I could have written this a week ago, if the Boss had let me. Swans! Swans for God's sake! It was a given that the doggies would rip the feathers off 'em - that's what we do to birds that flap around and honk, given half a chance.
They call themselves 'The Bloods' to try and pump themselves up, but you can smell them a mile off - flapping, honking birds are what they are.
The Boss wouldn't entertain a doggies' win. You'd reckon with me, his loyal minder at his side, ready to defend him like the fearsome hound I am - well, except when there's food in the offing - he'd know that dogs aren't to be messed with.
The Missus kept saying all week she reckoned they could do it, having murdered her beloved Cats (as we do, and the doggies did) and said nothing would stop them. She even relented to watch the Telly on a Saturday afternoon for a game not including Cats. Never seen it before, in all my two years.
But the Boss said they'd reached the end of their run - the Swans had finals experience, he said. They could kick straighter, mark better, keep calm, open up to find their man, but most of all they would start out with a withering fifteen minutes that would have the doggies licking their wounds and wondering where the ball was.
He reckoned Buddy would nail a couple in the first five minutes and sap the doggies' will. Kennedy would drive the game from the center and no doggy could match him.
He said he didn't want this to happen but the missus had to face reality. I didn't believe him on that, of course. You know something? He used to be a Lemnos fan back when he was a kid and had another dog, a black lab called Pepper, who used to ply the back yards around Leahy Street and Dunkirk Avenue, nicking food and leaving dark parcels on peoples' lawns. Someone got fed up with him, laid him a bait and that put an end to him. The Boss says it will happen to me, the way I eat anything.
Anyway, the Boss says he used to take Pepper to the Lemnos games at the old Showgrounds - and they were Swans weren't they? Flapping, honking Swans. And he followed South Melbourne after that. Reckoned he couldn't forgive them when they went to Sydney and he changed to Richmond - but at heart he has to be a closet Swans supporter. Flapping, honking Swans.
So there he was, winding himself up during the first quarter, saying 'Jesus' and 'amazing' a lot, shaking his head at quarter time. 'They held them off,' he said. I could have told him that.
By half time he had to get himself a beer, and another at three quarter time. Kept jumping out of his chair, like it was a surprise or something. I barked once or twice to tell him to calm down, but all he would say is 'You won't believe this, General.' When I could have told him in the first place. If he'd listened.
Now this went on for the whole game, with the Boss getting louder and shouting. Talking about miracles and fairly-tales. Five minutes from the end he's yelling 'They're home, they're home!' I mean, I'm shaking my head. Waiting for him to say 'I suppose you knew they would, General,' but he didn't give me the satisfaction.
It's not easy dealing with dumb humans. You have to lead them along, one lesson at a time. Woof.