefy they were a welcome change from the dullest English opener of the modern era and a former England captain.

The pinnacle of their new found partnership came when we had a Masterchef and 1980's shield cricket special. As the camera panned across the Australian Sports Tours group, Michael mentioned a team mate of his he played with in Launceston (pronounced in a very Jamaican accent). It turns out the team mate was a butcher who didn't stock pigs tails (who knew butchers in Tassie in the 80's didn't stock pig tails). So as Beefy inquired inquisitively, Michael proceeded to explain how he got them, taught this fellow how to brine them, before finishing off with a simple recipe of pigs tail, rice and beans. When Beefy tried to predict the next step in the recipe, by suggesting spices were added, Michael simply responded, 'No Beefy. Just pigs tail, rice and beans. Simple'. Well said Mr Holding.

The law of averages: (innings in parenthesis)

Shane Watson       35.18 (77)            Alastair Cook        48.94 (165)
Chris Rogers          21.75 (4)               Joe Root                  38.25 (13)
Ed Cowan               31.28 (32)             Jonathan Trott    49.28 (77)
Michael Clarke     51.75 (156)           Kevin Pieterson   48.88 (163)
Steve Smith           32.66 (16)             Ian Bell                  45.90 (152)
Phil Hughes           34.06 (47)            Jonny Bairstow   30.23 (15)
Brad Haddin          35.52 (75)             Matt Prior             43.67 (103)

Enough said!

Boof Lehmann - Coach, Mentor & Play-dough master

I don't know what I liked more. First we had Lehmann sitting contently on the balcony, watching the game and getting some sun with the radio in his ear. As the commentators got around to talking about him and what a great effort he has done as coach he just smiled and gave the thumbs up (don't think Mickey Arthur is doing the same right now). This could have been topped by Lehmann pacing the change rooms with what looked like Play-Doh in his hands for the final two hours, nervously squeezing, making shapes for Michael Clarke to admire. At times the Play-Doh looked like it was about to be hurled at the wall like an almost cooked piece of spaghetti, but he resisted, as this new Lehmann would. We can only hope it makes its way to Lord's, unlike Ed Cowan.

Ladies and gentleman, your Wanker of the Year

I couldn't wrap this up without handing out this year's Wanker of the Year award. It may only be mid July, but the race is over, stop the polling. I am confident I have this right, despite the fact NRL players are capable of anything, B grade celebrities will got to anything length to embarrass themselves, and of course we have Kevin 07, Bob Katter and Clive Palmer to keep us going through September. But Stuart Broad is without doubt the fanfare's inaugural Wanker of the Year.

Take a bow Stuart and please make sure you sign for the trophy when it arrives. Now I'm the first to admit that if I edge it to the keeper I don't walk, I wait for the finger to be raised, it's the law of the game. (It's the same as bowler’s decision in backyard cricket). But he may as well have hit it straight to Lehmann on the balcony as the contact between bat and ball couldn't have been much better. He will regret it no doubt, maybe not publicly, but that split second decision will haunt him. Maybe the same way that the 28 runs he scored after that point will haunt an Australian public that saw their country lose by just 14 runs.

Couple that with the amateur hour performance of taking his insole out of his shoe in a futile effort to get to lunch and the top spot on the dais is all his.

#agar #ashtag #howgooddoestwitterworkwithcricket

Ashton Agar's 98 is likely to be one of the most memorable cricket innings I will remember. It will take it's place beside Waugh's SCG 100 in the pantheon of innings I've seen. It wasn't about the score, it wasn't about the Ashes, it was about enjoying cricket. This was the most enjoyable innings of cricket I can remember. From his own enjoyment, beamed to the world with his smile, to his family’s excitement, then horror (brother’s shirt not included), to the way in which even the Pom’s were cheering him along.

Moments like this are what makes test cricket. From the depths of 9-117 to all out for 280, Ashton Agar, his unlikely accomplice Phil Hughes and fans all over Twitter and the world simply enjoyed the ride. Adam Scott's twin brother reminded us all why we love cricket, and why the Ashes is the pinnacle of this sport.

