The cybergame

Tim Lane calls it "the match-up of the season". The headline in the Saturday morning "Age" trumpets the "Battle for Top Finals Berth". Rex Hunt raves about the "smell of finals on the horizon wafting across the commentary box like a bucketful of snapper".

It’s four weeks from the first finals game, two teams evenly matched, coaching honours shared, both contingents heading towards a spot in the top three. And the memory of the first encounter in April – a snap over the shoulder by Essendon captain James Hird at the thirty minute mark of the last quarter to salvage a draw ten seconds before the siren, ninety thousand fans stunned in momentary disbelief.

Now they meet again.

It is a study in contrasts – one coach, in his twentieth year at the club, renowned for on-field changes and lateral thinking, the other a traditionalist who has taken teams to the top of the mountain on four previous occasions.

Two players are crucial to the dreams that fuel the players and supporters in 2000 – Anthony Barracouta, an Adonis adored by Carlton supporters for his athleticism and sheer brute strength; and Essendon’s 22 year old centre half-forward Shawn "Bomber" Evans, a skilful player with the strength and courage of a young Dermott Brereton, leading most media awards and considered to be the front runner for the Brownlow Medal (and a favourite with teenage girls and their mothers). Two months previously he had signed an exclusive contract with the leading sports management consultants International Sports Management (known as ISM).

The Australian Chief Executive Officer of ISM had candidly revealed that a Brownlow would be worth a million dollars in sponsorship deals.

"If he has a successful season," he said at the press conference to announce the deal, "we should be able to set him up for life."

Later, in a private discussion with the young champion, the CEO had been far less amiable: "remember the golden rules – don’t get injured, don’t get suspended, don’t do anything to upset the mothers," he warned, referring to the wholesome image that would soon adorn a breakfast cereal packet and a famous brand of soft drink.

Something happens…

It’s the twenty-seven minute mark of the second quarter, the ball is on the Essendon half-forward line, the Bombers three points ahead in a furious encounter.

Carlton utility Craig "Broady" Broadbent grabs the ball, balks around a couple of Essendon players, and spins out of trouble. Just as he gets boot to ball he is grabbed by Essendon’s full back Dustin "Pants" Fletcher-Jones (moved by the coach to full forward in a typically eccentric move), who brings him to the ground.

The ball goes 30 feet straight up in the air, and a dozen players, including Broadbent, pounce fearlessly as it hits the MCG turf, arms and legs flying – the whistle blows and the umpire Rodney Shanahan signals he will bounce the ball.

Broadbent marches to the umpire and remonstrates, pointing to Bomber Evans, "That bugger hit me," he yells, wincing in pain and rubbing the side of his head.

Evans seems genuinely astonished (though one commentator will later say he deserved an Academy Award). He holds his arms out in a gesture of innocence, "Fair dinkum, I never touched him!" Glaring at another Carlton player, the rugged half back flanker "Bluey" McLaren, he does some pointing of his own. "Bluey’s the one that hit him," Evans protests to the umpire. "He fell on Broady".

There is support for both points of view – 30,000 Carlton supporters rise as one and question the parentage of the umpire; 40,000 Essendon supporters applaud the umpire’s decision to bounce the ball as sensible and utterly fair.