It's been a long, tough season for Fremantle. Narrow losses, heartbreaking defeats, more what if's than a Pakistani phone book and a line of critics waiting to pelt blokes with fruit no matter which way they turn.  But in troubling times you get the opportunity to try out new ideas, different match ups and crazy new techniques. Fremantle have pretty much tried them all this year in their effort to curb the tendency for players to stand still in the last quarter but, late on Friday night, Mark Harvey hit on a new and brilliant idea.

His dvd recorder was broken so he had to stay up late to watch the double o double five ads. He flicked the channel and got caught up in Greg Norman's performance at the golf. An aged golfer was playing some of the best golf of his life and was leading a field of the modern day greats. There was only one thing to do.

First thing Saturday he got on the phone and starting ringing retired women tennis players to try and hook them up with his players. Things were looking good. He got a few acceptances and had them on the first plane to Perth. Unfortunately, things turned sour on Sunday morning. Martina Hingis arrived ok but when she saw the sniffer dog at customs she hopped straight back on the plane to Switzerland. Anna Kournikova never arrived, getting confused when they announced a 'Final Call' at the  Moscow Airport and just assumed it couldn’t be for her. Steffie Graf set down first thing Sunday morning and was all set for Josh Carr to show her the town but a Transperth Bus drove past and she took offence to the ad on the side and flew back home to Andre.

So, it wasn't surprising that confidence was at an all time low by the time bounce down came around.  Dressed in an outfit modelled on the Pigs in Space uniform, Melbourne ran rings around the Dockers from the get go. 

The Demons had their first goal on the board in a couple of minutes and managed to keep the footy from Fremantle until they kicked their next five minutes later. 

As Fremantle started getting their hands on the ball it wasn't hard to see why they hadn't been able to get near it. They couldn't hit a target, they couldn't take a mark and some of them were struggling to run in a straight line without falling over.  If the Melbourne players’ teammates had given them the sort of delivery the Freo boys were dishing out to them, all season, they'd be up the other end of the ladder.

When Fremantle did get the ball forward, Morton rushed a behind and became the top scorer for both sides.  It was getting ugly and the Melbourne goals just kept coming. By quarter time, Fremantle still hadn't kicked a goal and were sitting 29 points behind the bottom side.

The crowd were turning. There was a murmur of discontent, the sort that usually results in talkback radio being flooded with callers who are going to be handing back their memberships. But there was still some hope. Mark Harvey had sent out a photo Shaun McManus at a players' review and Martina Navratilova had come calling.

The Dockers returned a new side. Not a new side that could kick well but they had their hearts back in it. They peppered the goals, quickly equalling their first quarter score before Mark Jamar jagged one against the flow of play.

Fremantle weren't deterred though. Something was building.

They were whisking the ball out of the middle but the first goal just didn't want to come. The points continued to build until finally Garrick Ibbotson casually picked the ball up from the ground, eased onto his right and snapped a beauty.  You could almost hear the chant of Freee-oooo coming on the sea breeze.

Once one had gone through, the rest started to come with ease. Scott Thornton started to get his centre square dash going and picked out an unusually unmarked Pavlich on fifty. Pav dobbed it. 

Byron Schammer snapped one after Chris Mayne made it his personal mission to make sure the Demons couldn't get the ball out of Freo's fifty. Josh Carr slotted one through when Morton's confidence outgrew his ability. And, of course, Pav was on hand once again to level the scores when a stunning run from Brett Peake landed the footy in Pav's hands, just in time for half time.

It was a stunning comeback. Fremantle had bottomed out for the season in the first quarter and bounced back to completely shut Melbourne out of the game. But for all the excitement of it, what really had the crowd abuzz was the startling form of a youngster by the name of McManus. Raking kicks down the boundary line, straight onto the chest of a team mate; bone crunching tackles on fleet footed, nimble speed Demons; and hands that appeared to be coated with some sort of glue. He was a star in the making. No wonder there are so many good lesbian tennis players.

Mark Harvey wasn't sure exactly which of his kooky quarter time moves had worked to turn the game on its head but he wasn't going to bugger it up now. He left things as they were, gave some bland, ineffectual comments  that he'd read in John Worsfold's notebook and only stole a couple of handfuls of the players' lollies.  When he was done, he sent them on their way, headed to his box and hoped that Fremantle's form didn't fade as quickly as it had appeared.

When the third quarter started and Shaun McManus shrugged off a tackle on the half forward flank, ran around the boundary line, kept going halfway down the Eagles players race and slotted through a goal from an impossible angle, Mark Harvey sat back and relaxed. That doesn't happen unless it's your day.

Brad Miller getting the reply a minute later may have seen him edge his way forward in the chair but, as Fremantle hit their stride, Melbourne became little more than some gayly dressed bystanders.

The goals kept coming as Fremantle's makeshift midfield, led by Andrew Browne, the Six Million Dollar Insurance Liability Man, dominated in a manner not seen by Fremantle fans in a long time (outside of a Derby).

A tenacious Brock O'Brien had been setting the tone for his more senior team mates and gave himself a bit of a reward when he went the bolt from the centre circle and unloaded from fifty to bring the house down. Mark Harvey's complete refusal to move Luke McPharlin into defence during the first quarter thrashing was starting to look 'courageous' when McPharlin pulled down a screamer in the pocket and played on, Paul Medhurst style, to snap his first.

The lead was growing and Melbourne weren't looking any more likely to get a kick. Pavlich decided to step back into the fray and put through two long goals with a level of accuracy that can only be measured by slowing down time and looking at them through special plutonium lined telescopes.

Aaron Sandilands, buoyed by blokes actually reading his taps, rounded out the scoring for the quarter when he slid along the ground, digging up half of Subiaco Oval and causing a small tidal wave on the Swan River in the process, to take a mark before jumping to his feet and gaoling Fremantle's eleventh.

It was a spectacular effort by the Dockers. Down out and out, for the season and the match, they fought back from certain defeat to have their opposition slumped over, beaten, with their pants around their ankles heading to their three quarter time address.

The Fremantle crowd were pretty pleased with events. Some were thinking about leaving to beat the traffic – just because they could, others were choreographing a mexican wave and others were counting their money after laying a few bob on the Dockers at the very attractive quarter time odds.

The worry was, though, that Fremantle had let this mob back in from 51 point down in their match earlier in the year, so there were still a few of your card carrying grumble bum types refusing to get carried away with the excitement of seeing a second win at Subi Oval.
 
When the fourth quarter started and Chris Tarrant took a screamer and slotted through a goal from a directly in front, they sat back and relaxed. That doesn't happen unless it's your day.

With the score blown out, it just became a victory procession for Fremantle. Brett Peake went for a run out of the centre and unloaded from fifty to bring the house down. McPharlin put through a couple to kick start the wave; and Pav kicked his fifth as the margin passed the 10 goals point tipping the result over from a pantsing to a potential shellacking.

Mindful though that percentage is all important in the race for the spoon, they let the Demons kick a few conciliation goals to help them send the Eagles to the bottom. They pulled them up a couple short still, to keep the mob up the road guessing until Demolition Derby 08. There are just some jobs you just need to do yourself.