Our competition is a stand-alone and so it has its quirks and follies.
In our competition, once a player has been chosen, nobody else can pick him. You start with the highly ranked ball-magnets and end up with rookies who may or may not get a game and full-backs like Darren Glass, who don’t touch the ball too often.
My beef is that goals are worth only three points whereas I think they should be worth six. In our competition, the players who kick the goals are underrated.
Every year I bring up my beef about goalkickers with our draft convenor, who calls himself the Lord of the Draft. Every year he dismisses my suggestion with a shrill giggle and a wave of his hand. "The Lord has spoken," he says.
The beauty of our game is that once it's done it's done. There's not the weekly weighing-up of players because you can't trade until the mid-season draft, which is held after the Queen's birthday long weekend.
In that draft you can drop a few players who are injured or no good and pick up a few players who were overlooked in the March draft. Otherwise you sit back and let the season unfurl.
And so on a day of perfect sunshine, with not a breath of wind, we sat down around a table in a dark hotel, up to our necks in pencils, highlighters and reams of details on the heights, weights and star signs of every player on an AFL list.
It was fine thing, it felt right, to be sitting among men who find great joy in tossing up between Alan Toovey and Jake King at pick 21.
The first player to go was Aaron Sandilands, which is the same every year because he gets so many hit-outs.
Then it was Gary Ablett and Buddy Franklin. In a mild controversy, Dane Swan made it through to the sixth selection before he was snapped up. I chose Matt Boyd with my first selection, which was pick 15.
And so it continued. The wit and banter flowed, with comments across the table after each selection.
On Robbie Gray: "The poor man’s Gary Ablett."
On Daniel Pratt: "He’s slowly growing into his name."
On Brodie Martin: "Is Brodie the new Jarrad?"
One of my rivals picked several veterans before trying to make up for it by drafting 15-year-olds.
Another gave in to his annual tradition of choosing Brad Ottens even though he knows fully well that Ottens' injuries will prevent him playing more than half a season. "It’s like a drug," he said.
I overturned my policy of recent years of trying to go by the numbers, of choosing solid, consistent players who were guaranteed to bring in 25-35 points a week. Instead, I just went for players I like.
Nat Fyfe? He was rated around pick 20 but I took him with my 13th selection because I remembered he had heard he was drafted by Fremantle while he was driving a tractor on the family farm.
I also like the fact that he's got hands the size of Stewie Loewe's. Hell, I wondered why I hadn’t taken him earlier.
Next up was Andrew Collins, whose father once asked me to play for the club he coached, Bridgewater, just out of Bendigo. I believe Richmond was stupid to let Collins go. I lifted him from a ranking around 18 and took him with my 14th pick.
Then it was Jed Adcock, who I interviewed after Brisbane had drafted him a few years ago. I really liked him when I interviewed him. He was rated around the 22 mark but I took him at No.15 with a bullet.
And on it went.
Every year it's my practice to make sure I have a player from every team, just so I can have an interest in every match. With a few rounds to go, I had no player from Sydney or St Kilda.
I filled the Sydney gap by plumping for Nick Smith, a forward cum tagger who went through school at Melbourne's Scotch College, so he must know discipline.
Then it was my brilliant plan to fill my St Kilda vacancy by taking first-year player Jamie Cripps. Cripps last year played the entire season with the East Fremantle seniors.
He's fast, which is exactly what the Saints need. Surely, no one else had heard of Cripps. I planned to slip him in with my last selection.
Then, what do you know, one of my rivals jumped in before me. This rival said he had been speaking to a St Kilda mate the night before and the mate had suggested taking Cripps with a late pick. His reasons were the same ones I just mentioned. What a cheat! I had never been so gutted about missing out on an untried teenager.
As it happens, I took Tony Armstrong with my last pick. Armstrong had showed plenty with Adelaide last season. I had no idea know why the bozos ahead of me had overlooked him.
