3 minute read
Wines
Grape Expectations by Max Crus A pair of spectacles.
People lined the streets for kilometres and the most hallowed of venues filled to capacity.
More televisions tuned in than any other event in history.
All the pomp and pageantry that is afforded only those sharing and revering a long and rich history, steeped in troubles and turmoil, mystery and intrigue, all in the public gaze yet at the same time secreted behind the stone walls and the hallowed halls of tradition, always emerging stronger, more respected and more widely loved by loyal subjects, admired begrudgingly by its few dissenters.
A precision performance by the elite of the elite, culminating in a newly crowned leader.
A minute’s silence thought impossible given the crowds, and other periods of deathly quiet throughout the journey, intermittently broken by roars of admiration and approval.
Yes, a spectacle unprecedented and possibly never to be seen again in our lifetimes.. a grand final between the Cats and the Swans.
Incredible that in the long and rich history of Australian Football, never have these teams met in the decider for the greatest crown, the premiership cup, held in higher esteem even than the crown atop Liz’s coffin.
So yes, the crowds lined the streets of Melbourne, the MCG resplendent as always, the lawns mowed with the same precision as those of Buckingham Palace, or Balmoral, or Windsor, or Sandringham..how many bloody holiday homes have the Royalís got?
The entertainment as pompous, precise, colourful and coordinated and typically tacky as the Trooping of the Colours.
The battle itself worthy of any between the houses of Lancaster and York, back in the good old days when you weren’t just handed the throne, you had to fight for it, just like AFL. Sadly the minutes silence at this year’s contest was in support of indigenous players from Hawthorn - and surely other clubs it will transpire - another step in the slow and arduous process of reconciliation, truth, treaty and voice.
But even that blight from our continuing colonialist attitudes couldn’t dampen the spectacle of the greatest match in the greatest game in the world, with perhaps the appropriate outcome as the Cats mauled the Swans, whose owner is apparently the Monarch himself..or is that just all the Swans in England?
So, here’s an idea, now the Queen is gone, let’s change her birthday public holiday date and name to the Monday after the AFL grand final and finally celebrate the advent of a republic alongside the most republican of games on the same day. Cheers.
Tim Adams Clare Valley Shiraz
2019, $26. This is such good value, congratulate yourself on your cleverness in choosing it right to the last glass. Low wine miles too if you live in Clare.
9.4/10.
Tim Adams Clare Valley ‘Aberfeldy’
Shiraz 2018, $65. A wine nearly 15 per cent was perhaps not the wisest choice for the first sip after an AFW (Alcohol Free Week), but after the AFL? Sure, and we should all be drinking better, not more and you don’t need much of this to be satisfied. Aberfeldy sounds fuddy duddy and rather royal, but itís fine wine. 9.6/10.
Atze’s Corner Barossa Valley ‘Decadent’ 2018,
$25. Looking to go one better than Indulgent? Decadent will do, specially if you’ve got a corporate box at the big one. Thereís also an Opulent Shiraz, but this is suitably aged and reverential, yet at $25, utilitarian.
9.3/10. Atze’s Corner Barossa Valley ‘Indulgent’ GSM (Grenache, Shiraz, Mataro)
2020, $25. A new range from Atze’s Corner, which is an anachronistic little grandstand pocket in the forward pocket at the MCG, and what better beverage to share on Grand Final Day, or a Royal Funeral? Gets my vote. 9.4/10.
2020, $50. Like a royal scandal, this was a bit ‘puckering’ at first but opened up to a splendid fanfare of Victorian shiraz, perfect to enjoy while reminiscing Queen Vic’ herself or her architecture.
9.4/10. Heathcote Estate Heathcote Single
Vineyard Nebbiolo, 2021, $50. ‘Dry as a wooden God’, as Mum would say, so some suitable accompaniment is essential. Perhaps an open fire and Beef Wellington for Monarchists, a sunny lunch and fancy sausages for Republicans. 9.2/10.
