#while waiting for malcolm and rod to run to them

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[atoddswithmorning]

He’s Back

When David Botana left, there was a giant hole left in the show. None of his characters were ever the “standard” versions.  You could never be bored when watching him in any role, because sometimes you never knew quite what he was going to do next. He was so in sync with the music. But the fact that he actually uses the music as cues/motivation, not just the obvious giant musical moments, but the smaller moments too, not just for his dancing, because that’s obvious, but for his acting, always is fun to spot out.

I am so glad that he is back, and I am so grateful that I happened to be there with friends from out of town to catch him in his first show.

Whenever we take the stair entry I usually wander through Duncan’s room to see who maybe on in there, but for some reason I just went straight to the ballroom.  I had plans for the evening, (HAHA-whenever I have plans, they always go awry) and I just went to sit on one of the pillars. As the party came into full swing, and I took stock of who was on, when all of a sudden I was completely shocked to see that David Botana was Banquo. Of all of the characters for him to walk in as, it was Banquo, which happens to be my favorite.  The air changed in the room, as I jumped up to go to my favorite spot to watch Banquo from, just to the side of the stage.  I’ve only ever triple looped twice before, one of those times happened to be his last show, and I knew this was going to be the third time. 

—That cocky grin as he jumped on the table and tilted his head at sexy witch.

-We approached the stairs leading to the ballroom, and he crossed himself. Unlike a lot of Banquos, he descended the stairs not in a drugged stupor. The anguish, and torment from the solo came from the frustration of his inability to do anything, and it was one of the most expressive solos that I have seen in a while.

-Third loop, his discovery of Duncan’s body was far more tragic than the previous loops before hand. He screamed for Malcolm, and then added “SOMEBODY HELP ME!” Making both my friend, and I jump, and it set my heart racing at the unexpected emotion. 

-He is probably one of the only Banquos I’ve seen play with change of breath as he emerged as a ghost, and walked through the speakeasy. His breath was intentionally audible, and labored. He nearly collapsed on the pool table, as he grabbed his jacket, and notices the bloody.  When he reached the end of high street panic fully set in, while he tried to process what had happened to him.  Fear, and confusion shone on his face, and it was one of the most expressive, and sad moments.

- I think one of my ultimate criteria of a fantastic performer is if they continue the loop in the stairwell in some capacity.  Catching small moments often make a loop for me.  His ghostly walk continued as he made his way to the banquet, and he would dance through the turns in the stairwell.

It seemed as if David had barely spent a day away from Lost Luggage, because he twirled, and stretched through them with ease. I was surprised when he launched himself off of them, and ran down to the ballroom, making it in time for the bells ringing, and he took his time to wander lost through the trees, changing his way with each clang of the bell. 

The Crypt dance is my favorite part of Banquo’s loop. I was really excited to get to see it again without the choreography that has been added over the years. He was partnered with Molly’s Bald Witch, and the two of them were stunning to watch. 

I think I had such an amazing show, partly because of the ultimate shock of seeing David back in the show, but also because I was able to share the loops with a friend, as we both marveled in the talent that is David Botana. I can’t wait to watch him in all of his roles.

I never posted my thoughts when he left the show so here’s to all of the moments that I remember, and that I hope to see again:

Boy Witch: 

--The first time that I saw Will Seefried as Porter, David was BW, and I was the only person in the lobby. I was trying to watch both of them at once, and at the end of the phone booth dance, David’s BW tossed Porter to the floor stared at me, and gave me a “take him” gesture, suggesting that he was giving Porter to me, and that I should stay.

--His pool table solo is almost incomparable.  The isolation in his arms and legs as they would slam down individually as if being pulled down by some unknown force.  The way he would throw/catapult himself off the table, was amazing to watch.

--Post shower scene, he would take someone with him to the stairwell, and then he would run down the stairs to the banquet, making you dash after him. He would stop at various landings, and looking at you, and then run away again, as if you were the something that was chasing/tormenting him. 

--I don’t remember if he did this anywhere else during the show, but during reset in the pool of light after moving the trees, he would make shadow figures of the statues in Walled Garden.

