Adrian Barich: Why THAT kick from Dom Sheed will go down as one of sport's most exciting moments

West Australian

9 hours ago

If given the chance, would you like to hold the destiny of a team, club, state or even a nation in your own hands? It's a good question, isn't it?
If you could be the difference between sporting success and failure, would you accept the challenge?
Please pause while reading this and ask whomever you're with (maybe even call someone) and ask, if offered the chance, would you want to be Dom Sheed on that afternoon in September in 2018 at the MCG?
Would you want to be on the runway jumping for Olympic gold in Beijing?
Injured and against the odds, would you want to have one more jump like Steve Hooker needing to over 5.96m on his final attempt. No second chances. Just ice in the veins, and possible gold around the neck.
Or Cathy Freeman in 2000. With the entire nation on her back, after a build-up that included lighting the Olympic cauldron. She won gold with 112,000 people in the stands and billions watching on TV.
Some athletes can withstand the pressure and deliver in key moments.
It's almost 20 years since John Aloisi converted that penalty that sent 80,000 fans at ANZ Stadium into raptures as the Socceroos qualified for the FIFA World Cup for the first time since 1974.
If you had the choice, would you have wanted to be in Aloisi's boots that night?
To do one thing that you will always be remembered for, for the rest of your life.
Fail though and you'll be left with all the ugly questions.
Do you want to be Adam Gilchrist, smashing 149 off 104 in a World Cup Final, with a squash ball hidden in his glove. On the biggest stage, Gilly didn't flinch — he flourished.
In the NRL, it was Johnathan Thurston, who iced the 2015 Grand Final with a golden point field goal, the smile hiding his killer instinct.
Or on the biggest stage of all, the Augusta National, no one delivered under pressure quite like Tiger Woods. That chip-in on the 16th in 2005. Tiger made the impossible look easy.
That was mental toughness and absolute belief under the most intense spotlight in sport.
But would you want to be in the cauldron at that moment? Be the one that must deliver? I won't list them but plenty of sports people are remembered for choking at the worst possible time.
Who wants to do something that every kid dreams of. To have destiny in your own hands.
Choose me, gods of the game. Let destiny land at my feet. Call my name, footy god — let this be my moment. To be the master of the clutch play.
This will seem over the top but when they asked me to write a match report after Dom Sheed kicked
that
goal in the 2018 grand final, I wrote: 'The red Sherrin in Dom Sheed's hands wasn't just a football, it was the beating heart of Western Australia. As he lined up for that improbable kick, it was as though he held the hopes, the pride and the very soul of a State that had waited decades for this chance, almost pulsating in the leathery grip of that ball.'
Four million watched that day, probably two million were supporting West Coast and the other half Collingwood — the Pies are that polarising.
And in the households in Perth the noise that exploded in the lounge rooms when Sheed slotted the goal, not with some wacky kick around the corner but the standard drop punt, was pure, unfiltered chaos. It starts as a sharp intake of breath, then the room erupts. Cushions fly. Drinks spill. Voices crack in disbelief as everyone leaps to their feet.
It was a primal sound, not polished or pretty, but full of heart. The kind of noise that only comes when everything's on the line and somehow, your team delivers.
Walls shake. The dog bolts. It's not just celebration: it's a release, it's relief and raw joy, all packed into a single, unforgettable moment.
To deliver in the biggest moment of his life was unforgettable for Dom. My friends at King Eddies have told me that from October 2018 through most of 2019, Dom or Dominic was the most popular name for newborn boys. While even some of the newborn girls were even getting Dominique or just Dom.
The Americans have a lot of these ultimate childhood fantasy moments.
World Series, bottom of the ninth, one on and two outs, down by one and Kirk Gibson, with two injured knees hits a home run.
In basketball, few moments are as iconic as Michael Jordan's game-winning shot in the 1989 NBA Playoffs. With the score tied at 100 and seconds on the clock Jordan swished the net as the buzzer sounded, sealing victory for the Bulls. This moment exemplified Jordan's legendary 'clutch' gene.
MJ a good example of a unique breed of athlete who doesn't just handle pressure — they feed off it.
These are the players who somehow find another level when it matters most. They don't just perform, they decide outcomes.
Call it 'ice in the veins'. Call it 'big moment magic'.
Moments of bravery like Nina Kennedy's clutch clearance at 4.90m in Budapest, under intense global pressure, cementing her as one of the best in the world. Calm, fierce and fearless when it mattered most.
The truth is that sport doesn't remember the ordinary. It remembers those moments.
These athletes remind us why we watch sport, for performance under pressure. For those rare times when greatness meets the moment and says: Give me the ball. I've got this!