As one, Hawthorn fans rose to their feet, jaws dropped, mouths hung wide open and hands were thrown out as if to say, “How did that happen?” No one could properly answer the question, but we all knew how it made us feel.
A teenage Rioli lights up the 2008 grand final. Photo: Paul Rovere
There were seven minutes left in the third quarter of the 2008 grand final. With the Hawks a goal up, Cyril found himself outnumbered three to one on the wing – he fought, he tackled, he tapped, he dispossessed, he dived, he tapped, he tackled again and won the ball. The 18-year-old first-year player had no right winning that ball but he left the Geelong trio dazed and confused as he executed a heist under the glare of over 100,000 people.
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Genuine sporting superstars leave you wide-eyed wondering how they did it. If Federer glides, Jordan floated, Bolt jogged and Ali danced, then Cyril appeared … in different locations, without notice. There were times when I didn’t see Cyril move but all of a sudden there he was tackling a terrified defender, spoiling an unwitting midfielder or at the bottom of a pack tapping the Sherrin to advantage.
If Cyril was 50 metres away, he was “in the contest”. He was unbelievable, unexplainable, unreal. This is why he made us feel the way we did. He infused us fans with something special – it wasn’t really butterflies, but it was more than excitement.