Every club’s biggest ‘what if’ moment of the AFL era – Part Five

What if the ball had bounced up for Stephen Milne?

If you have been following this series, you will well and truly understand the premise of these jaunts down memory lane.

If you have been following the game, or the Saints, for any extended period of time, you will also know that there is absolutely nowhere else I can place my scalpel when it comes to the lads from Linton Street.

Although some of the moments I have previously dissected and surgically altered in the first four additions of these entries have had reasonably large impacts on clubs, one cruel bounce of the Sherrin in late September of 2010 has possibly the largest, and clearest, ramifications of them all.

Had the ball bounced up and into the waiting arms of the polarizing Stephen Milne, then the club's trophy cabinet would have been altered and the Sinner's incorrigible narrative of despair would have ceased.

There is almost no denying this.

Irrespective of the fact that it is unprofessional for a scribe to divulge their allegiances, it is here that I must tell you that for almost the entirety of my life, I have prayed at a red, white and black alter.

Although this may skew some of your views, or lead you to believe that mine may be too, I have only alerted you to this point so as to allow for full disclosure – and for some of you to potentially revel in my pain, considering I have prodded at your wounds wantonly of late.

Despite the fact that I have essentially answered my own question within the space of 150-words, I'll pull my socks up, tuck in my bottom lip and attempt to show you how I came to this popular conclusion in the least biased way possible.

However, due to my footballing fidelity, you will have to indulge me at least a little bit.

SEE ALSO: What if Mark Bickley never farted at half-time of the 1993 Preliminary Final?

Still, if your patience is wafer thin already, feel free to click through and find out how the Eagles had rights to the 2005 flag.

Heading into this finals series that is now over a decade in our collective rearview mirrors, the Ross Lyon led Saints had weathered a summer of discontent before surging back into the September action after completing the home and away season with a 15-1-6 record.

Whilst they were unable to repeat their barnstorming form of 12-months prior, the third-placed Bayside boys proved good enough to return to the season's decider after knocking off the Cats and Dogs before their date with destiny against the table-topping Magpies.

In spite of just an eight-point ladder gap between the two warring sides throughout the season's on-field plot, Collingwood and St Kilda were further than just a mathematical distance apart that season, as the Saints were able to compete with their rich rivals despite financial austerity and a home that was eventually, and inadvertently, sans a roof.

Now, even though this can often be completely inconsequential to what takes place within the oval's boundary line, it does help develop a contemporary David versus Goliath narrative, and who doesn't love one of those?

Unless you've been living a microbial life under a rock on the dark side of Mars, you will know that this clash that is under examination ended in a draw – only the third occasion in the then 113-year-old competition's history.

If not, welcome to the world.

Although the ending has been spoilt for any extraterrestrial visitors, I'll quickly bring you up to speed on how this impasse came to pass.

Once the Sherrin was placed into the turf by umpire Brett Rosebery to start the game, and it bounced predictably upwards, it only took a fraction of a minute for the miniscule number of punters who backed Goliath's Darren Jolly to slot the opening major to begin their collective sprint towards the TAB teller.

Just under 13-minutes later, the Pies - thanks to a genuine canine crossbreed off the boot of Dale Thomas - rung up another six-points to stretch the margin to 19-points. At this stage, the Saints' clash jumper clad backs had begun to become one with the proverbial wall.

With the pain of the year prior's loss still burning within them, Lyon's men fought back into the contest. However, had Travis Cloke's tie not tightened in the shadows of half-time, then their efforts may have been for naught.

The perpetually wayward Collingwood big man sprayed a pair of straightforward attempts that would have tucked the Saints in tighter than your mate who phantoms when it's their shout at the pub.

SEE ALSO: What if Nathan Buckley stayed a Bear?

Given an opportunity to continue striving for redemption, a superhuman Hayes, a red-hot Riewoldt, a god-like Goddard and a geographically shifted Gilbert dared St Kilda's loyal band of bruised fanatics to dream again.

As someone spurned many times before, I remember still requiring further salesmanship as the game inched its way to the end of the third stanza.

Still, it wouldn't take long for me to be fully swayed to clutching my chequebook at the ready.

Following Hayes' goal from uptown and Milne's steady set shot to start the fourth term, the league's perennial underachievers had dragged the game back to within touching point of parity. Yet, it would take the first of a pair of betraying bounces to square the ledger for a first time.

With the ball loose inside his side's offensive arc in 19^th minute of the closing quarter, St Kilda skipper Nick Riewoldt snapped across his frame and sent the ball tumbling towards the open Ponsford stand goal mouth.

The ball bounced predictably onwards and then onwards again before, in its infinite wisdom, deciding to sit up long enough for Riewoldt's opposite number, Nick Maxwell, to scrape his fingertips across its leather before it crossed the chalk.

In Christian theology, Christ was deceived three times by the time the rooster crowed.

In a footballing sense, the Saints would be sinned against only after the ball had hoodwinked them twice before the siren blared.

After Goddard's famous climb and goal had cabinet makers pitching their services to the Saints' brass, and Cloke eventually kicked one even he couldn't miss, the cock-a-doodle-doo eventually came for Milne.

With just shy of half-an-hour elapsed, Hayes once again found the footy in his hands. Instinctively, he – like his skipper before him – threw the ball on the boot and hoped for the best.

Ironically, the ball landed on about the same patch of grass that Barry Breen wobbled his famous behind through from 44-years and one-day prior. However, the result would not elicit the same jubilant celebrations from the minority of Saintly backers in the attendance.