—His very last show, he was BW, and the curtain rod broke during the second telephone booth dance. Even the set didn’t want him to leave.

—my favorite moment of his BW loop is after lost luggage, he would pick someone, and lead them in front of the mirror, and dance with them. As you stepped together, he would turn your head to gaze in the mirror to see Porter staring at you in the background.

Macduff:

—Macduff was the last role that David learned, so it was so exciting getting to see him do something new, and I think it’s the role I saw him do the most before he left the show.

—David’s timing is absolutely my favorite thing about him as a performer, every sound cue was perfectly used as an inspiration for action. My favorite moment is when his Macduff would wander through Hecate’s lair, when the drone noise surged, his body would twist, and arch back, nearly collapsing to the floor as if he was affected by the mystical presence found in the rep bar. At least his Macduff was a little bit aware/affected by the energy that was in the room.

—The rest of my Macduff memories are better off being told in person, so come ask me about them, if you ever see me!

Speakeasy: .

One show, he was watching banquo walk down high street in his ghostly way, and he was sneaking along the hallway behind him, watching, as if he would follow him the full way, when the lighting struck and that was reminded him that he was called to Hecate.

—I remember watching him hop up onto the bar, unbuttoning his shirt, settling in, and getting ready for sexy witch to come to him, and thinking about how ridiculously flirty that was, and how amusing it was to watch.

Taxi

—i think the best part of watching his Taxi was never knowing what would happen next. The best moment was when he discovered that one of the glass drawers squeaked so he kept opening and closing it just to make it squeak.

[letterfromtrenwith]

Prescription Passion - Ch. 7

Carolight Hospital AU

Ch.7 - Dwight's day gets off to a bad start...and it's all downhill from there.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

~

HONKKKKK

Dwight jumped as the horn blared, turning to see a red Ferrari startlingly close behind him, but only because it seemed to be trying to drive over the pedestrian pathway in the car park to get to a space opposite. He half-leapt out of the way, and the car pulled in. A tall, dark-haired man in his 40s got out, locking the door with little more than an imperious glance back at Dwight. Under ordinary circumstances, Dwight might have objected to being nearly run over, but he was not only too astonished by the man’s behaviour, he was also in too good a mood.

Admittedly, he might have actually seen the car coming if he hadn’t been so distracted. He’d been in a bit of a dream for the last couple of days, since Caroline had waved off his taxi outside the restaurant. Like the smitten fool he was, he’d twisted around to watch her until the car turned a corner. She’d stood out in the twilight, golden hair bright against her simple red dress. It wasn’t until he got home that he’d realised she’d watched the car drive away in return.

It was only Monday, so he wasn’t sure if that was too soon to ask her out on another date – or rather, ask her out on a date for the first time, since she’d done the inviting last time. Dwight wasn’t used to being asked out by women, and definitely not ones as beautiful and fascinating as Caroline. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that relationships weren’t exactly his strong suit – he’d only had one truly serious one, and that had ended…

“Are you all right?” He was startled out of his thoughts by George’s voice. He’d made it into the hospital lobby, following the man who’d nearly knocked him down. “I saw your near miss out there.”

“Oh, er, yeah, I’m fine. Just got a bit of a fright.” He glanced after the driver, but he’d disappeared down one of the corridors which splintered off from the reception. “Do you know who that was?”

“Oh, yes.” George pursed his lips, disapproving. “Francis Bassett – he’s one of the hospital directors. Not a doctor. Some sort of pen-pusher. It’s not the first time he’s nearly caused an accident in that midlife-crisis-mobile of his. Arrogant bastard. And I work with surgeons, so I know from arrogant.”

Dwight laughed. He knew the type – both from his previous work in the NHS, and his time with MSF. Charity higher-ups were often the same, treating the organisations they were in charge of like their own personal fiefdoms, believing they could do what they wanted because they were ‘helping people’, despite the fact that they rarely went near a patient or anyone in need. Primarily because most of them weren’t doctors, or anything at all, so far as Dwight had ever been able to tell.

“So, are you on your way in or out?”

“In. I’ve just dropped Valentine off at nursery.”

