Trans-Tasman Netball League grand final: What on earth was that?

If you’re reading this report, I’m going to assume you didn’t watch the grand final of the Trans-Tasman Netball League yesterday.

Because if you had, you would still be staring at your television, mouth open in shock, rendering you unable to open an internet-enabled device and read anything. So please read the rest of this in a very pitying tone, because if you did indeed miss it, I feel very sorry for you.

Although my dad has told me a million times not to exaggerate, I think it’s safe to say that was the greatest game of anything that has ever been played by humans in the history of our existence. Not the whole history of the world you ask? Well let’s not go over the top, for all we know there may have been an amazing ping pong game between a couple of apes and a Tyrannosaurus Rex millions of years ago that didn’t even get broadcast. Check your privilege guys.

The pre-match was thankfully without too many references to State of Origin, which was a relief to the Firebirds’ New South Welsh players, who had been a bit worried about the calls from the Swifts’ uniform department, asking for their measurements; and the Victorian, English and Jamaican players, who were hoping to be allowed to participate in the match after doing all the work to qualify to be there.

From the moment the first whistle blew, it was obvious that this would indeed be a game of four quarters.

It was a bit of a shame the umpires were so traditional and didn’t allow the players to choose their preferred match fractions – it would have been a pleasant change to see a game of three thirds, or a game of one whole, or Sharni Layton’s preferred format – a game of 17 17ths, where each 17th lasted the full 15 minutes of a regular quarter. No amount of netball is too much for that woman.

The Swifts got on top early, with basketball convert Gretel Tippett looking a bit shaky and nervous in the opening minutes.

This was visual music to the eyes of those netball fans who want nothing more than for basketball and everyone who has ever been associated with the game to be banished to the ends of the earth.

It was a less welcome sight for Firebirds fans who were just urging her to throw it to the giant human under the post who makes all the goals happen.

Tippett and the Firebirds settled into the game, but the Swifts managed to hold their lead – Tippett was offered a chance at redemption at the end of the quarter, with a late shot on goal, but failed to take it, effectively throwing a petrol bomb on basketball’s death fire. Just don’t tell Stephen Curry, he’ll be devastated.

As the Firebirds had gone into the grand final as favourites, there seemed to be a general expectation that at some point in the not-too-distant future they would step it up a gear and destroy the interstate pretenders.

But the Swifts refused to be destroyed, with captain Kim Green emphatically answering the questions about whether she’d be able to last the game in the positive, goal attack Susan Pettitt continuing to enrage her fans by playing career-best netball after not being selected in the Diamonds squad for the World Cup and the devastatingly brilliant Sharni Layton and Julie Corletto being devastatingly brilliant in defence.

Half-time had the Firebirds checking the script of the game – surely this wasn’t how it was meant to be going? Fortunately coach Rosalee Jencke was on hand to remind them that this wasn’t Masterchef or even The Bachelor and they had to win it of their own accord, without any assistance from the producers.

The second half saw a more concerted effort from the Firebirds, but whether their intention was to win the game or put an end to the very concept of Julie Corletto, we can’t be certain.

Corletto stuck her nose in where it didn’t belong, namely Romelda Aiken’s elbows, and anyone tuning in at the point when she was being tended to by both teams’ physios and heard courtside reporter Sarah Allen wailing “there’s blood everywhere” would be forgiven for thinking they were watching a war documentary or an episode of ‘Dance Moms’.

After giving Corletto a quick blood transfusion on the sideline, she was back playing and lasted a good few minutes before the blood loss really kicked in and she tackled some off court signage, believing it to be her opponent, Bill Shorten.

Yes, this was indeed a match that swung like Ben Hilfenhaus’ bowling, by which I mean, very occasionally, but at very key moments. Just as everyone had finally decided to write off the Firebirds once and for all and award the game to the Swifts (which, for the record, would be quite unconventional) the Queenslanders – and pseudo-Queenslanders – decided it was time to play.

They came out hard, with inspirational captain Laura Geitz doing her typically inspirational thing (I thought we talked about this Laura? You were going to get some new moves, remember?) and forcing some important turnovers.

With one minute to go, Swifts centre Paige Hadley realised that Corletto hadn’t sustained a ridiculous injury in minutes and decided to fill the void by throwing herself at Caitlyn Nevins’ knee.

She seemed a little shocked that this resulted in being quite badly winded. She was escorted from the court in a daze and the Firebirds marched on. With scores level, they offered Tippett one final shot at redemption and this time she took it, giving the Firebirds the lead for the first time in the match with 12 seconds remaining. The Swifts had the centre pass and – you guessed it – Geitz managed to pull the ball in and stop them from taking the game into extra time. We get it Laura, you’re a goddess.

And with that, madness descended on the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. Giant women piling on top of each other, purple and yellow confetti raining from the ceiling, ridiculously cute little girls presenting the medals and the most insane part of all – eloquent and gracious speeches from sports people. Utter chaos.

So, here we are, our lives empty and meaningless, wandering the streets like zombies, crying bitterly until it’s time for the Netball World Cup to begin. 46 days without netball, how will we cope? At least we know we’ll have Laura Geitz to inspire us through it, no doubt by doing something like intercepting some key filing from her fans, ensuring they don’t have to stay late at work on a Friday.

I take it all back Laura. Keep up your inspirational ways. Never change.