Excitables,
The sandbagging worked a treat, just as it always would.
All bets are off when it comes down to business time.
[Still, couldn't believe the books installed the Crows as clear cut favourites. Fools! The smart east coast money had 'em for breakfast].
Just one win out of the last game of the year, to be sure.
Everything about it said the Football Dept had spent many many long hours pouring over the gin-soaked plans in the smoke-filled boardroom.
A very clever ruse by Coach Horse to pick Lewis "The Ugliest Man in Football" Roberts-Thompson in the forwards for much of the latter part of the season, only to then play him in the back pocket in this one.
LRT was told to go back and help out his old mate Teddy Richards, and they did a masterly job of just sitting on the football all day and restricting the opposition to, let's see, five goals all match.
Rhino Keefe with a bandaged head after being blood binned looked the battle-hardened part, while Son of Gary Jack was, as always, the point man through the mid-field - they might as well as given him a whistle to say 'kick it to me' as he ranged the ball down to full forward.
The Hannebery Kiddie just speaks for himself, week in week out, without saying a word.
Josh P Kennedy, of course, has been worth his weight in gold and had yet another sterling outing - would have been in the Brownlow votes yet again if any were on offer, which they weren't.
They're already in the dilly bag.
But perhaps, best of all, was that quintessential all-round club man Marty Matter giving his old club, who foolishly and most ungraciously let him go after he'd played 98 games for the Crows, the bird.
115 games later at Sydney, he's more than entitled and quite within in his rights, on the balance of things, to say to the Adelaide crowd "cop that! up yours!".
That must have been very sweet for a bloke who was very shabbily discarded, only to be swiftly rescued from the AFL dumpster by the Swans in trade week.
Seeing In Like McGlynn weeping on the bench after he'd done a hammy wasn't a particularly edifying sight, but suppose that hiding your humanity would be a bit difficult under the circumstances, knowing in yourself that you're gorn with a season-ender, and you won't be playing in the Grand Final; no cigar after such a year of solid hard work.
He was subbed off to Sick Bay with Mitch "Who?" Morton, the only Swans player in the match who'd not played in a final, and the only teenager on the ground.
Did well, and kicked two goals to boot!
The youngster must be thinking how lucky he is - talk about a saloon passage to a flag after playing but a handful of games in the Big Time - dragged in on the coat-tails of the greats.
As the Greater Western Pygmies will tell you, this is no place for boys - only grown men need apply.
To show just how good the Swans defence is, the Stats Guru was quick to point out that the Adelaide score of 5.12 was their lowest of the season, and the Crows worst score of any of their 27 finals appearances.
The Guru also mentioned that the Swans have been very busy through the mid-field and upfront, with only two players featuring in the list of the top 25 goal kickers at the end of the regular season.
And who are they?
Jetta and Goodes, and they're both well down that list.
Reckon those two fellas have found alchemy when they work so sweetly together.
Everything they've touched in recent weeks has turned to gold.
It was remarkable to see The Train outrun a couple of should-be speedier Crows players, as if he's found an extra leg in his old age, after losing a yard or two over the last couple of seasons.
The surgeon seems to have done a miracle job this time around.
The long and the short of it is everyone in the squad has seemingly kicked a goal or two through the year and the backline is nailed down flat.
It might not be spectacular, or even very pretty, but jeez, it's clinically effective.
It's neither here nor there who the Swans play in the Prelims.
West Coast, of course, would be most preferable - there's history going on with that mob, and they are, after all, one-all - and that would necessitate the Weagles making two, long road trips - across to the MCG this weekend to play the Pies, and then to Sydney the next, if they make it.
Collingwood hold no fears on the evidence of the last outing against them a few weeks back, but boy, it'd be a dour, miserable, low scoring affair that'd be almost completely devoid of spectacle.
So, cheer, cheer the Weagles.
What goes on in the other half of the draw doesn't really matter, either.
Fremantle go across the Nullabor, but stop halfway to the east coast, to play in Adelaide.
Whoever wins will then go to the MCG to be stomped on like ants by Hawthorn.
However, if you throw all form out the window and look at it askance, there are seemingly still no end of tasty possibilties in prospect - as one of my correspondents on the other side of the island transmitted "what about an all WA Grand Final, then?"
But, with the engineering and sandbagging that's been going on, it looks for all the world like a Swans v Hawks Grand Final has been pre-ordained.
In reality - which is a good place to be - just can't imagine any other match up, as, by rights, the two best teams in the comp should be meeting in the big dance.
That's how business time is usually arranged.
My Spy at the ground sent through a telegraph message close to the end of what up until that point had been a goal-less Championship Quarter "Crows are too busy beating themselves to win the game".
Yep, that's curtains.
Handling the week off during the pointy end of the season is always a tricky challenge for the Football Dept.
What do you do with them if they're not playing?
The curse of the finals bye has been well noted in the past, so it'd probably be best to roast a piglet over some slow burning charcoal and put on a keg for players as they put their feet up.
In athletics and swimming it's called tapering.
In footy, finding the key to that rest and relaxation, rather than being tired and emotional and playing the next game in your head over and over, can be elusive.
I'm sure Mr Ed would be telling them "don't let the nervous tension get to you, forget about football for a week, and just chill."
Everyone, take a deep breath.
SYDNEY: 2.2 7.2 8.4 11.5 (71). Goals: Goodes 3, Jetta 2, Morton 2, McGlynn, Kennedy, Parker, Reid.
ADELAIDE: 1.3 2.7 3.10 5.12 (42). Goals: Johncock, Callinan, van Berlo, Sloane, Walker.
At Football Park, Adelaide.
Crowd: 44,849.
Didn't go into the Front Bar at The Local on Mad Monday after the Mighty Tigers ignoble exit from the rugby league before the finals.
In fact, gave the joint a wide berth for a few days on account of the ridicule wasn't worth copping and in the full knowledge that everyone would soon forget that it ever happened.
No one ever remembers who didn't make September.
The Philosopher obviously looked like he'd lost all interest in football as he sat in his usual corner.
On approach, he lifted his head from the racing pages of the Daily Terror, pushed his glasses down to the tip of his nose and peered over this week's favoured tipple, a Russian Standard vodka and tonic in a highball with a twist of lemon, and said "at least the Swans are doing alright, aren't they?".
And then resumed his study of the Caulfield Cup weights.
Enough said.
