THE chemistry between Brendan Fevola and his football club has always been a dangerous thing, either for those who encounter them when their passion is raging, or for themselves when their union has hit rocky ground.
When both happen in the one game, it can move the Earth, and so it was last night.
Carlton trailed the Western Bulldogs by 37 points 11 minutes into the third quarter, at which point Fevola had one goal, one hell of a strop, courtesy of Brian Lake's migraine-like hold, and even less reason to think that the resumption of his contract negotiations at season's end might keep him in navy blue next year. His first-half disinterest often bordered on comical.
By game's end, he had kicked six, the Blues had kicked 12 of the last 14 and all six of the last quarter, and the football equivalent of the class nerd snaring a supermodel had happened before a bug-eyed audience that bordered on orgasmic.
If not for a 150th game from Chris Judd that some might rate better than sex, Fev might have been best-afield. At game's end, he ran half the length of the ground — almost half the length of the ground further than he could be bothered running in the first half — to present his captain with the match ball.
Another Sherrin was found by Bryce Gibbs and handed to Simon Wiggins, whose feat in almost qualifying for long-service leave on the way to his 100th game has earned him cult status among the faithful. His four-goal haul across half forward completed the fantasy.
All of which left the Bulldogs destined to feel the cold shoulder of another week spent highlighting their faults and questioning their worth, and after blowing a gift-wrapped chance to respond in the most meaningful way, they can hardly say they never saw it coming. Whatever the result of the post-mortem, one thing is certain: the 1954 strip they donned to mark what would have been EJ Whitten's 75th birthday was not done justice.
Challenged in the third quarter and precariously placed at the last change, the Dogs cried out for someone to lead them home. Instead, they finished with captain Brad Johnson on the bench, Jason Akermanis reduced to shadow boxing with his marker Andrew Walker, having failed to get near the ball, and Adam Cooney unable to match Judd's ability to make hearts skip a beat.
As is the way when love goes bad, it was impossible to see what had made them so irresistible such a short time ago.
The Bulldogs took time to settle, struggling to find a way past Jarrad Waite, who was loose in their forward line and mustered seven possessions in the first nine minutes. But once Ben Hudson dropped back to him, they found a way through and appeared to be untroubled.
Carlton's attacking arc was a busy and confused place, its central figure cursing and pouting after a first-quarter incident in which he led, marked, received a 50-metre penalty, clipped Lake over the ear to rub it in, and had the ball taken off him. For a good while, it looked like summing up his evening.
While the behind-the-scenes courting between "Swan" Lake and Fevola was compulsory viewing for the umpires, the game went on around them and the Bulldogs cleared away.
Few teams more enjoy the opportunity to hit the opposition on the break more than the slick and skilful Dogs, who with Dale Morris, Lindsay Gilbee and Ryan Hargrave marshalling affairs from the back and Daniel Cross under the packs were able to spirit the ball forward with ease. Johnson, Mitch Hahn, Josh Hill and Jarrod Harbrow lapped up the spoils.
Carlton, meanwhile, was undone by a tendency to be butter-fingered, and when even the imperious Judd missed — not once, not twice but three times — it seemed that if even he of the shaved scone and brilliant ball handling could not find the target, his team was beyond helping.
Judd had Cooney, Matthew Boyd and Ryan Griffen for company at various stages and beat them all, and when Gibbs, Marc Murphy and Andrew Carrazzo stepped up to help out the balance in the middle swung decisively.
And then it was the Dogs who began to fumble and fluff their lines, Andrejs Everitt caught napping and Farren Ray coughing it up just two examples of pick-up lines they would prefer to have over. And so the dance floor was cleared, and Fev sashayed in to strut his stuff. CARLTON
2.4 5.8 12.13 18.18 (126) W BULLDOGS
3.3 10.4 15.6 15.8 (98) GOALS — Carlton: Fevola 6, Wiggins 4, Kreuzer 3, Stevens, Murphy, Judd, Betts, Scotland.
Western Bulldogs: Johnson 3, Hahn 3, Hill 2, Harbrow 2, Murphy, Boyd, Gilbee, Giansiracusa, Minson.
BEST — Carlton: Judd, Stevens, Fevola, Carrazzo, Wiggins, Murphy.
Western Bulldogs: Cross, Gilbee, Hargrave, Morris, Giansiracusa.
INJURIES — Western Bulldogs: Williams (shoulder) replaced in selected side by Everitt. Addison (knee).
UMPIRES: Kennedy, Meredith, Avon.
CROWD: 37,879 at Telstra Dome.
THE UPSHOT: The Bulldogs will still finish top four but, on their recent results, can be thankful they had wins in the bank. They have five weeks to sort things out, and by any measure have plenty of work to do. Meanwhile, the Blues continue to show they will be a finals force sooner rather than later.
TALKING POINT: The Bulldogs' last quarters. In the past two rounds they have faded badly when they have been either right in or leading matches at three-quarter-time. Last week, against Geelong, they kicked 1.1 to 8.5 in the last term; this week, they could manage only two behinds to the Blues' 6.5. Carlton kicked the last nine goals of the match.
HOT AND COLD: A toss-up between Jason Akermanis and Brendan Fevola. Aka, a supposed Brownlow favourite, has barely had a touch in the past two weeks. As for Fevola, despite having kicked three goals, he was having a dirty day until the final term. All of a sudden he presented magnificently and booted another three.