For the pain, suffering and hurt of these stolen generations, their descendants and for their families left behind, we say sorry.
To the mothers and the fathers, the brothers and the sisters, for the breaking up of families and communities, we say sorry.
And for the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people and a proud culture, we say sorry.

They were the long awaited words that Kevin Rudd delivered as he apologised for decades of abuse of the Indigenous peoples of Australia, uniting the nation and starting the healing. Aussie Rules umpires are less inclined to use the word sorry but, after causing untold grief to Steven Dodd last week, they attempted a similar act of reconciliation when they gave Matthew Pavlich a free kick before the siren when some Irish bloke from Carlton gave him a bit of a shove. Pavlich kicked the goal and the clock started.

Wounds were healed, bridges were built and Fremantle and the umpires were once again on speaking terms – but then came the umpires version of Brendon Nelsons reply. It went longer, it probably included a few unfortunate words and it did untold damage to the recently healed relationship.

Carlton weren't entirely prepared for the wave of favourable interpretation of the rules and missed a couple of early gifts, until Eddie Betts levelled the scores so the game could settle into a steady rhythm. Fremantle would take a mark that wasn't paid, Carlton would look at the ball with hopeful eyes and one was paid. Fremantle would brush against a Carlton midfielder and concede a kick, Carlton would restrain a Fremantle midfielder then wait for Zed to arrive and it'd be 'play on'. 

In a tight match on a slippery ground it made for some difficult football but with Rhys Palmer running riot, Aaron Sandilands dominating the sky and Pavlich dominating everyone Fremantle were able to battle against the umpires and go goal for goal with the Blues and their whistle blowing friends.

Peter Bell dobbed a sensation goal from the hands of Pavlich, Fisher snapped one in highly suspicious circumstances, Duffield slotted one through from somewhere near the Souvlaki stand, Scotland snapped one in highly suspicious circumstances and then Fisher kicked one after taking a 'mark' that failed to fulfil any of the 6 conditions required for such an event to even be discussed.

At quarter time, the Blues had a handy 8 point lead in what most football experts would have described as an evenly poised game. Chris Judd was once again being blanketed, this year by Ryan Crowley, and Brendon Fevola was getting his once a year bath from Antoni Grover. 

After a drink of cordial and a look at the magnetic board, the sides returned to the ground. Carlton were hoping that their two players could get a kick and Fremantle were hoping the umpires would adopt the Official Rules of the AFL and stop trying to robthem of another game.   They were a bit concerned then when the umpires returned to the ground wearing bandanas over their faces,  brandishing pistols and carrying large sacks with dollar signs. Still, it was better than last week when they were dressed as Roman Centurions. 

The bounce to start play may as well have been handed to Hampson but Fremantle hit the Blues hard and a thumping kick from Pav went to Jeff Farmer, just three out in the goal square. Farmer ducked back around one, he faked the other with a dummy lead but the third panic, he put Farmer in a headlock and started working his kidneys. No whistle seemed to be coming until one of the punches Carrazzo threw was with an open hand to the back.  Farmer got a rare free, kicked a goal and the margin was back to 2 points.

A goal from a free kick going to Fremantle is always a clear indicator that the umpires will soon be unleashing their wrath on the Dockers, just in case the players make the mistake that they are playing on a level field.

Ridiculous free kicks and even more ridicules non-free kicks followed as the game approached a heavy weight boxing level of farcicality. Chris Judd threw the ball out to Kade Simpson  who snapped a goal to put the Blues back in front and prove two things – i) Chirs Judd can do anything he likes and, ii) he throws like a girl.

This time around, Carlton could sense the rules being bent and they played to the lack of whistle. There was a spring in their step as they attacked, unhindered by the rules.

Confidence is a dangerous thing at Carlton and, with his head free from worrying about all the things about him that suck, Fevola kicked a freak goal, soccering it off the ground with his back turned to the goals and only one hand hanging onto McPharlin's jumper.

Things weren't looking good for Fremantle. They were taking the liberal interpretation of the rules to heart more than usual and dropping off the pace. The crowd were getting behind Carlton, everything was going their way and the Dockers were a long way from home, cold and tired.

When Wiggins took a mark over a high flying Peter Bell to put the Blues up by 20 points, panic stations were being manned,  Fremantle gardens were being tendered to, dogs in South Fremantle were cowering behind the beer fridge and Mark Harvey was saying a quiet prayer.

Matthew Pavlich, though, was standing up tall, telling his mates not to worry and throwing himself into the centre.  The ball came down, he fended off three Carlton players, dummied around another couple and then let fly from the centre square. The ball landed 135 metres away in the goal square, kicked on and went straight through the centre.

But it wasn't quite the team lifting, call to arms that he'd hoped for. It was more like the Road Runner spinning his legs for 10 minutes before setting off in a blur.  As both sides slogged it out, hoping that their young coaches would think of something other than putting numbers behind the ball, Fremantle slowly started to wrestle momentum back their way.

It took another big man with a big heart to break the deadlock, with Chris Tarrant running back with courage to get on the end of a Byron Schammer kick. As the ball sailed over the goal umpires head, the Fremantle players seemed to get their run back.

Thornton went flying down the ground like a tall, thin, unusually white comet He gave The Wiz the lace out treatment and The Wiz spun around, spotted Michel Johnson on the bolt from full back and landed the ball in his outstretched arms. Johnson kicked the goal and the half time siren saved Carlton from any more embarrassment. Fremantle a goal shy of the lead.

