If ever St Kilda was going to upset Collingwood tonight at the MCG, it needed everything to go its way. Like everything: the bounce of the ball, the set shots within 40 metres and the 50-50 umpiring decisions.

So much had changed since the two teams met in the grand final eight months ago: the Saints were missing seven of their line-up from the second match, not to mention a healthy slice of confidence which had - over a long and tumultuous summer - pretty much all evaporated. The Pies, meanwhile, were playing even better than last season, seemed to be having a lot of fun as they racked up the wins and were even considering sending a few players away to Arizona for some R&R. What a lark. The gulf in class, and confidence, between the two teams had become palpable.

But in the last seven minutes of the second quarter, the Saints got none of those breaks they so desperately needed.

And that meant a possible 10-point lead was turned into an eight-point half-time deficit. It also meant their momentum, which had been building nicely after Clint Jones, Stephen Milne and Jack Stevens had kicked the last three goals of the match, came to a sudden and screeching halt.

Captain Nick Riewoldt was offering a target at centre half-forward, despite being double-teamed, and was, as always, a gallant trier. But - and here's the rider - when he had a chance to build on his team's momentum, yet another set shot of his went wide at a crucial time.

The skipper took a strong mark in front of Ben Reid at the 20-minute mark of the quarter. The kick was taken pretty much dead in front, from maybe 40 metres. The Saints led by four points at the time.

Riewoldt took several deep breaths, concentrated hard and started his run-up with a look of determination creasing his face. But the shot started left, and never really looked like coming back. A miss. The Saints by five points. But it should have been 10.

It is unfair to lay all the blame at the feet of the big No.12 - so we won't, except to say, as many have before, that to be regarded as a great of the game, he just needs to kick more of these crunch goals. It's that simple. When the game is there on the line, and his teammates - and tens of thousands of fans - are willing him to drill that 40-metre shot right over the top of the goal umpire's hat, he has to deliver more often.

But the fact is his technique is wonky. And this dog is probably too old to be taught new tricks. Riewoldt drops the ball from too high - and just as there's many a slip twixt cup and lip - too much can go wrong from the time the Sherrin leaves his right hand till the time it lands on his right bootlaces. (A predecessor in the red-white-and-black forward line - one T Lockett - used to guide the ball on to his boot so closely, he all but kicked his hand.)

Over the next six minutes, the ball pinged between the two half-back lines - where each defence featured a loose man. Only nine goals had been scored in 55 minutes of football. 

Then came the crucial two minutes to finish the quarter, and the half.

Heath Shaw's long kick into the Collingwood forward line found Travis Cloke in the front position against Zac Dawson. Cloke stuck out his ample behind, stretched his arms out in front of him and - clunk - the ball stuck.

The notoriously erratic left-footer went back, sized up the angle from deep in the left pocket and slotted through the goal from 30 metres; a wonderful kick. Pies hit the front.

And then the killer. I couldn't say which field umpire made the decision but whoever it was - you know who you are - the call was an absolute stinker.

From a final Pies' centre clearance, the ball flew to a pack at centre-half forward. Dean Polo took what appeared to be a good mark but it was knocked from his hands after a second or two - and the umpire waved play on. You can just about guess what happened next - the ball spilled to Andrew Krakouer, who snapped from 30 metres and the ball (naturally) sailed through.

The Pies by eight points. Saints fans boo. St Kilda players remonstrate. Nick Maxwell leads the Pies in running off for half-time. Game effectively over.

As I said, everything needed to go right for the Saints to win - and even with a 10-point lead, there were obviously no guarantees they'd go on with it in the second half - but, in those few minutes before half-time, just about everything went wrong.

And the Saints once more had to trudge off the MCG while having to listen to Good Old Collingwood Forever - possibly with Eddie McGuire's beaming face lit up on the scoreboard as accompaniment.