My Tour

How do you best describe the Tour de France? The three week extravaganza unlike anything else. 198 riders traversing over 3,000km of French countryside. From Corsica to Mont-Saint-Michel, Mont Ventoux to Alpe-d'Huez, the 100th running of La Grande Boucle features many of France's biggest cities and most famous climbs and towns.

So instead of telling stories you could read in the countless books written about the Tour, or giving you predictions that you can read anywhere and everywhere, I thought I'd put it simply, because to me the Tour is.....

- the tete de le course, the poursuivants and the peleton

- the devil on the roadside

- sweeping shots of 14th century castles and chateaus

- Paul Sherwan and Phil Liggett

- the red kite/flamme rouge

- Australian media wondering why Cadel is 78th after one stage

- the official Tour guide

- Gabriele Gate and the taste of the Tour

- memories of legends like Merckx and Coppi
- the drug cynics

- Mike Tomolaris

- the Rue de Rivoli and Place de la Concorde

- the Col du Tourmalet, d'Aspin, de Peyresourde and d'Aubisque

- the rest day in Gap or Pau
- lead out trains and domestiques
- the neutral, feeding and call of nature zone
- Matt Keenan warming the seat with style

- 'crackling over race radio'

- the Manx Missile taking off

- green, white and polda-dot jerseys

- a Frenchman winning on Bastille Day

- the Col du Telegraph, Col du Galibier and Col de la Croix-de-Fer

- my wife now loving this time of year
- the crowds parting just in time
- the Vendee, the Massif Central and the Loire
- the sunflowers
- recalling Indurain and Abdoujaparov, my earliest Tour memories

- watching the 6pm highlights even though you watched the stage

- the memory to Fabio Casartelli and Tom Simpson
- green, white and polda-dot jerseys

- everyone becoming a cycling expect overnight

- intermediate sprints and Cat-4 climbs
- 'heads of state'

- the grupetto over Hors categorie climbs

- famous ski stations like Peyragudes, Luz Ardiden, Arcalis and Briançon

- a team sport for an individual winner

- an Australian team at the Tour de France

- the Basque orange in the Pyrenees

- Cofidis, Euskaltel-Euskadi and Lampre

- everything you can want from a three week sporting event

Most importantly, the Tour de France is where one of Australia's greatest sporting stories was told. Vive le Tour!

Passing the baton

Longevity; that mythical, illusive and once cherished facet of sport. It sat alongside loyalty and talent in the sporting pantheon of must haves. Those building blocks were the cornerstones for the success that the likes of Ted Whitten and Reg Gasnier had. They personified loyalty and longevity.

As sports fans we embody these traits. We bleed black and white, purple, red and blue, green and every other colour that represents our sporting teams. We would rather donate a kidney than cheer for Collingwood or Manly. We feel betrayed when players change teams, switch codes or move countries. Many of us think, often wrongly so, that these players owe the club and the game. Their decisions should be made not in their own best interests, but the best interests of the game.

But in the sporting world we now reside, longevity has taken a back seat to the commercial reality. Loyalty has been replaced by player's growing desire for success. We criticise players for chasing the dollars, maybe fairly so, but we are often guilty of a mob mentality when a player moves for no other reason than to succeed. Success, the very motivation that drives all people, not just sports people.

                                                                     Noah Graham/NBAE/Getty Images

All of which leads to Friday's game 7 of the NBA Finals. The scene for the ultimate display of everything I've just mentioned. Loyalty and longevity against the desire to win.

On one hand: Tim Duncan and Greg Popovich. They are the epitome of loyalty, trust and friendship, in a league of commercialism and money. For 15 years they have stood side by side. The player nicknamed 'The Big Fundamental' and the coach whose press conferences are enjoyable more for the lack of words than the auto-generated, publicity minded responses we are so used to.

On the other hand: LeBron James. King James. A player the likes we have never seen. On a team that was forced not forged. In a city where loyalty, especially amongst the fans, is hard to come by.

San Antonio is a small market team. A team built from the ground up, a la Storm and Geelong. Where the coach respects the players as much as the players respect the coach. Where Tony Parker is as likely to be scorned at as Patty Mills.