While players enjoyed the facilities at the Telstra Dome and prepared for another two quarters of hard fought, high impact footy the umpires got together and decided that they hadn't been fair in the first half.  So they made a pact that they would try and make amends for their deplorable effort in the first half.

Chris Judd had hardly been given any free kicks so, as soon as they siren sounded to start the third quarter, the umpires set about living up to their half time pact. 

Both Judd's arms were pinned, he had three players lying on top of him and two standing above him appealing to the umpire, for the first 3 minutes of the quarter but, not only wasn't it holding the ball, they looked the other way while he threw the ball (like a girl) to Eddie Betts. By this time, all 18 Fremantle players were involved in the tackle so Betts was able to kick an easy goal.

Back in the centre and this time, rather than look the other way, they decided it would save a lot of time if they just gave a free kick every time Judd was tackled.  The Dockers were caught off guard again and Edwards lucked out this time, kicking the Blues back out to a 3 goal lead.

They hadn't put up with that sort of crap when he was at the Eagles and the Fremantle players certainly weren't going to take it from him at Carlton. They were stung into action.

Pavlich took to the Carlton defence like a Fremantle archaeologist Pioneer Park, cutting a tunnel through them before handing it off to Dean Solomon to finish off with a goal. Then Chris Tarrant went on a rampage, taking screamer after screamer like a young Pavlich, putting through two goals and levelling the scores.

Then the great humiliation. Kepler Bradley beat off two Carlton players on the wing, grabbed the ball and set his sights on the goals. He fended off one Carlton player then saw Chris Judd coming at him. He gave him a gob full like a local, sold him a blind turn and then slotted through goal number 11 to take the lead.

Retaliation was swift and Judd was given a free kick almost straight out of the centre bounce. The Carlton forwards hadn't seen the ball in a while and a lucky bounce saw Heath Scotland get one back.

It was a short lived reprieve for the Blues though. Fremantle were smashing them all over the ground and, as the ball was cleared by Byron Schammer, Jeff Farmer laid the trap in the forward line, wrapped Stevens up in a text book tackle and dropped through his second goal, from the carpark between a Monaro and a Land Rover. Not to be out done, Pav combined everyone's efforts, bringing down a screamer in the pocket, dobbing the goal and then hurling some abuse at Judd who was counting his money on the bench.

With three quarter time approaching, there was much debate in the coach's box about just how Fremantle should approach things. After being over run in the last quarter every game in recent memory they decided it best to let Carlton get a couple of late ones so the Dockers could go into the last quarter with a lead to chase. Unfortunately Carlton were shell shocked by the dominance of Fremantle and kept spraying their shots.   An umpire helped out to get Steven Browne a shot at goals and they managed one on the siren but it wasn't enough. Fremantle went into the last quarter with the lead.

Mark Harvey was scared. He tried everything to stop them choking in the last quarter. He tried psychotherapy, hypnotherapy, medication , he even went around and gave each of the players a pre-emptive Heimlich manoeuvre - which raised some eyebrows amongst the Catholics. In the end, all he could do is hope that, come 30 minutes time, his players hadn't stopped.

Carlton knew they were in with a chance. They were the latest in a long line of teams to be sitting in the Fremantle slipstream. So they came out rejuvenated after their third quarter towelling up.

For all their intensity though, there's no substitute for class and Michael Johnson's poise and ability to navigate, tetris like, through opposition players, saw him hit Pavlich on the chest right in front of goals. Pav drilled it and Fremantle moved 9 points clear.

The work was there for Carlton to do, now. and Fremantle weren't going to surrender the lead easily.  Full of run, the Dockers fired the ball into their attack but couldn't quite break through the Carlton numbers.

But as the clock ticked down, the ball started drifting up the other end of the ground. The Freo defenders stood tall but it was looking dangerously familiar as they struggled to find options past the fifty.

More familiar was when they did move the ball forward and Matthew Pavlich took a mark, in the same spot as Fisher had earlier, not paid because he had only held the ball for 50 seconds and not the full minute required by a Fremantle player in the last quarter of a game. This week they didn't stop to argue and were there in numbers when the string of free kicks had the ball back in Carlton's half.

20 minutes in and Fremantle were growing in confidence.  Carlton hadn't looked like scoring and they had a 10 point buffer. 

Then trouble.

From 100 metres out, riding the boundary line, Andrew Carrazzo unloaded with a tired kick at goals. Someone in the Dome must have opened a door and the all just kept going and going and going, bouncing through for a freakish goal.

The Carlton crowd started to lift, Fremantle hearts started to sink. Surely not again.

Fremantle won the ball from the middle but couldn't keep it. Carlton ran the ball down the ground where, again, it was taken 5 metres over the boundary line with no whistle. Betts paddled the ball down the fence high fiving the supporters while the boundary umpire chatted up a bloke in the stands. He kicked it inside fifty, Stevens got hold of it and booted the Blues into the lead.

A bloke dropped a pin in South Terrace and they heard it in Hilton. It was happening again. The horror. The horror.

But wait.

Fremantle smashed their way out of the centre and got the ball to Pavlich – 30 metres out directly in front. He'd saved us.

He hit the post.

The clock ran down.

Fremantle lost.

All the sharp objects were removed from the changerooms.