There is peak A-League, but this was something else. A heaving stadium, over-capacity thanks to last minute temporary seating. A late, unlikely equaliser. A sealer, celebrated in front of the travelling fans, to a shower of plastic bottles. A likeable underdog, a largely forgotten community, celebrated and acknowledged.
The re-launch of the A-Leagues under the Australian Professional Leagues (APL) has largely not gone to plan. Where it has, most agree the plan was a mistake. $140m in investment has been all but squandered, and clubs will be informed following an upcoming APL board meeting just how much money they will need to find to field a team next season.
But for 90 minutes, and then a further 30, on Saturday night that reality was not just easy to forget, it was irrelevant. This grand final was a fitting climax to a long season for the two clubsâ fans. For the neutrals too, it was full of stories and intrigue, even before a ball had been kicked.
The Mariners, chasing a treble in a first-ever Gosford grand final, up against Victory coach Tony Popovic, desperate to avoid another loss in a season decider. A Central Coast side with Vanuatuâs finest Brian Kaltak, incisive Josh Nisbet in midfield and 39-year-old goalkeeper Danny Vukovic. The Victorians, with shootout hero Paul Izzo between the sticks and naturalised Australian Bruno Fornaroli chasing his first championship.
And the contest was amplified by the rocking Gosford stadium. Not in the music sense, at least before Tom Pettyâs âI wonât back downâ blared out of the public address system at full-time. The place was rocking in the physical sense too.
As Vukovic celebrated the deciding goal, the TV camera tracing his movements wobbled with the moving grandstand. That shake is synonymous with significance. It is the visual expression of those present, their physical force passed on to those at home, making clear that, yes, this moment meant something.
An average of 316,000 viewers tuned into the Channel 10 match broadcast, and that figure actually increased to 346,000 for the post-game component. By comparison, the Marinersâ 6-1 defeat of Melbourne City in the 2023 grand final attracted 174,000. Paramount boasted 1.12m Australians took in at least some of the broadcast across its streaming service and Channel 10, a figure up 12% on the previous year.
The numbers arenât everything, however. A widely circulated column in Sundayâs papers bemoaned the decision to host the match in Gosford, when larger capacity stadiums were just down the highway. It complained of foregone revenue in ticket sales and corporate suites tallying $2m, and a limit on travelling Victory supporters as a loss for hoteliers and restaurateurs. It was met with criticism by footballâs loyal supporters. It also felt like it was written before the match played out.
Former Matilda and sports consultant Moya Dodd highlighted last month in the lead-up to the A-League Women grand final about the need for administrators to pursue a âfear of missing outâ when selecting venues. Doddâs words rang true three weeks later, when the game was confirmed for the 20,000-capacity venue in Gosford. The match sold out early in the week, and a sponsor stepped in to pay for temporary seating that would secure a crowd record of 21,379.
While Sydneyâs 45,000-seat Allianz Stadium is a state-of-the-art venue, and more tickets could have been sold had the match been held there, Gosfordâs modest arena became one of the nightâs key ingredients. From Patonga to Lake Macquarie, this was an evening of pride for the entire community, a party in their own backyard to which attendance was all but compulsory.
No individual encapsulated that sentiment more than the man rushing onto the field in a moon boot and kneeling on a scooter. Social media accounts lapped him up, and the image of the capped Coastie in his navy flanno wonât soon be forgotten. Indeed, it vindicated the APLâs decision to abandon its pursuit of revenue to sell grand final hosting rights to state governments, and instead reward the club â and the community â that earned it.
The man on the scooter was funny, but on such a night he also seemed somehow out of place. In recent years, the league has been seen as much as a comedy as a sporting competition. For many fans, its litany of embarrassment has been celebrated as âpeak A-Leagueâ. A psychiatrist might diagnose it as a coping mechanism: when the A-League gives you lemons, make memes. Celebrating the humour of the whole endeavour has kept a generation of supporters upbeat â and, make no mistake, the flash of the fan on TV screens certainly was irreverent â but Saturdayâs game offered something more.
At its best, football in Australia is about atmosphere, passion and tension. This was the formula injected into Saturday night. From two-goal hero Ryan Edmondson â who arrived at the club in January but was choking up with emotion at full-time â celebrating in front of travelling Victory supporters, to the spontaneous and slightly unnerving pitch invasion that had as its crescendo the raising aloft of Alou Kuol and his bloodied hair, these were experiences beyond Australian sportâs everyday. The APL may have foregone $2m in revenue, but they gained something far more valuable. A moment whose witnesses will for years be proud to say: I was there.
