Footy is a passion, not some cold hearted, spread sheet dominated rational exercise.

On a Monday, you want irrational reaction. You want emotion to trump reason.

What you really want is idiotic hysteria.

You've come to the right place.

Friday

Western Bulldogs (96) v Collingwood (93)

The first Wildcard Round certainly delivered a level of drama rarely seen outside of a Real Housewives franchise.

Whether you liked it is a bit based on who you barrack for.

The big take out is the Wildcard is chaos and, like your crazy uncle, it’s best avoided if you can.

The top six is now what matters, as anything lower is, well, a wildcard.

Friday night at the ‘G was buzzing. A packed MCG is one of the greatest sights you’ll ever see, like visiting the world’s biggest church, but spiritual.

Even better, two of the greatest players in the game were going at it, Nick Daicos and Marcus Bontempelli.

Both provided more highlights than most players have in an entire finals campaign.

The pressure out there was higher than changing a tyre in front of your mates.

The Bulldogs kept looking like they were going to break the game right open, but the Pies, in what I have to confess was impressive, kept finding answers.

The last ten minutes were footballing nirvana.

Desperation, lead changes, supporters losing their minds, players performing repeated acts of desperation, and me getting to watch it all with a beer in my hand.

Sometimes life is pretty good.

Then there was Tim Membrey, marking the ball just before the siren.

81,036 people held their breath as he went back to take his shot.

Nothing is like sport. Everyone knew in that moment that in ten seconds they were either going to be ecstatic or feeling the sort of hurt that haunts you for a very long time.

The ball went up. As it crossed the line, it seemed a lot in the crowd thought it was a goal, but quickly reality asserted itself.

Bulldogs fans rejoiced; a win against the Pies in a quasi-final would make anyone happy.

Pies fans, however, had to quickly process the loss and then see off Steele Sidebottom, as good a servant of a club as anyone could ever want.

Then they got the news that Scott Pendlebury was off to quasi-AFL club, the Suns.

Football is a cruel beast.

The highs are so high, but the lows. The lows are soul destroying.

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Saturday

Melbourne (55) v Carlton (74)

Speaking of soul-destroying, the last 48 hours have left me flatter than a pancake. The flattest pancake in history. So thin you need a microscope to see it.

Even worse, against my better judgement, I have quite a few friends who are Blues fans and their happiness is like acid dripping into my eyes.

Even worse, I must admit the Blues were just better.

The first quarter showed how good the Dees are when they’re playing free-flowing football, so the hooded one made sure they couldn’t play free-flowing football.

The change in the Blues is truly astounding. Under Fraser, players who seemed incapable of handling pressure now apply it.

The Dees, much like against the Bulldogs the week before, had too many players playing below the standard they’ve set themselves all year.

Missing their key forward, Jacob van Rooyen and their key back, Jake Lever, certainly didn’t help, but they still had enough pieces out there to win.

It was a painful end to a terrific season, one that can be built off, but it’s hard for Dees fans to feel that yet. Give me a few weeks.

I just need to learn to suppress my anger that we were playing in a wildcard game at all. Am I bitter? Only on a level that transcends normal human emotion.

As for the Blues, we now get to see how far a wildcard team can go. They’ve been the story of the season.

A Jekyll and Hyde change that has catapulted their fans into a level of happiness they perhaps thought they’d never feel again.

Blues fans know pain, and it’s that pain that makes them now feel a joy you can’t find taking anything legal.

Football is a strange beast.

The lows are low, but the highs. The highs are pure joy.

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