Miami is a big team, in a big market. Where Justin Bieber wears leather shirts and sunglasses indoors. Where expectations are as high as the plastic surgery bills in the crowd. They are expected to win and they promised as much three years ago.

Duncan and Pop are unique in professional sport. A nostalgic, romantic idea of a bygone era that we may only see once in a generation.

LeBron James is a statistical and physical anomaly. He passes like Magic, rebounds like Bird, defends like Rodman and can score like Jordan.

So as the clock ticked passed two minutes left and the margin was two, the casual supporter, like me, was torn. As I wrote last week we all want to witness greatness. Here in game 7 were two very different types of greatness. Tim Duncan and the Spurs; the old school, the consummate professionals, the under rated; versus LeBron and the Heat; the new school, the villain/hero, the showtime.

Jesse D. Garrabrant/NBAE/Getty Images

I wanted LeBron to win. Not for his legacy. Not because I wanted the Heat to win. But because he deserved it for one of the single greatest all-round seasons of our generation.

I wanted Duncan to win. I wanted him to win for the credit he deserves. For the credit his team deserves, for his team mates, and for Pop.

It was only fitting then, that as time wound down on one of the greatest finals in recent memory, that Duncan and LeBron, forever linked, would decide the outcome.

So when Duncan missed the four foot hook shot he has made thousands of times (then missed the tip in), it was only fitting that LeBron took, and made, the next shot, not only winning the game, but silencing the critics and putting an end to this story.

In was as if Duncan had foreseen this coming. A prophet, forecasting his own demise. "This is gonna be your league in a little while. I appreciate you giving us this year." Duncan said after his Spurs beat LeBron's Cavaliers in the 2007 finals.

6 years later, it is his league. LeBron James is the champion, Tim Duncan is the legend.

Walking in a sporting wonderland

The days are getting darker and colder as we inch towards the winter solstice (June 21). Leaving work in the dark is becoming routine and twilight football now feels like night time football. We struggle through bye rounds in both codes; while south Londoners enjoy strawberries and cream and the French enjoy their champagne cycling.

Given all the hours of darkness it feels only appropriate that we use this time productively to view as much cricket, rugby union, golf, cycling, F1, soccer, tennis, basketball, ice hockey and whatever else we can find.

So with almost three months of winter ahead of us, it's time to take stock and get a little giddy at what's to come.

The Majors: US Open June 13-16, Open Championship July 18 - 21, PGA Championship August 8 - 11

David Graham: In the company of Hogan & Trevino

It is only apt that we start with the current event on our global sporting tour. At the very course where Australian David Graham played one of the finest rounds of gold Ben Hogan had ever seen. Where there are no flags on the sticks, but wicker baskets. At the course where the aforementioned Bob Hogan won the US Open in 1950 the year after being hit by a bus. The same Merion East where Lee Trevino beat Jack Nicklaus in 1971 in an 18 hole playoff (Nicklaus was runner up to Trevino four times in majors).

This will be a test of the accurate golfer as much as the strong golfer. It will be a trip down memory lane, with the US Open switching from its traditional big open club to the smaller, less 'convenient' venue. If the rain stays away this will be a test for all golfers including the 8 Aussies!

The Ashes: July 10 - 14, July 18 - 22, August 1 - 5, August 9 - 13 and August 21 - 25

Ignore the form, David Warner Root-ing incident and all the fanfare in the build up and relish the thought of the Ashes, test cricket in its purest, finest form. Be it 5-0, 2-1 or 2-2, it's the Ashes, and we get the pleasure of watching, dissecting and discussing every decision, run and tweet that happens on tour. As Michael Clarke's back crumbles from supporting the weight of the Aussie batting line up, we will turn to Richard Hind's 'real openers'; Chris Rogers and Ed Cowan. These are openers with opening the betting foremost on their mind. Taking the shine off the new ball, lowering the moral of the opposing team and striving for a run rate of 2 an over. And while our bowling stocks might not have Warne, Gillespie or Kasprowicz McGrath, there is more than enough quality there to cover the stress fracture or two we pick up during the series.