“Elizabeth not with you?”

“She came in earlier. They had a bit of a rush on.” George smiled. “If you’re hoping to avoid her, she’ll probably be finished by about 3.”

“Avoid her?” Dwight frowned. “Why would I want to avoid her?”

“Because you’ll get the third degree about your date with Caroline on Saturday night.”

“How did – “

“Oh, she got that out of Caroline days ago.” Obviously sensing that Dwight was slightly taken aback, George’s expression softened. “Elizabeth’s not trying to interfere, she’s just pleased for Caroline, that’s all. Caroline didn’t really know anyone when she came here, and her Uncle is an old friend of Elizabeth’s dad. They’re close. She’s Ursula’s godmother.”

“Oh, I see.” It made sense. He couldn’t really imagine Elizabeth as the busybody type, and he felt badly for thinking otherwise, no matter how briefly. Caroline had certainly given him the impression that she was good friends with the obstetrician. He elected to change the subject. “She’s very cute, by the way. Ursula, I mean. People couldn’t tear themselves away at your party.”

“Yes, she is.” George smiled fondly. They’d begun to walk into the main body of the hospital, towards the staff wing. Dwight still had a short while before he needed to sign in for his shift. “She’s got us both wrapped around her little finger. Valentine was the same.”

“How did you and Elizabeth end up working in the same hospital, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, not at all. We met here, actually. I did the first part of my registration in Bath, but came down here to finish. First week on the job, I got called in for an epidural and…there she was.” He smiled, remembering. “Took me six months to work up the courage to ask her out. Wish I hadn’t wasted all that time, to be honest. What’s the point in waiting when you know what you want? Well, this is me. Got a budget meeting. I’ll see you later.”

With that George disappeared in the direction of the administrative offices. Dwight stood a minute watching the double doors slowly swing to stop. He had a feeling that George’s comment about not waiting hadn’t been solely referring to himself and Elizabeth.

~

Dwight stretched, hearing a popping noise from somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulder. He would go and have a sit down, he thought. It hadn’t exactly been busy today, just a steady flow of one patient after another. Nothing especially serious, thank God, although a man with chest pains had been admitted for further observation, but there had barely been a pause.  

As he was signing off a patient form, the phone rang on the desk and Rosina answered. She listened intently to whatever the person on the other end was saying, and the way her mouth set into a grim line gave Dwight a deep sense of foreboding. He was proven right when she hung up.

“There’s been a scaffolding collapse on a building site. At least 20 casualties. First ones should be arriving in the next 10 minutes. Don’t know how many are coming here yet.”

“All right.” Dwight took a deep breath, steeling himself. He’d dealt with mass-casualty incidents before and he’d had significant training. As the senior physician in the department today, he needed to take charge. He could do this. “Activate the MCI procedures. Call in everyone nearby, and see if other departments can spare any qualified personnel.”

Rosina gave a sharp nod and picked up the phone again – she’d be paging just about every doctor in the hospital with the emergency notification. Dwight headed off to round up every spare staff member he could find in the A&E, hurrying them to clear as many beds as they could – getting all the patients who were to be admitted or discharged processed as quickly as possible in the time left, which wasn’t much.

The estimate hadn’t been far off – about fifteen minutes after the phone call, they were alerted that the ambulances had begun to arrive. Just two to begin with, but there would be more, he knew. Thankfully, the extra staff had also started to appear. Mostly nurses, but a few doctors, as well – Dwight saw Hugh Armitage and Malcolm McNeil, and some others whose names he still didn’t know. With another deep breath, he strode out to the ambulance bay doors.

Everything after that seemed to happen both too quickly and in slow motion. The injuries were just what would be expected from a building collapse, but that made them no less distressing. Crush injuries, broken limbs, head traumas – and not all members of the building crew. Debris had fallen onto pedestrians on the street.