SEE ALSO: What if the AFL allowed the Lions to play a home Preliminary Final in 2004?

Hayes' kick made a beeline to the only two players inside forward-50 for the Saints – Collingwood's Ben Johnson and his direct opponent, Milne. The latter edged the former under the football after it had turned like a Shane Warne leg-break with the first bounce. Although it appeared certain to fall into his arms, the Sherrin spun akin to SKW's wrong-un and tumbled through the same posts as Breen's effort for an identical score.

With only seconds left to play in the Grand Final, the scores were tied at 68-points apiece.

From my vantage point, I instantly thought that Milne could have made the moment his.

Plenty of others shared my viewpoint then, with some ardently maintaining their stance to this day.

Still, the man that had a best view of just how unpredictable a football can be sees it differently.

“I had him [Ben Johnson] cooked, but it [the ball] was five metres away from me and I couldn't have dived for it,” Milne told documentary maker Peter Dickson in 2016.

“So, that's why I let it bounce.

“If I could have got it, I would have got it – obviously.”

If we take the small-forward at his word, then a St Kilda victory during regular time appears to have been an impossibility in reality.

However, we're not here to deal in real world matters.

Without delving too deeply into the mechanics of just how incalculable the bounce of a football can be, I'll just briefly surmise that unless you own the innate ability to speak fluent 'Sherrin-ese' like Kevin Bartlett or Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti, then you, like several generations of Australians, have likely been made a fool by the oval object.

Still, what if the Panasonic branded pill had sat up on its point rather than spun viciously like a Beyblade?

Had Milne waltzed into the open goal with ball in hand and slammed the it through the big sticks, there are two certainties that would have occurred within the space of the next two-minutes.

Firstly, you can be sure that the man affectionately referred to as ‘Yapper' would have mouthed off to the Collingwood cheer squad, and secondly, the siren would have signaled just the second premiership for the country's 19th oldest football club.

As sweet as this daydream has always been for me, another question that is worth posing is what would have happened had extra-time been allowed?

For a conclusive answer to this, I'll allow a pair of names who combined for 50-disposals on that fateful day to tell you, rather than subject you to further ramblings from someone who consumed their body weight in tobacco instead.

Despite missing out on the first of two Norm Smith medals to the voiceless Lenny Hayes, Brendon Goddard's 18-kicks, 13-handballs and two-goals during the drawn decider should have, in the eyes of many, seen him claim the honour over his former skipper.

Yet, I'm fairly certain the former number one draft pick would have exchanged it in an instant for a premiership medallion – something he is certain would have been his had the game have continued after every skerrick of regular time had expired.

When asked point blank about this view by Dickson during the documentary 'The Final Draw', Goddard was typically unabashed in his response.

"Another 10 [minutes]? Well, we win," the former Saint and Bomber claimed.

"Another 30-seconds and we win."

Scott Pendlebury – the man who would eventually claim the second Norm Smith on offer in 2010 – begrudgingly held a similar view.

"Another 10-minutes and I reckon they would have probably held up the cup," he admitted.

So, there it is from the mouths of two champions that grew up less than an hours drive apart from one another in country Victoria.

Had any other timeline played out other than the one that eventuated in reality, then for the first time since a pot could be paid for with shrapnel and pubs closed at six, Saints fans would have had a trophy to toast.

But what would it have meant in the aftermath? Would the good times have continued to roll for the Moorabbin men?

SEE ALSO: What if the Bluebaggers were never caught with brown paper bags?

Even had the cup been claimed in 2010, once the mass hangover had subsided in Melbourne's south eastern suburbs, a grim reality would have set in.

Heading into the 2011 season, then St Kilda coach Ross Lyon had a list of 46-players at his disposal. Of this catalogue, four-players had laced the boots on less than 10-occasions and 12 had never played a game of AFL football at all.

Alarmingly, this latter group would only ever combine for 116-games whilst calling St Kilda home - an average of 9.6 matches per head.

As previously stated, St Kilda's financial status could never misconstrued as being it's strength. And according to the then captain of the ship, neither could their optically non-existent recruiting and development teams.

"We had appalling facilities," former CEO Michael Nettlefold stated in 2016.

"[We had] no development program [and] virtually no recruiting program.

"We didn't have the funding [or] the finances to actually have any decent structures in those places."

Having bombed out in an Elimination Final in 2011, the gap between St Kilda and the teams at the peak of the ladder had begun to widen, as had the chasm between the most experienced and inexperienced names on the club's list.

Many haloed clad fans believe this is why Ross Lyon eventually upped and left the club at the cessation of 2011.

As the club was caught in a perilous position of missing out on multiple premierships, dealing with the fallout of salary cap mismanagement and operating without a battle hardened coach at the helm, it was little wonder why the Saints once again slipped into the cellars quickly after the 2010 Grand Final replay.

If this unhinged trip has taught you anything – apart from that fact that I am obviously incapable of moving on from this scene set over a decade ago – it is that even if the ball had sat up for Milne late in the drawn decider, the Saints still appeared to be living on borrowed time at the ladder's tip.

The cash strapped Saints went for an ‘all or nothing' approach in the Lyon era and were eventually left with empty hands – just like the rookie draftee from Essendon's reserves that was denied his shot at glory.

Still, had it paid off at least once, you can be sure that there would still be some sore heads and bloodshot eyes amongst the Saints' congregation of loyal followers.