And the good news if we lose? We only have to wait three months to get the urn back.

The Lions Tour: June 22 & 29, July 6

Oh we miss John....

Being a naive country boy from Tassie in 2001, where rugby was foreign to most, I never understood this tour. To me it was just a guise for the in form English team to tour once more.

Fast forward to today and the almost child like excitement of some of my co-workers. Between that and the selling out of tour games I have come to realise how big this tour is, and not just for the ARU bank account. Unlike 12 years ago there is no Johnny Wilkinson, but for that matter there isn't a George Gregan or Matt Burke, and there isn't much confidence from the locals.

But as with the Ashes, if we fail, the Super Rugby finals start at the end of July.


Tour de France: June 29 - July 21

Speaking of winter. The familiar site of Team Sky leading the way.

As you may have noticed earlier in the year I am rather fond of these three weeks. I don't cycle myself, I didn't ride more than any normal kid around the back yard and no one I knew particularly liked cycling. The origin of my fascination with the Tour is unknown, but what is known is that every July, France puts on the most viewed annual sporting event in the world.

If we thought last year was bad enough with the English bathing in Wiggin's and the Olympic success, then this year could be worse. With the Ashes, the Lions and Chris Froome all in ominous form, the English are as cocky as ever. Even so, this is the 100th running of the race that was founded to boost newspaper numbers and promises to be something special!

State of Origin: June 26 & July 17

Also known as rounds 2 and 3. As a Queensland supporter I can saw without doubt that the Maroons were thoroughly outplayed in game 1 and didn't deserve to win. That said, how someone can throw numerous pre-meditated punches to the head of an unsuspecting opponent and get away with it, before being glorified and applauded by the rest of his team mates, state and code supporters, goes to show why some think the NRL is so far behind the other codes, not in terms of the game itself, but its attitude and mentality.

We are surrounded by worthwhile causes such as 'one punch can kill', and live in a city where that week a young man was king hit for no reason, yet we say because this is Origin and he tackled dirty it's ok. Anyway, off the soap box now. Onto Suncorp Stadium for a Queensland win setting up the most fascinating game in 8 years.

World Cup Qualifier: June 18 (Confederations Cup 15-30th)

It won't quite be as dramatic as that night in November 2011 (still my number 1 sporting moment), but next Tuesday will shape the Australian sporting landscape for the next year. A win and we return to where many of us think we rightfully belong. However, we should not forget the achievement, nor the 32 years we waited for this back in 2006. It is still, as it was in those dreaded 5th place South American days, a tough process to get to the World Cup. As such, if we beat Iraq next week we should be grateful we are there.

Grand Prix's: British June 28 - 30, German July 5 - 7, Hungarian July 26 - 28, Belgium 23 - 25 August

A European summer wouldn't be complete without a lap around Silverstone or Spa. Two of the most famed races on the calendar book end the summer racing schedule (and the month long break). In what has been an exciting season, it is starting to look eerily similar to last year's final results, much to the disgust of my pre-season prediction. But anything can happen over the next few months, especially with another 8 races to come after this.

Wimbledon: June 24 - July 7

Is he smiling about winning or Andy crying?

Capping off our European vacation is the most fabled of all the events, Wimbledon. There are just as many questions as possibilities at the All England Club this year. Can Roger win one more? Will Nadal's knees hold up? Can Murray avenge the loss and tears of last July? Will Serena continue her amazing run after winning the French Open 11 years after her first win?

So many questions, but one thing is clear. On the night of June 30, we can celebrate the end of financial year in style by watching Wimbledon, the Tour and the British Grand Prix. Any money on Cavendish to win that day?

US Sports: NBA Finals & Stanley Cup - June

Spurs v Miami. The prince and the pauper. The glitz and glamour versus the tried and tested. The new big three versus the old big three. Patty Mills towel waving against Juwan Howard's high fives. This is the title that makes Tim Duncan one of the best five players ever or makes LeBron's season one of the greatest ever.

