It will be no consolation to St Kilda, or its fans, but tonight at Etihad Stadium it played a heroic part in the best game of the season so far.

For the Saints, who went down by three points to Carlton after Andrew Walker's late set-shot goal stole the lead back for the Blues, now sit in 14th position on the ladder with one-and-a-half wins.

One place above the grand finalists of the past two seasons stand the league rookies, the Gold Coast Suns, with two wins. And you could have written your own ticket at the start of the season on that particular scenario playing out after seven rounds.

Teams have come back from more dire positions than this - Hawthorn last season won only one of its first seven before a barnstorming run resulted in a finals berth - but what worries about St Kilda is its lack of scoring power in attack. The Saints have the third least potent forward line and, until half-time tonight, had just two goalkickers on the board: Milne and Koschitzke.

What will please coach Ross Lyon, though, was the passion on display. This was the Saints we had come to know and admire: tough, ruthless, miserly, physical, niggardly and disciplined.

Every time Carlton captain Chris Judd went near the ball in the first half, he was set upon. Even off the ball, St Kilda players bumped and niggled him, at one stage Sam Gilbert knocking him off his feet well behind play.

That incident led to Judd barrelling into Gilbert at quarter-time, sparking an all-in melee that had Brendon Goddard and Saints' pest-in-chief Stephen Milne grappling with Judd, ripping his jumper and getting in his face. Expect a poultice of fines to arise from that one.

From the outset, the pace of the game was frantic and relentless. Carlton's forward line, with Garlett and Betts brilliant, always looked dangerous. At the other end, Chris Yarran, ran out of defence time and time again with a poise that belied the pressure he was often under, while Nick Duigan gave another good impression of a 10-year stalwart. For St Kilda, Leigh Montagna worked hard in the midfield, alongside Dal Santo and Schneider who were also very good, while Milne held the forward line together in the first half.

The hits came hard and often: Robert Warnock had a split eye bandaged up, Goddard a cut head also bandaged, Ed Curnow popped a shoulder, Andrew Walker dislocated a finger, Nick Duigan copped a whack in the stomach which forced him to bring up his dinner, and Michael Jamison added to that batch of fertiliser with his own contribution after Nick Riewoldt ran him to the point of exhaustion in the second half.

This was a great example of the modern game, with heavy physical clashes leavened by sublime skills, great courage and a scorching pace of play.

Carlton led by 20 points at half-time and looked to have the contest well in hand. The game's two champions, Riewoldt and Judd, were both unusually quiet, Riewoldt being well held by Jamison (who was winning too many of the one-on-one contests), and Judd lowering his colours to Sam Gilbert.

And when the Saints found themselves were 28 points down midway through the third quarter, it all looked very bleak. But they fought back - thanks to a resurgent Riewoldt, under-rated ruckman Ben McEvoy and Montagna - and began to take advantage of the tiring Blues. And when Jason Gram put them in front with a brilliant snapped goal late in the final term, there was talk in the TV commentary booth of a season-defining win, and it would indeed have breathed new life into a campaign that was threatening to deflate altogether.

Milne was unlucky not to receive a free when he had his arms chopped in a marking contest late in the quarter. Saints fans will also be cursing an umpiring decision in the first quarter when Bryce Gibbs was awarded a 50-metre penalty, which took him to the goalsquare, after Koschitzke was ruled to have sledged him from five or six metres away as he was lining up his long shot at goal. (But then a line-ball interchange infringement later gifted Goddard a goal, so perhaps those umpiring decisions evened themselves out.)

But just as the grand finalists looked like pulling off a grand heist, along came Mitch Robinson at half-forward who steered a neat pass to Walker about 35 metres out on a tightish angle. The No.1 took a deep breath and slotted the goal, sparking jubilant celebrations among the Carlton players moments later when the final siren sounded.

And, for the Saints, they once again squated on their haunches, overcome by that increasingly familiar feeling of dejection after being on the wrong end of yet another close game.