Nothing lasts these days. Jobs, marriages, Prime Ministerships. Big on promises, short on delivery. About the only thing you could count on these days is Södermalm losing the Grand Final. They have lost the last four. Four years running. Four years is a long time in anything. Especially being Prime Minister.
The Blues have won more games than anyone in the last four years but have nothing to show for it. Except pride. Except spirit. Except the monkey on their back! Sometimes truth needs harder evidence. Concrete evidence. Or silver. When the final siren sounded at the JCG this afternoon, and the drop-in scoreboard, screwed precariously to the cyclone fencing showed Söder 152 points up on the Solna Axemen, no discussion was necessary. The evidence was clear. In the shape of a Premiership cup.
This was a belting. But if we only talk about the game, we’d be missing the point. This was not about Jason Neindorf’s 6 goal, Kingsley-Medal winning haul, or Johnny Briscoe’s 5 goal second half impersonation of Ted Hopkins, or Max Larsson’s Jim Stynes, or Johan Dahlberg’s “best game ever” (as Max Larsson just told me ) or Gaelan Doolan’s second-best-on-ground performance (so he tells me). It wasn’t about Marcus ‘Rappa’ Rappocio’s Scott Pendlebury-like gliding gallops from wing to wing and flank to flank, or forward pocket Chris ‘Tanka’ Tancredi’s contribution of a solitary behind – a mercurial snap from the boundary that clipped the post (so he tells me) – in a score of 167, only to be outscored by back-pocket Andrew Rundle. It wasn’t about 100-game legend Lars ‘Larry’ Hagberg’s quiet but relentless pursuit of the ball or Jonas ‘Hulk’ Holm’s bone-crushing tackles that could be heard from the sidelines (against the wind). The game wasn’t about Oscar Löfgren’s 4 kicks and Matthew Barton’s 6 in a desolate back-line, or Rob Njoku’s battered body finally getting through a whole game, or Kaj Karlsson’s bullocking and thumping kicks or Jonas Raninen’s pre-game prediction that they would win by 100 points. It wasn’t about Martin Winberg’s miss from point blank range. It wasn’t about Fergo going through the game unnoticed. And it wasn’t about the magnificent umpiring (so he tells me) from retired Bromma Viking, Andrew Gillard. And it was definitely not about coach Daniel Jordan’s pre-match address and tactical nous, though he was Barrassi-like (so he tells me).
Not taking the number of Premierships into account, Södermalm is the benchmark of the SAFF. They have more players, more members, more club events than any other. They have a chess club, a fishing club, a homebrewing club, a pool comp and a curling comp. In real terms, they are a social club that happens to play footy. SAFF is a 9-a-side competition. 19 turned up to play in this year’s grand final. 3 less than last year. They keep turning up. They keep coming back. Today, they broke their grand final hoodoo and set a new record for the winning margin in a grand final. But it wasn’t about that.
Södermalm 25.17.167 defeated Solna Axemen 2.3.15.