Currently it's 2-2 thanks to some Tony Parker heroics, two blow outs and the big three living up to their reputation today in San Antonio. As I wrote last week, the fan base is split between those that want to witness greatness in LeBron, or those that want to witness greatness in the Spurs 5 titles over 14 years.

Meanwhile game 1 of Stanley Cup just finished, becoming the fifth longest Stanley Cup game in history after going into triple overtime. Now I could go on about this but in a lockout shortened season, ice hockey deserves nothing more than a shortened mention.

We are witness

We all want to witness greatness. We want to tell our children and grandchildren that we were there for it. We want to tell stories of Bradman, Tulloch, Laver and Ian Stewart as our grandparents did. We want to replicate our parent's tales of Senna, Seve, Meninga and Magic.

It's why every new champion, number one draft, group 1 winner or first time major winner is the next big thing. It's the driving force behind the overuse of champion, legend, superstar and worst of all the greatest of all time in the media. It's the reason we compare Federer to Laver, Woods to Nicklaus, LeBron to Jordan, Phelps to Sptiz and Sugar Ray to Mayweather. We feel compelled to believe that we are watching something truly special. That we are witnessing will be something worth telling people about.

Is 17 in total better than the slam 7 years apart?

For this generation, my generation, it is why Federer, Woods, Vettel, Black Caviar, Warne and Messi are all so important. As grand slams, spring carnivals and world cups pass we hope once more that they can add to their list of accomplishments so our case strengthens, so that our stories to be retold get that little bit better. We don't want to tell our grand kids about the third best batsmen of the 2000's or the boxer who almost never lost. We want to tell them as we are walking along a fairway, "I saw Tiger Woods break Jack Nicklaus' major record". As we hit a volley back over the net we want to tell them about the great Roger Federer and how he made it to ten straight grand slam finals. As we bowl to them in the backyard we want to say how effortlessly Ponting scored or how far Warne spun it.

All of which leads to my point for today. When the Miami Heat take on the Indiana Pacers today it will test the theory of greatness, and it is only fitting that the man who we are all witness to is behind it.

Even before he was an NBA player, LeBron Raymond James was the next Michael Jordan. He was anointed King James before he'd won an MVP or a ring. As the years passed, the hype built, the stories unfolded and the man became more of a story than a player. But between the headlines, the disappointment (for some) and the fanfare, lurked one of the most talented and powerful athletes our generation, or any generation has seen. At 6' 8" (2.03m) and 250lb (113kg) he has the speed of Folau, the strength of Inglis and the touch of Federer.

Despite this, the only thing the sporting world focuses on, wrongly or rightly, are his titles. It's not his skill or talent, but the titles that many of us use to determine if he is the greatest of all time. In the same way Mark Webber is judged by his lack of world championships, not the fact he is one of only 3 Australian's to win a Grand Prix, let alone 9. It's Cadel Evans being criticised for a bad Tour after winning the year before. It's Sam Stosur 'crashing' out of the French Open in the third round. Deep down it's not that we are disappointed in the result, it's that we wanted to see them do so much more, so we could say we saw it.

How can we evaluate one against the other when we didn't see both?

If only we were to take a step back and enjoy what James, and all those like him, achieves every day. On the court we should marvel at Federer's technique and Nadal's precision, not wonder if their best days are behind them. This July we should be in awe of a Tour de France hero, the Australia II of our generation, instead of wondering why he isn't winning again. As Hawthorn and Geelong go about their winning ways we shouldn't compare them to the Lions, Hawks and Demons of old, but enjoy watching these teams at their peak, proving that there is something close to perfect football.

So tomorrow, when LeBron's Miami, take on my team from Indiana, do I side with the team I loosely follow, or do I side with the possibility of witnessing greatness? It is the same question we will all ask ourselves many times as a sports fan. And if you are anything like me, we all want to witness.

A tie is like kissing your sister

'A tie is like kissing your sister...'
Eddie Eedelatz, Navy football coach 1953

I wish the rest of that quote was known as it probably would make Eddie's place in history a little different. Scrolling through the post match interview's and press conferences of the Swans/Dockers and Storm/Sea Eagles game I didn't stumble across Eddie's famous phrase, but the crowd outside certainly knew it.

