Root canal surgery. A séance. Visits to mothball-smelling Nanna offering lollies from a jar she last opened in 1983. That point at a party when you realise you’re not likely to pick up anyone attractive, and those left behind are about as appealing as a hangover, and you’re without a car as all three of your mates have done significantly better than you and are now somewhere between a convenience store and Ben Buckler holding onto something nice. Maybe that last one’s just me...

All these are preferable to watching the Mariners do to my beloved team what is euphemistically referred to in the horse trade as “breeding”.  

It didn’t start out that way. We began in some style, pinning the home side in their half and getting the reward early on, Yau with a classy finish. Unfortunately that was as good as it got as the Mariners got on top and stayed there. There was much justified dissatisfaction with Strebre Delovski in the away stands but to put the loss down to the man with the whistle would be lunacy. The truth is we cost ourselves with a lack of application over the 90 minutes and the excellent Mariners capitalised time and again.

The tactics changed come the second half as we went chasing goals, Crooky going with three at the back. With a gamble such as that, the midfield and attackers needed to work extra hard to close down their man when we lost possession. Well the reality is that they didn’t work hard enough without the ball and allowed the Mariners to waltz through the midfield time and again, or to hit us on the break unchecked. 

When we had the ball we attacked quite well and scored the goal of the match in the second half, but it was otherwise an awful performance, much of it without the testicular fortitude we expect of our players. Changes must be made.

Del Piero will come back in against Melbourne Victory next Saturday night, and there is every chance Adam Griffiths may return from injury. And who knows, maybe Jason Culina is ready to go too. Kruno may not survive the cull, and even Paul Reid and Trent McLenahan, cornerstones of our good run lately, may find their starting positions in jeopardy. Poor young Daniel Petkovski was decimated out wide and Fabio’s return can’t come soon enough. 

The positives from the Goring at Gosford? Were there any? A few.

Our attack looked good, and with Del Piero pulling the strings behind Emerton, Mallia and Yau we can create plenty of chances next week. The debut of baby-faced Hagi Gligor was a delight, the kid showing strength on the ball, keeping possession like a seasoned pro and playing clever, insightful passes. More is to come from him. Terry McFlynn is still an inspiration, driving his teammates on even when all hope was lost and he deservedly got some Sydney appreciation in the stands.

And the Cove never stopped. With 20 minutes left, the issue beyond doubt and the hangers-on and fair-weather-friends well and truly on the freeway, the rest of us remained until the bitter end and kept on singing. There was catharsis in defiantly sublimating our disappointment and anger into song, “There’s a Sky Blue Sydney” reverberating around Bluetongue and drowning out the fans in yellow. At least we won off the field…

My 11 year old asked me if it is better to lose 3-2 or 7-2 given how loudly we were singing in bitter defeat. It’s a point worth noting. I told him a loss is a loss, but you don’t walk away from your team no matter how badly they perform. And they need our support now more than ever before. I think he understood.

I hope the players understand too. I hope they understand and feel in their deepest heart of hearts that the club is ours, not theirs. They play for us and carry a proud legacy. And as they are hurting, we are hurting more. For when the Yorkes, Carles, Del Pieros, Bugnos, Barlows and Pignatas are long gone, we’ll still be here come hell or high water. 

I don’t need an apology. 

I need my team to beat Melbourne on Saturday night.