It seemed the first reports had underestimate the number of casualties – some had gone to the Royal Cornwall and a few with relatively minor injuries had been taken further afield – but over the course of the next few hours at least 20 patients arrived, although Dwight struggled to keep count, even though he was nominally in charge of co-ordination. There were more pressing issues to attend to – like the young builder with a metal rod through his torso, or the other who had fallen almost thirty feet, or the little girl whose leg had been crushed by a scaffolding pole. After some struggle to stabilise the men, both were whisked away for emergency surgery. Hugh stepped in to take charge of the girl, also hurrying her away to theatre.

Dwight ended up calling time of death on two patients in a row – one who had been struck on the head by a falling plank of wood, and another, an older man whose heart simply gave out with the shock of his injuries. At the edge of his awareness, he heard at least two other TODs being called – the second he recognised as being in George’s voice.

Shortly after that George appeared at his side to tend to another worker with fall injuries – he was still conscious somehow, and in severe pain. Ironically, that was a good sign under the circumstances, indicating against paralysis. The patient was also very distressed, by everything that had happened, and by being strapped onto the spinal board, his head held still by the cervical collar.

“What’s – what’s going on? Ah Jesus! It hurts so much.”

“Shhhh, it’s all right. What’s your name?” Dwight did his best to keep his voice soothing.

“Danny – ah – oh God.”

“All right, Danny, just try to breathe slowly.” As he did his best to assess the young man’s – he couldn’t be more than 20 – condition, Dwight saw George prepare a syringe, inserting into Danny’s drip and injecting the contents, eyes on the monitors at all times. Relatively quickly, his vitals stabilised a little, blood pressure and heart rate decreasing closer to a normal rate, the opioid acting quickly. His injuries were still severe, however. Dwight was certain both his legs were broken, and quite probably his pelvis; he was struggling to breath in a way which suggested the possibility of a collapsed lung.

“He needs an x-ray, and a CT scan.” Dwight said.

“We still need to get his BP down.” George rummaged in the cabinet, extracting another syringe. A dose of ACE inhibitors did enough, and Danny could be admitted for further treatment.

By the time everything began to tail off, Dwight had no idea what time of day it was. Once the last casualty from the collapse had been wheeled away into the main body of the hospital, he slumped against the nurses’ desk, all of the energy and adrenaline draining out of him. Nearby, a nurse was cleaning blood from the floor. There were still a few patients receiving treatment – some not from the collapse, but they were being treated by reserve staff who had been called in to take over.

Although he’d called TOD on three patients all told, he’d paid little attention to the actual passage of time, his mind on other things. Blearily, he squinted at the large clock about the desk. It was half past eight at night, about seven hours since they’d got the call. With some difficulty he made it out into the corridor, sitting down with his back against the wall. It was blessedly cool; drawing up his knees, he dropped his forehead onto his folded arms.

He felt as if a weight was settling on his shoulders, and – uninvited – his brain began to conjure up memories. Sparse wooden shacks used as hospital wards, blood permanently ingrained in the floor planks;  little malnourished bodies on pathetic excuses for hospital beds; bombed out buildings; remains pulled out of homes crushed by mudslides; a knock on the door in the middle of the night, blue lights flickering through the glass…

“Dwight? Dwight? Are you okay?” Lost in his unwelcome thoughts, Dwight was startled. He looked up to find Rosina crouched next to him. She gently put her hand on his shoulder. “That was…pretty awful.”

“Yeah..” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and it came away wet. Oh Lord, he’d been crying. He blinked a few times, and saw that Rosina’s eyes were also red-rimmed. She was relatively recently qualified, this was almost certainly the most severe situation she’d ever been in. “You – er – you did really well back there.”

“I tried. You were amazing. You were so calm.” She smiled a little, still rubbing his shoulder gently. Unexpectedly, she leant forward and pressed her forehead against his for a moment before quickly standing up, wiping her own eyes and disappearing back into the ward. Dwight glanced in the other direction, just in time to see Caroline turn and walk away through the doors. 

[allronix]

Salty asks: 1-27.

Assuming this is the fandom of your namesake. 

1. OTP that I just don’t get. Probably Sam/Tron. Not to say some folks can’t REALLY fucking rock it (see the “We Are Pilots” verse), but it takes a lot of work. Their only meeting in canon was in a duel to the death with the Program being brainwashed and crazy, and Sam has very little if any reason to even like the guy, even in a post-Legacy setup. 

