No wonder the Mariners were so pleased to repatriate Danny Vukovic – the life and football experiences the Socceroos keeper brings to a dressing room were laid bare in this raw and personal column published on KeepUp in May.
From a red card to saving penalties in a shoot-out, it’s fair to say that my experiences of four Grand Finals have been pretty mixed.
Three of them came at now-demolished Allianz Stadium by coincidence, scene of the deepest lows and the sort of highs you dream of as a footballer. It’s all made me the player I am today, and at 37 I have experiences that I would never have believed possible.
I was only 20 when the A-League Men kicked off, with just a handful of appearances in the dying days of the NSL to my name. Thanks to an injury to John Crawley, now the Socceroos goalkeeping coach, suddenly I was first choice in a team heading for the grand final in that first season.
I remember how scary it was, playing in front of an atmosphere like I’d never experienced – a full house at Allianz, or close to. I was full of nerves and uncomfortably aware of the quality of players that Sydney had – but actually we ran them really close.
Two years later, how lucky was I? Back at Allianz, back in the grand final, and this time we were minor premiers. But history will show how it all went wrong; how, as we chased an equaliser in the last seconds, my frustration at the referee missing a handball spilled over and my hand made contact with his arm.
In the end I served a lengthy ban, though that in itself became a saga as FIFA got involved. But I swore to myself that at 22, this would not define my career. I would go on to achieve other things in the game, hopefully win trophies but carve out a career based on my football. It’s one of my proudest achievements that this is what has played out.
I thought my shot at redemption would come in 2012, when Perth got through to the Grand Final – ironically we beat the Mariners on penalties in the semi-final. Facing Ange Postecoglou’s fantastic Brisbane side we gave it everything – and until the 84th minute we were ahead.
Then Besart Berisha did what he does; snatching an equaliser, and winning a penalty in the last seconds. As he shot it past me, all the disappointment and pain of losing a big game welled up again.
Until that point, football had largely been my life. But things off the pitch went so wrong that it affected my ability to play entirely, and made me realise the importance of every part of your life working together.
In 2015 my partner and I realised our son Harley had a problem with his liver, one that would require a transplant. I had moved to Melbourne Victory for family and medical reasons, but it was impossible to play to the best of my ability when every away trip meant I had to be away from my family at the peak of our stress.
It was the worst year of my career in terms of how I played, and at the end of it I asked Victory for a release to go back to Sydney, so my partner and I could be close to family for support. As it turned out, the dominoes fell in a way I couldn’t have predicted.
Over that season, 2016-17, Harley had a transplant which took, and made rapid progress towards recovery. On the pitch, this was the first year I tried meditation before games, to make me calmer and able to make better decisions.
Graham Arnold got us all to work on the mental side of the game, and I found it really helpful – in fact, I’ve never stopped doing meditation before I play. As the season went on we swept all before us, and quickly we were back in the Grand Final – against Melbourne Victory, my old team.
An epic game was settled by an epic shoot-out; I made the vital save, and Milos Ninkovic scored the winning penalty.
My whole football life was changed by that season at Sydney. I got on to the radar for the national team, and earned a move to Europe where I’m playing still.
I’m proud of it all, and proud of the fact that just as I swore to myself in 2008, I believe my football record is defined by trophies and performances, not one brain snap.
The Grand Final is a uniquely Australian experience – and when you win one after losing previous attempts, it’s the most fantastic feeling.