This Could Only Happen to St Kilda

Every AFL club supporter says some version of “this only happens to us”.

 

It’s a common phraseology across 17 of the AFL’s 18 clubs, outside of Hawthorn who nothing bad ever happens to, and if it does, it doesn’t happen often enough for them to develop a complex.

 

I barrack for Richmond, and from 2000-2017 I genuinely thought we were cursed.

 

My personal nadirs were:

·      the Karmichael Hunt game,

·      the Ben Cousins hamstring,

·      Tambling over Buddy, and

·      the three on or after the siren losses in 2017 against the Dogs, Dockers, and Giants.

 

That last one really hurt because I thought we could do something special that year, prior to those losses.

Anyway.

 

The point is that we all think that our club is uniquely unlucky, when really footy is an unpredictable game and crazy shit is built into the fabric of it.

 

The idea that “this only happens to us” is generally misguided.

 

Unless you’re St Kilda.

 

If you look through just the last 30 years of St Kilda history, ignoring the fact that foundation club that started in 1897 that has only won one premiership, you can see that they have walked around like Sideshow Bob stepping on rakes.

 

Granted, they laid some of the rakes themselves, like taking Jack Billings and Paddy McCartin over Bont and Christian Petracca in consecutive years. Or going back further, the fact that they turned Tony Lockett’s 183 games and 898 goals into one winning final before he left.

 

But in others, it was pure misfortune from their perspective, or genius from another. Either, St Kilda misery often comes with its own shorthand: the the Milne bounce, the Scarlett toe poke, and the Jarman miracle in the 1997 grand final.

 

All of that brings us to today.

 

If they fail to retain Nasaiah Wanganeen-Milera, that would be the ultimate example of “this only happens to us”. 

 

They cannot let it happen.

 

I can’t think of a single player who is as close to as good as Wanganeen-Milera leaving without signing a second contract with the drafting club. The best comparison is Jason Horne Francis leaving North, but he didn’t even get to the last year of his deal before forcing his way out, nor is he half the player Wanganeen-Milera is.

 

It would be unprecedented, and it would seriously impact the fabric of the club.

 

Over the last 5 weeks, Wanganeen-Milera is averaging a little over 34 disposals a game at 22m/disposal. Next to that, he’s getting over 6 clearances a game, has kicked better than a goal a game, and is involved in 37.5% of St Kilda’s scores which is second in footy over the period.

 

But the numbers don’t even vaguely do him justice. 

 

For as long as I can remember, even on their good teams, the Saints were mostly honest triers with a couple of talismanic players who weren’t always the most polished. They’re historically about the Lenny Hayes types, where the beauty lies nestled in the brutality of their games.

 

Nas is different. He’s silky and aggressive with ball in hand. He’s like Ra’s al Ghoul doing swordplay, where his game with ball in hand would be beautiful if it wasn’t so terrifying.

 

He has that thing that Scott Pendlebury has where defenders seem to just melt around him. They are so petrified of what he might do with the ball to the point that they forget that for a player as smart as him, the most valuable commodity is time.

 

But unlike Pendlebury, he’ll run straight through you. He’s explosive and propulsive, while never losing the silk.

 

To underline the point, Wanganeen-Milera is gaining 663 metres per game this season. Since 2012, which is the earliest that the stat goes, Pendlebury has never gained more than 399 metres per game.

 

Wanganeen-Milera perfectly blends the old school need to be clean and tidy with the ball, with the new school need to go forward. He’s like if Pendlebury and Finn Callaghan had a baby.

 

He is the best St Kilda player since Nick Riewoldt, and the best ball user on the Saints since Robert Harvey, who retired in 2008.

 

But the best thing about him is that he’s clutch.

 

In the last two games, the Saints have featured in two “Last Two Minutes” style videos, and in each of them, Wanganeen Milera was responsible for delivering the win.

 

Obviously, we all saw what happened against Melbourne and his two minutes of genius. 

 

But, just as impressive (that’s a lie) was a moment he had against North Melbourne to deliver another win for the Saints. With 56 seconds to go, there was a pocket throw in. The ball went down to where Wanganeen-Milera was running past at full pelt. He bent down and picked up the ball under pressure more easily than I tie my shoes, thanks in part to a great shepherd by Jack Steele, and gave a handball to Hugo Garcia who retained his width from the stoppage.

 

With one more handball the Saints were out of the danger area and the game was won.

 

In a fumbly game, the degree of difficulty of that pickup in the moment is impossible to overstate, and it was shelling peas for Wanganeen-Milera.

 

You can’t overpay a guy who raises his level at money time. As a Richmond fan, I know that to be true more than most.

 

Tom Morris has reported that the Saints have tabled a “final offer” that would be “the most lucrative deal in St Kilda history”. Necessarily that is true. Every year the salary cap goes up. It would be insulting if it wasn’t.

 

The framing of “final offer” is troubling, though. This is no longer the Wanganeen-Milera proving his worth to the Saints. That’s long been proven. The Saints are auditioning for Wanganeen-Milera, and they need to show him a plan.

 

The word is that if he signs, it won’t be for 7-8 years like Dusty signed for Richmond. It’ll be more like two. That isn’t going to hamstring your club, however big it is. Pay it.

 

If it’s eight, that’s even better and you just need to be good about your cap.

 

The point is to find players like him. As Kevin McHale famously said, cap space doesn’t wear a guernsey.

 

The Saints desperately need to make it happen, or risk adding another chapter to the most sordid history in a competition that has made its bones on sordid histories.