2, Fandom OTP I only BroTP:  Probably Tron/Ram. Ram had too much chemistry with Flynn, and Tron was single-minded enough about Yori to put his deity on hold. While I can very easily see group marriage as a normal part of Program society, it’s not something I can see in canonical circumstances. 

3. Unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Nope. But if they trash my faves, I hope they can back up their dislike with a very good argument. 

4.  A NoTP for my fandom. Not touching Sam/Alan with a 10-meter Rod Primitive. The age gap for one, the paternal role Alan took for two, the fact Lora is not dead in this timeline third, the fourth is the possibility of OT3: Shall We Dance making this ship even more brain-breaking.

5. Has fandom ruined a pairing for me? Not in this fandom, but I’ve avoided the hell out of some shows because I saw the fandom for them was such a big ball of crazy that I wanted to avoid it like kryptonite. 

6. Has fandom made me enjoy a pairing I previously hated? I’m not sure if it’s a good thing, and I’m not sure I’d call it “enjoy,” but there are some Clu/”Rinzler” fics that almost make the whole thing come out as something marginally less squicky and more interesting than “sadist and his sex slave.” 

7. Anything I used to like but dislike now? Y’know, I kinda used to dig Flynn/Alan slash. But after I realized I could make a drinking game out of them (take a shot if they mention Lora, chug the whole thing if they mention Jordan - stay sober the whole night), they lost a lot of appeal. I’ll make an exception for “Shall We Dance” scenarios. Heck, I love Shall We Dance because it’s a very different matter if Lora’s aware and on board with the whole thing. Heck, if someone upgrades it to an Ot4 of “Shall We Dance With Jordan,” then I owe them a six-pack of top-quality beer or cane-sugar soda and my enthusiastic gratitude. 

8. Anon hate? Yes. Received it. But over politics, not fandom. It’s to be expected. The Galaxy Rangers list used to have “don’t talk to Allronix about politics” as one of the bylaws. 

9. Most hated character? Probably Pavel. He’s such a transparent slimeball with little in the way of interesting motivation. Tesler? While he’s a nasty piece of work, there’s wiggle room to argue that he’s doing what he’s doing for the good of the system and doesn’t like doing what he does. Sark? Incredible ham and definitely one note, but David Warner plays the best creeps ever.  (He out-creeped Malcolm McDowell, that’s near-impossible) 

10. Most disliked arc. Probably the Isos. I’m still not sure what they were, or why they were special or what was so great about them, or how they would change everything, aside from the implication they were partly biological. Which is great and all, but the way it was handled has an “organics rule, synthethics drool” vibe that is pretty insulting when everything else in the franchise shows that the Programs are just as capable of love, hate, morality, humor, and free will as the humans who built them. 

11. Unpopular character I like that the fandom doesn’t? I just had to have the bad luck…or the good luck…to latch on very hard to the Tron 2.0 characters. Good luck in that it’s unexplored territory. Bad luck in that I seem to be the only one who writes Mercury, or Crown, or I-No. 

12. Unpopular arc I like the fandom doesn’t? 2.0 again. What got me about it is that the 1982 and Legacy films dealt with malevolent AI who were cruel of other AI and wanted to extend the cruelty. 2.0 inverted it; the uncorrupted Programs were, with very few exceptions, wanting to protect themselves and their home. The corrupted Programs were driven insane by a User who embraced the worst parts of the role. And then you had F-Con who planned to crank that up even more so that they could rule both worlds from the shadows. It really needed to be explored more, as it was a great start. 

13. Unpopular opinion about a character: Sam Flynn kinda spooks me. He has no reason to be merciful or benevolent to Programs. As far as he saw, his dad believed in them, and they stabbed his dad in the back, kept his dad away from him, tried to kill him, tried to kill Quorra, killed all of Quorra’s people, and eventually killed his dad right in front of him. And he’s taking over command of a software company with barely any time to process that trauma. ��It’s probably not going to end well for the Programs unless something intervenes.

