We hit the highway and I opened Rita’s throttle in second gear, that marvellous Triumph 1050 triple hit 8000 with a magnificent rasping howl and I thought: “Wow! Does it get any better than this?”

It did today.  

A beautiful autumn afternoon, a win to the reserves and feeling quietly confident the Monaros' (as I like to call the GIANTS) chances in the big one. The game was preceded by a parade of local junior clubs’ staff and players and each player announced themselves on the big screen as representing a local club; a lovely touch and one that illustrates the effort GWS are putting in to the grassroots.

Winning the toss is a good start, but the first quarter didn’t look too good. The Hawks, in a remarkable away strip that looked like they’d dribbled food on themselves, displayed their “silky left-foot skills” and ran up stats. The ball spent a lot of time in their forward half for just two goals.

There was a sense of the two teams testing each other, waiting to see what chinks might be exposed. A two goal lead to the visitors at the first break wasn’t particularly disheartening.

A few minutes into the second and a four goal lead was starting to dishearten some, though Nick Haynes’ speccie brought joy to the heart. Out of the centre after the sixth Hawthorn goal, JC marked running with the flight and kicked truly and the Monaros started to play with more assurance. Oh, JC’s kick into the man on the mark wasn’t too assured, but McCarthy laid a great tackle in the forward line a couple minutes later and goaled from the free.

Now it’s just nine points the difference. A quick break off halfback – I love it when that works right – another goal to JC, a goal to Treloar and we’re in front.

Five straight goals against Hawthorn, the reigning premiers, who seem a bit slow, maybe even bamboozled, five straight goals!

Then the long break and some mob named Justice Crew sounded exactly like I thought they would. I’m not sure what the point of this is. Did anyone, wallowing in indecision, say, “Wow, Justice Crew! That’s it, I’m going to the Showground!”

Hawthorn, ears burning from a Clarko spray, kicked three goals early in the Premiership Quarter before JC kicked another two. Scully chipped in and there was a rush of goals in the next few minutes, not all of them ours.

Still, Perky Girl and I were getting to practise our new goal celebration – throw your arms in the air, yell “Yeah!” and do a chest bump. Eleven times by the last break, in no small part thanks to the pace on display. It’s a wonderful thing to watch these youngsters streaming downfield, sharing the ball, especially when they kick truly.

A tense few minutes at the start of the last term, until the free-that-wasn’t gifted the Hawks a goal and a 16-point lead. There’s still plenty of time and we’re playing well, with confidence and flair and hard-working grit. Goals to young Jimmy Stewart (it’s a wonderful life, isn’t it?) JC, and Griff, we’re in front again! Chest bumping with glee, oh yeah!

And then the behinds mounted. Three or four straight, at least, after kicking 14.6 to that point. Come on, boys, don’t blow it now.  

They didn’t. The northern end was the scoring end and we kicked five straight in the last for a win that will live long in the hearts of the Orange Crush.

Perky Girl and I had a few celebratory chest bumps and a ten year old boy came over to us, threw his arms up and stuck his chest out, so we bumped some more. Maybe we’re starting something here, imagine the crowd chest-bumping after we win our first final this September.

It was great to see a big young forward kick seven goals, great to see a fast, skilful team setting it up for him. The recruiting of seasoned players has balanced things out.  It was particularly good to see Griff live – he’s copped some flak this season, but his game isn’t about numbers so much as grunt work, clearing a path for his younger teammates.

Crikey, I’m enjoying this season. Things are really coming together, the strip colours seem to have been tweaked a little, it’s a much more harmonious combination and I like the slightly silly Cossacky song. I’ve thrown in my lot with this team, but there’s still a few things I’d like to tweak.

The nickname ‘GIANTS’ is bland, derivative and meaningless. The nickname ‘Monaros’ is none of these. Quite simply, we should be the Monaros.

First, it is an indigenous word for the area south of Canberra. Second, third, the word sounds good. Say it out loud – Monaro. Notice how it flows easily, unlike ‘GIANTS’ which has all the elegance of JC kicking into the man on the mark.

Whatever legal issues surround this should be easily resolved. It’s not like GM-H is gonna be using it again. By doing so, GWS can lay claim to a large chunk of NSW. It’s a unique opportunity, to make a bold regional reach. It’d also be good to get people to refer to the team as West (as we do North). It’s a short, sharp word. GWS sounds a bit clumsy, more an acronym than an identity.

Back on Rita, we rode home swiftly and very happily. Back in the Top Four. If only for the evening, but a 4-2 start is at least as good as all but one team this season.

“Go you Monaros, GO!”

Earl O’Neill was born in Sydney, grew up around Bankstown and was the only kid in his class to know that there were two drawn Grand Finals in 1977. His preferred seat is about 10-15 rows back on the right half-forward flank at the northern end of Spotless Stadium.

More GWS stories, and other fan-writing can be found on the GIANTS page at www.footyalmanac.com.au