NOT AGAIN boys!

I am yet to see a win ‘live’ this season after missing the Saints game, with many of our losses producing an eerie sense of déjà vu.

When the miserable, wet weather set in on Sunday, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recalled the last time we played in the rain at home.

And, as our lead capitulated, I overheard someone sitting in our front-row question where Simon Black and Jonathan Brown were in the last quarter, as flashbacks of the Brisbane loss earlier in the season began surfacing in my mind. During both matches we had seemingly unassailable three-quarter time leads but we failed to get the points. And during both matches, I was confident that having to wear my poncho meant the game was sealed.

When the heavens opened and I opened my black, white and teal poncho, it brought back the rather pungent odour of the Lions loss, which may have been an ominous sign. The smell immersed in it by the rain – and also from the barbecue sauce I spilled on the inside of it when Daniel Bradshaw kicked one of his 5 goals in Round 4 – was back as Carlton dominated the final quarter and won the game.

From where I sat, it was difficult to explain why we ‘stopped’ again, and allowed the Blues to kick 7 last quarter goals, while not kicking a single one ourselves. That didn’t prevent us from trying to come up with a reason though! Everything from an inability to win in the wet, to struggling against teams that wear predominantly white were suggested, with every theory disputed by someone else in our front-row group.

The finish to the match was excruciating to watch because from behind the fence, we could do nothing but scream until our lungs went teal blue. Our supporters found little to clap about late in the game, and like me, many would have been sitting on their hands to keep them warm, hoping for some Motlop magic or one of Rodan’s wonderful runs, just so they could use them.

I thought the break in play for Paul Stewart to be stretchered off the ground might have allowed us to re-establish our ascendancy.

But it wasn’t to be.

When the siren went I did stay to watch Fevola's shot at goal, hoping that it might miss for Bobby Carlile's sake... and so I could vent my frustration at the dreadlocked full-forward, as I walked up the steps towards the stadium's exit.

Watching it sail through for a goal does show how unjust football can be. In a game where I hardly spotted Fev and he was towelled up by the ever-improving Bobby, it rubbed salt into the gaping wound to have him seal the result.

As we look ahead to playing the Cats this week, Dom Cassisi’s match-winning goal in our spine-tingling Round 21 defeat of Geelong away from home last year seems oh so long ago.

Yet I can’t help but think of what this club has done with its back to the wall in recent times. The gutsy semi final wins over Essendon to follow up those qualifying final losses in 2002 and 2003. A win in Tassie a week after our first 100+ loss in 100+ years. Even this year we won the week following our Brisbane fade away.

Call me delusional if you like. But I figure it’s part of what makes us great. Well, that and it helps me sleep.

Matt the Member