14. Unpopular opinion about the fandom: They have very little interest in reclaiming the female characters from the margins, and that’s quite frustrating. Quorra and Paige get some fics here and there, but even those petered out. Yes, this fandom is VERY heavily skewed male, but you’ve got Quorra, Paige, Mara, Gorn, Lux, Yori, Lora, Gem, etc. in Legacy canon, and some great potential with Mercury, Ma3a, and Eva Popoff if you import from 2.0. I was hoping to see at least SOMEONE write up a fanfic about Jordan. What kind of woman could handle a brilliant, cheerful, crazy ball of energy like 80′s!Flynn?  

15. Unpopular opinion about the canon: Legacy is very difficult for me to watch. Even though it totally brought the whole thing back from the dead, it’s just frustrating to watch. Not to say everyone didn’t bring their A-game to it, but it took everything that made the first film so much fun and destroyed it, ending up as a depressing waste where everyone loses, and Dillinger Jr is just waiting in the wings to cause even more trouble. 

16. If I could change anything about the canon, what to change? Tron 2.0 totally happened. It would not be hard to come up with a workaround for Ma3a that keeps Lora alive. There’s probably about three or four ways I could come up with other than the made of crack one I’ve got going in my fics. 

17. Instead of X happening, I’d go with Y: If you want something other than “instead of 2.0 being thrown out the airlock, it’s part of canon,” I would have loved to see Sam get rescued by Bartik’s crew (Bonus points if Yori’s running the damn thing) and then meet up with his dad and Quorra. That way, there could have been a little more complexity to the Grid situation and a way to avoid the whole “Programs are evil!” thing Legacy ended up with.

18. Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased? Shipping, IMO is shorthand for schools of character interpretation. Someone who ships Quorra/Sam is going to have a different take than someone who ships Quorra/Zues, or Quorra/Paige. They’re all looking at the same data, but the interpretation of the data is going to vary.   

19. One thing I dislike most about my fandom: It’s a back alley of the 80′s that its own company barely wants to admit they did. This makes canon and newcomers a little hard to come by.

20. Purest ship in the fandom. Tron/Yori was my first OTP. They’re still my OTP, because 82!Tron was such a sweet, earnest dork and Yori was such an adorable, sneaky badass. Post-Legacy? It’s going to be one heck of a climb no matter which guess you take about Yori’s fate (And seriously? Morgan got gypped), but having those two limp off into whatever digital sunset there is would be the closest we get to a happy ending that’s canon-compatible.

21. Crack ships? A crack ship for the sake of a crack ship is a “no thanks!” But there are ships that look like someone did them on a three-drink dare that actually manage to work. I’m thinking to KOTOR fandom where someone made a REALLY awesome case for Canderous/Bastila that should not have worked and totally did. 

22. Popular character I dislike: It’s not so much “dislike” as “I’m not sure what to make of them.” Really wanted some development on Sam. Quorra got Evolution and a nice episode of Uprising, but Sam…he’s still a bit of a blank to me. 

23. Unpopular character I adore:  I especially latched on hard to Jet Bradley after reading the Ghost in the Machine comic because he had clearly done a lot of thinking about what being a User means in that setting, and was bringing up points no one else bothered with. As such, he makes an excellent foil and walking deconstruction fleet while still being, ostensibly, one of the good guys. 

24. Would I recommend Tron to a friend? Only with a ton of disclaimers. This was made in the EARLY 80′s, by people who apparently had no fucking idea what they were doing, and Disney probably signed off on it while under the influence of something. But the combination ends up as something inexplicably brilliant and probably launched thousands of computer animation careers and hundreds more IT careers. 

25.   How would I end it? I’ve got fics in mind for it. I kitbash 2.0 and Legacy shamelessly. The ending I have in mind? Well, Alan and Lora end up giving up their lives in analog to rebuild the Rome Flynn started. Jet ends up dedicating his life to serving the Programs and goes a bit native. Mercury and Tron act as the primary “knights” of Alan and Lora. Sam and Quorra handle much of the rest in the analog world, slowly trying to open up the world and make it ready for the revelation of the digital one. And Yori runs a reformation of the Program religion so that they are prepared to accept the Users as fallible beings who are still powerful, but less “worship as deity” and more “we depend on one another - don’t screw it up.” 

