Adelaide invited Geelong to its Gather Round opening party, only for the Cats to ransack the house

Organizing a party is often a horrible experience.

Of course, it sounds good like a disposable brain wave before logistics realities hit you on the back of the head, really? All? Here? At my place? Immediately?

Of course, you want to make sure your guests are comfortable and entertaining, certainly never boring, but let them feel too much at home and that things can get out of control. Suddenly, what was announced when drinks and music become a broken coffee table and vomit on the carpet.

It was at this high level that the Crows Adelaide Bew Tap Bequieron on Thursday night. All eyes were put on them while they launched the four -day football party in southern Australia, and with that came certain pressures and responsibilities.

Let’s have a good time, but we all have to work tomorrow. The crows had to make sure that when they woke up the kitchen was clean, the back door was closed and the four points of the Premier League were saved safely.

His guests for the night were Geelong’s cats, experienced veterans who had come and saw and conquered their fair share of meetings in the past. Take them out for a second and will be on their sofa for a week.

Geelong not only exceeded his welcome, but raised the articulation before leaving.

The crows thought they had every square, under control. They were so bright, their dazzling football sometimes, but they never completely canceled the threat.

Seeing the crows during the first half in Adelaide Oval, it became difficult to see how they could lose another game throughout the season, much less this.

With the progress line of the small ball in Vogue around the competition, Adelaide has run in 2025 his own career when choosing the three largest types he can find and let them discover the rest.

Taylor Walker, Riley Thilthorpe and, on this night, in particular, Darcy Fogarty raises a problem, no opposition team is fully equipped to solve.

Here are three Australian caliber strikers, one at the end of his career, one apparently at his best and the other finally discovering what he is capable of. It was Fogarty’s turn for dinner, but it seems that they are working on a rotating list, and everyone will have a turn.

With Tom Stewart at the end of departure, after having played the proven card and true “I have gastro” that has taken many Australians without work without a follow -up question, the Cats had no choice but to give ground in that battle.

For what cats could not be prepared was Adelaide’s avalanche that came. The objectives were torn from nothing, every moment of brilliance increased the feeling that this was Adelaide’s night, and these things were destined to happen.

The first goal of Walker’s night, a fabric click on his alleged wrong foot, was obscene. Not much later, Walker was deliberately homenated towards the Rankine Izak boot in the metal so that he could take advantage of the end.

Fogarty and Ben Keays continued to push themselves more and more deeply in the pockets, more and further from the goal, and they could not find a way to miss one. The crowd felt ready to fight.

And yet, the cats kept the rhythm, through little more than foundations. Win the contest, win some territory, charge it until you can create an opportunity. Rinse and repeat.

It was not until after part time when they climbed the music and began to pour shots. Max Holmes kicked a goal inside the third quarter that starts and Brad Close flew to another from 30 meters shortly after.

When Ollie Dempsey was sitting in his head in the jaws of the goal, the cats were in front.

In retrospect, the intelligent that Adelaide did at that time was to call the police and close everything. But it is never so easy at the time.

The crows continued arriving, but with a nervousness. The first look was always on the shoulder, and the ball suddenly seemed more slippery than when the night was young.

Then someone said they saw Patrick Dangerfield walk through the side door. I used to live here, so Adelaide knew what it was. It turns out that it has not changed much.

Dangerfield brought some friends with him, and among the three the night finally broke for the crows.

Bailey Smith kept running throughout the night, her golden strands and her decorative headband in perpetual and constantly influential motion. Jeremy Cameron entered and left the game, but it was his separator during the first crucial moments of the last quarter.

But, of course, in the last one there was Dangerfield, hero and villain at the same time. They booed him in the last minutes, long after he had stolen the game of his previous team, simply because they felt they had to do it.

Dangerfield and CO had not only taken the occasion of Adelaide’s reach, but reminded us of all the distinction between almost there and the finished article.

The crows will be fine, their ascension is unlikely to be shaken by this setback. And they will probably even organize another party, perhaps at this time next year.

And perhaps by then they will have the conviction of kicking the rebel mafia before he invaded them.