I attended my token Dockers game of the season when they visited Sydney on Saturday night, quietly confident of a win even given the injury list at the club. The game was an opportunity to go the SCG for the first time, to tick it off the sporting bucket list. The ground was everything I imagined minus to confusing arrangement of one exit after the game. From the Members Pavilion and Ladies Stand with the flags flying and the moon rising above them; to the famous names adorning the stands, the likes of Churchill, O'Reilly, Trumper and Brewongle (only non sportsman's name) proudly standing tall; to the list of Bloods members in the concourse. If you block out the construction work at one end you can appreciate what a ground this is, a perfect blend of old and new.

Saturday night marked a historic night for the Fremantle Football Club as they secured their first ever draw. Did it feel like a historic night? No! It felt like despair, hope, excitement, disappointment and relief all rolled into one. No sooner had the game finished than the 'what ifs' began (the biggest being what if the two old Fremantle supporters hadn't left when we were 27 points down to catch an early flight). What if Michael Walters hadn't been injured forcing Lyon to put Johnson down forward? What if Sam Reid, who couldn't catch a cold all year hadn't taken that mark? What if I hadn't convinced myself we would win the game with 12 seconds left?

It is a strange phenomenon the old draw. We live in a society that feels the need to force a result or create a winner. Yet here we are with neither. The AFL has never had the pressure that the NRL faced to implement extra time. Not even the 2010 Grand Final could change that sentiment (sorry Dad). On Saturday night as the siren sounded the crowd didn't know how to react. For the 22,546 in attendance it wasn't a win but it wasn't a loss. There was no song to sing, no high fives to be given and everyone would have left happier if there team had won.

Yet as I left the ground my own thoughts were echoed by those around me. Dockers and Swans fans alike weren't complaining about the draw. Most were simply relieved their team hadn't lost, not that they didn't win. They were talking about what could have been, what might of happened, what didn't happen and of course what should of happened.

On the way home as the bus wound down Oxford Street I realised how fortunate I was to witness a draw. Before Saturday night Fremantle's win loss record was 170 wins and 233 loses. It had taken them 404 games to get a draw. On top of that there is only a draw every 95 games in the AFL.

Then before I could finish my story the Storm and Manly followed suit. At 8-8 the likelihood of a draw was slim given they still had golden point. Even heading into golden point at 10-10 I was still confident of a result, given that in the 72 games that have ever gone to golden point 61 have had a result and only 11 have ended in a draw. Of the 61 games 14 have been decided by a try, 7 by a penalty and 40 by a field goal. Even starker is the fact that the last 21 matches that have gone to golden point have been decided off the boot and not through a try.

The worst thing with golden point is that you spend the whole time worrying about your team not losing than you are about them winning the game. This goes against everything we should be doing as a sports fan. As Gus Gould points out, it doesn't seem fair that a team that looses in golden point gets the same points as a team that gets beaten by 50.

On this night at least I didn't have to worry the win or loss, as the 15% roughie came through and we got a draw. I don't know what Tom Waterhouse's odds would have been, but I would have loved to of seen the odds for both games ending in a draw. Given that 0% of Fremantle games had previously ended in a draw and 1.2% of Storm games had, I'd say they were longer than a those for a truthful statement in the More Joyous saga.

All of this raises the long discussed over the water cooler question of whether a draw or extra time is the right choice. In the NBA they play till they pass out or someone wins, likewise in ice hockey and baseball. In soccer a draw is a draw (however the sport can have a 0-0 scoreline). The NRL is based on the NFL model, where if extra time doesn't work its a draw.

So has the weekend changed my view on draws? Yes. Now, even more so than last week, I support the idea of a draw. You play the game to the end. As a player you know when time is winding down. You throw your body on the line and go the extra mile to ensure your team wins.

For both of these games no team deserved to lose. Who deserved to win? Well that's up to the fans and the commentators. For once we have to accept that there isn't a result, and as the Storm proved, some times no amount of extra time can change that.