26. Most shippable character? Probably Flynn. I can see him as a fellow who would (prior to the coup) enjoy himself and his opportunities to the fullest, including trying anything twice sexually. 

27. Least shippable character: Probably Esomond Baza. He’s a coward with so little self-esteem, self-respect, or a moral compass that he needs a few months of therapy before even thinking of a date. 

[footyplusau]

Malcolm Blight, a Legend of Australian football

Malcolm Blight once called himself the pizza coach because when in charge of Geelong, he lost grand finals by small, medium and large sizes. That is the way his quirky mind works. But it is more to the point of Blight to look at the bottom of the menu and say that he was one with the lot.

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AFL plays of round 13

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Blight officially becomes a legend

Blight officially becomes a legend

The sum total of a 40-year career sees Malcolm Blight officially receive legend status in the AFL Hall of Fame.

AFL plays of round 13

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AFL plays of round 13

AFL plays of round 13

Darling is a ninja, Gresham is foot fancy, a Tiger stalks a Swan, Hipwood the Lion is a star and Pearce Hanley keeps goal.

Melbourne smash the Bulldogs

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Melbourne smash the Bulldogs

Melbourne smash the Bulldogs

It was a day to forget for the Bulldogs as Melbourne beat them by more than 50.

Sydney produce memorable comeback

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Sydney produce memorable comeback

Sydney produce memorable comeback

After being behind for most of the game, the Swans produced a stunning comeback to beat Richmond.

Port smash Lions

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Port smash Lions

Port smash Lions

Port Adelaide improved from their 70 point defeat the round previous to smash the Brisbane Lions.

Carlton hold off Suns with late rally

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Carlton hold off Suns with late rally

Carlton hold off Suns with late rally

Carlton managed to withstand a late Gold Coast revival to beat the Suns.

FootyFix: Can the Dees maintain the rage?

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FootyFix: Can the Dees maintain the rage?

FootyFix: Can the Dees maintain the rage?

Rohan Connolly previews all the footy action ahead of round 13 in the AFL.

Blight officially becomes a legend

The sum total of a 40-year career sees Malcolm Blight officially receive legend status in the AFL Hall of Fame.

His football CV is unique in its breadth. He has at least one of just about everything. Count them: Brownlow, Magarey and Coleman medals, pairs of premierships as player and coach, all-Australian, rep guernseys, a place in two halls of fame, hallowed status in two states. If there were formal prizes for mark and goal of the year in his time, he would have won those too. He was a spectacular footballer.

Blight’s impossible to box, and who would want to anyway? He is the exception to all rules. Great players were not supposed to make great coaches; Blight did. Defence was the only way to go for the premiership-minded, but not for Blight. His Cats ticked along at a rollicking 20 goals a week. The pity was that they did not win a flag, because it would have re-set the footy agenda for 10 years.

Adelaide Crow’s coach Malcolm Blight jumps as the final siren blows for their second premiership win, the 1998 AFL Grand Final.  Photo: Action Photographics

Blight was chastened, but only a little when he next bobbed up in Adelaide. Premierships could not be won from outside the top echelon, but Blight’s Crows did, two years in a row. It was another 20 years before anyone did again. In honour of that, the whole Hall of Fame shebang was moved to Adelaide on Tuesday night. The mountain went to Mohammed.

There was and is nothing dour and dull about Blight. Stephen Rielly, formerly of The Age, once characterised him as footy’s Great Gatsby. It wasn’t just his moustache. He played ruck-rover, and later full-forward, with a debonair dash (and at half-time, a smoke). As full-forward, an uncle once calculated, he averaged 6.2 goals a game. One was a left-footer from the Arden St boundary, for which impertinence Ron Barassi dragged him, for not centreing it. Barassi said he rode Blight hard because he was so good. Among stars, he shone.

In 1976, Blight won a game against Carlton with a post-siren goal from, oh, 70 metres? 80? It doesn’t matter because it went through post-high. It was a torpedo, of course. It took him hours to get off the ground. At Princes Park, they talk about it still. “They talk about it still”: you could put that on Blight’s tombstone.

