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

What if Tony Liberatore's 'behind' had been called a goal in the 1997 Preliminary Final?

As a side that has never finished any of their 96 top flight seasons as minor premiers, and one that has only managed to past the post first on just a pair of occasions, the Dogs, and their loyal fart of fans, have become well acquainted with the dimensions of the competition's cellar.

Yet, after a 1996 season that became famous for a coaching spill, the possibility of yet another staved merger and their replacement coach publicly announcing that near enough being celebrated as good enough was enough to make him sick, Footscray shed their suburban title and entered 1997 as the Western Bulldogs.

Having finished above only the ravaged Roys the year prior, dreams of September were hardly likely to be commonplace as the rebranded club commenced their Ansett Cup campaign against reigning premiers, North Melbourne. But by the time the bye had arrived in late June, spirits at the Whitten Oval were as high as their ladder footing.

Despite dropping their opening game of the season in heartbreaking fashion to the Dockers at Princes Park, the Bulldogs had won eight of their next 11-matches to sit a game clear atop the AFL ladder.

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Although the Dogs' fortunes would eventually dip between late July and early August, they bit and roared their way through the regular season's final month to earn both a double chance and a date with the Swans in the Qualifying Final.

Following masterclasses by midfielders Scott West and Leon Cameron, and a tidy day in front of the big sticks from James ‘Captain' Cook, the team of the West had booked their first Preliminary Final berth since 1992 after smashing the Swans by just shy of six-goals.

Their opponents following a week off? The fourth-placed Crows.

While a ticket to partake in the festivities of the last Saturday in September had alluded the Dogs for over three-decades by that stage, the postie charged with cycling up and down the aptly named Barkly Street in the mid-90's appeared likely to be carrying precious cargo by the time the siren had sounded for half-time.

With West once again finding the Sherrin at will, Cook's mainsail as full as a harvest moon, the scoreboard showing them more than five-goals to the good, the Terry Wallace led club appeared destined for the big dance for the first time since the Berlin Wall was erected.

Whether complacency crept in as they tucked into orange wedges in the bowels of the Southern Stand, I'm not sure, but across the perennially referred to premiership quarter, the Pups were outscored 4.4 to 3.1 by the careering Crows.

No matter though, at 22-points up by the time that kangaroo leather met turf to start the final term, surely, the damage had been done.

In spite of the deficit they faced, the previously wayward Crows began to correct themselves, with the Dogs seeming desperate to catch their opponent's disease.

After a Jose Romero poster, a Brett Montgomery miss from the top of the square and Chris Grant spurning a chance to waltz into goal, the ball fell at the feet of possibly the most pugnacious Bulldog to ever don a red, white and blue jumper.

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Despite claiming the honour of being named the best under-19s prospect in 1984, Tony Liberatore was told by North Melbourne that he was too small to ever dream of wearing blue and white stripes in the seniors.

After departing Arden Street and making the short journey west down Dynon Road, ‘Libba' was twice named as the best and fairest player in the VFL's reserves competition. Although decorated, it would take until his 1990 Brownlow medal for the 163cm terrier to truly be estimated correctly.

However, by the time that Footscray's disastrous 1996 campaign had ended, Liberatore's future with the club appeared non-existent.

In the much loved behind the scenes film ‘The Year of the Dogs' that documented the dispiriting season, the club's coaching staff could be seen discussing the merits of resigning the midfielder for another year before eventually offering him a substantially smaller deal.

Perhaps the cut-priced contract that the son if Italian immigrants eventually inked was due to the fact that there were minimal other interested parties for his services across the league, or maybe, the move was designed to spur the man who had used rejection and denigration as ammunition for retaliation.

Either way, by the time that Liberatore had plonked the ball on his boot and sent it gliding through the fading sunlight towards the Ponsford end goals, his exoneration was all but completed.

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In spite of the fact that the cherry-red ovoid appeared to drop through the big sticks and extend the perennial battler's lead to 28-points, the man clad in a butcher's coat and Panama hat only pointed a singular finger.

Was he right to do so? Not according to the pint-sized Pup, who had climbed higher than Charlie Sheen across the torso of Montgomery and into the arms of Paul Hudson. Yet, even if the Doggies were dudded, their lead still sat at just under four straight kicks with plenty of time already expired in the final quarter.

Still, as downtrodden sides tend to do, the Bulldogs collapsed to eventually fall short by two-points after Darren Jarman slotted three and a pair shared by Nigel Smart and Simon Goodwin forcibly removed their opponent's paw from the accelerator pedal.

The Dogs did had their chances through the dreadlocked Mark West and the previously effervescent Chris Grant, but as their respective kicks sailed wide and were smothered, the team of the mighty west's season was scuppered.

I know this will hurt for you backers of the Bulldog breed, but I have to ask to obvious question – what if the goal umpire had agreed with Liberatore and had signaled a goal instead?

By the time the then 31-year-old had, in his view, been short changed five-points, there was still 11-minutes and two-seconds left on the clock. Even if the ball had returned to the centre for Luke Darcy and Shaun Rehn to do battle, had ‘Libba's miss been marked as a major, the Crows would have required a goal every 90-seconds to take the lead.

Now, as was witnessed first by Bulldogs fans, and then their St Kilda supporting counterparts a week later, Darren Jarman proved himself to be a second-half wizard across that September. Nevertheless, even if Wallace's defense had continued leaking like a sieve, a goal every minute-and-a-half was almost certainly outside the realms of possibility even for him.

With this in mind, had Liberatore's luck come in on the 20^th of September 1997, then so would have a pass to face the Saints in a contest that would have guaranteed rain in one of two places where arid soil and empty wells were the norm.

But would the Dogs have won?

Having finished atop the ladder that season, and having knocked off the premiers from the season before less than 24-hours earlier, the Saints would have been red-hot favourites throughout this alternative Grand Final week.

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Still, had the pain of Chris Grant's unlucky Brownlow ‘loss' been distilled and injected, and if their Round 13 form that saw them top the Saints by 17-points at Waverley was able to be replicated, then a bastardized version of a naval ditty could well have been blaring from the tannoy once the final siren had sounded.

Although Tony Liberatore could count himself wildly unlucky in the Bulldogs' final game of the 1997 season, the penultimate hurdle that he was unable to hop was cleared by his taller son nearly 20-years later.

Although Tony Liberatore could count himself wildly unlucky that a premiership medal never joined his Brownlow, Morrish and pair of Gardiners on his mantle, you can be sure that his son achieving the ultimate prize for the club where he made his name was as close to nirvana as he could hope to imagine.