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He was mercurial, beyond doubt. The year after he won that game off his own boot at Carlton, he lost one to Hawthorn at Arden St. Being Blight, there was a twist. His free kick and behind after the siren from perhaps 25 metres levelled the scores, but because of an infringement he was given the option of another shot, and took it _ and missed altogether, admittedly in metres of mucky mud.

Malcolm Blight, St Kilda coach, talks to his players before the start of play during round 10 of the AFL season  Photo: DARRIN BRAYBROOK

Another time at the MCG, he ran into what he thought was an open goal _ and kicked it between goal and behind posts. His spacial awareness, so highly developed, had failed him utterly.

Blight’s playing exploits for Woodville and North alone would have earned him a place in any gallery. But wait, there was more, so much more. In 1981, he succeeded Barassi at North, as playing coach: imagine that now. It lasted half a season. After six straight losses, he was sacked. The next week against the Bulldogs, he kicked 11 goals.

Malcolm Blight celebrates the 1998 Grand Final win with his Adelaide Crows players Photo: Simon O’Dwyer

After a prologue playing and coaching at Woodville, his almer mater, Blight re-emerged in 1989 and immediately took Geelong to what remains the greatest modern grand final. He was a coach made for Geelong, a club that always has preferred football with flourish. Gary Ablett senior kicked three tons in a row. None the less, Blight remarked one day that he could be an even better player if he kept his feet; only he had that authority. But three flags went begging.

Reconstituted at Adelaide, Blight began by sacking four superstars, causing wailing and gnashing of teeth. Consecutive premierships vindicated him, and relieved him: one loss in a big one, he said, and he would not have been the pizza coach, but Greg Norman.

Malcolm Blight while playing for North Melbourne.  Photo: AFL

There was more science now, but no less dash. To unknown Shane Ellen, proxying for Tony Modra at full-forward, he said: “Go out and enjoy it and run around a lot.” He kicked five. Two years, two flags, but a year later, never one to outstay his welcome, Blight resigned.

A last hurrah, one year at St Kilda when Rod Butterss would not take no for an answer, was probably a mistake, but memorable even as that. Robert Harvey played under seven coaches, but devoted a separate chapter of his book only to one, Blight.

As for disposition, player and coach, think anti-Malthouse. Blight always projected an air of mild amusement with it all. Even the detested media, he humoured. To a formulaic question, he would stroke his chin before answering, as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever been asked. Between coaching drills, he would kick enormous torpedos, because he could.

Blight had a dark side, of course; all high achievers do. He made Austin McCrabb stand outside the three-quarter time huddle one day at Geelong, and called David Pittman, his own ruckman at Adelaide, “pathetic”, and abandoned his post there one day mid-way through the last quarter, in disgust, and did the post-match debrief of well-beaten St Kilda in the middle of Etihad stadium, where all could mock.

In time, he would say he was glad to be out of coaching because he hated what the job forced him to become, and what learned about himself that he he would rather not have known.

Better to recall the idiosyncrasies than the tantrums anyway. New at Geelong, he preached the imperative to tie your boots to the side, to improve kicking accuracy. Another time, he had the Cats sitting around a pool, towels on their heads. Why, maybe even he can’t remember now. But did you see the football the Cats played for him? There were many other gems.

Post-career, Blight remains a one-off. He lives in Cairns, the tropics, but scarcely an AFL hothouse. There, he has receded from view. You always got the impression that for all his love of footy, there was much else filling up his life. But his TV commentary, for as long as it lasted, was like a squirt of air freshener. Always, he sided with the player who looked like he was having fun, because he did. “You’ve gotta have fun”: you could put that in his epitaph, too.

In a Melbourne pub on a Friday night more than 30 years ago, a couple of emigres from South Australia realised that the next day, 35-year-old Blight would be playing his last ever game for Woodville. They put down their beers and drove through the night to be there. That is what makes Malcolm Blight a legend, and now officially, a Legend.

The post Malcolm Blight, a Legend of Australian football appeared first on Footy Plus.

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