The Night the Grass Vanished: Remembering the Last to Kick 100 Goals
A Moment Frozen in Time
The atmosphere was electric, thick with the kind of anticipation that feels heavy in the lungs. Franklin entered that Round 22 clash sitting on 98 goals, a number that seems like a fantasy in today's defensive climate where a 60-goal season earns you an All-Australian blazer. He got the first one out of the way early, but the tension built as the clock ticked toward the moment he would finally break the barrier. When he eventually snapped that century-making goal through the big sticks, the security guards stood no chance. Thousands of fans flooded the turf in a swarm of brown and gold, a visual reminder of an era when the individual superstar was the sun around which the entire tactical solar system orbited. It was glorious, messy, and—in hindsight—the final gasp of the traditional full-forward's dominance.
Why 2008 Changed Everything
People don't think about this enough, but that 2008 season was a perfect storm of individual brilliance and a specific tactical window that has since slammed shut. Hawthorn used Franklin as a mobile weapon, but they still played a brand of footy that allowed a single target to dominate the scoring. Since then, the "Buddy 100" has aged like a fine wine, or perhaps like a relic in a museum, because the statistical drop-off since that night has been staggering. No one has even come particularly close, with the Coleman Medal frequently being won with totals in the low 60s or 70s. The thing is, the game didn't just get faster; it got smarter, and that intelligence has been directed almost entirely toward nullifying the once-mighty spearhead.
The Death of the Spearhead: Tactical Shifts That Killed the Century
The Rise of the Defensive Web
If you look at the heat maps from a 1990s game compared to today, the difference is nightnight and day. Back when Tony Lockett or Jason Dunstall were regular members of the 100-goal club, they operated in a "corridor" that was largely theirs to command. Now? The space is gone. Coaches like Alastair Clarkson and Ross Lyon pioneered defensive structures—often referred to as "the squeeze" or "the web"—that effectively congested the forward fifty to the point of claustrophobia. I honestly think that if you dropped 1993 Gary Ablett Sr. into a 2024 defensive setup, he would still be incredible, but he would be fighting through three layers of zone coverage before he even saw the leather. But players today aren't just fighting one defender; they are fighting an entire system designed to ensure the ball never reaches them in a one-on-one contest.
The Intercept Defender as a Tactical Weapon
Modern football has birthed a new kind of protagonist: the intercepting half-back. Players like Darcy Moore or Jeremy McGovern have arguably done more to prevent the 100-goal season than any rule change or fitness evolution. They read the eyes of the midfielders, peeling off their own man to spoil or mark the ball before it ever reaches the designated full-forward. This changes everything because the risk-reward ratio of "long down the line to the big man" has shifted heavily toward the risk category. Teams now prefer to "chip and charge," searching for a distributed scoring model rather than relying on a single, predictable target. It is a more efficient way to win games, yet it is undeniably less romantic for the spectator who wants to see a single gladiator kick ten on a Saturday afternoon.
Midfielders are Keeping the Ball for Themselves
Where it gets tricky is looking at the disposal counts. Midfielders now rack up 35-40 touches with regularity, but their first instinct is rarely to look deep. They are coached to lower their eyes and find a teammate on a 45-degree lead or, increasingly, to carry the ball into the fifty and snap it themselves. Goal-kicking midfielders have replaced the traditional forward pocket, meaning the "pie" of total team goals is sliced into much smaller pieces. Because the physical demands of the game have skyrocketed—with players running upwards of 13 kilometers per match—the deep forwards are often rotated to the bench or pushed into the wings to provide an outlet, reducing their "time on ground" in the scoring zone significantly.
Comparing Eras: Why the 1990s Were a Statistical Anomaly
The Golden Age of the Full-Forward
In the 1990s, the 100-goal mark was almost an annual expectation. In 1993 alone, Tony Lockett, Gary Ablett Sr., and Jason Dunstall all cleared the ton. It was a statistical explosion that we took for granted at the time. The game was played in distinct phases, and the "long kick to a contest" was the primary method of entry. The issue remains that we are comparing two different sports played with the same ball. Back then, a full-forward was a stay-at-home specialist who didn't need to chase a rebounding defender 80 meters up the ground. They saved every ounce of energy for the lead and the leap. Today, a forward who doesn't apply elite defensive pressure is considered a liability, regardless of how many goals they might kick. This "two-way running" requirement drains the legs and ruins the accuracy needed to convert 5 or 6 shots every single week for 22 rounds.
Rule Changes and Their Unintended Consequences
The AFL has introduced several rules to try and "open up" the game—think of the 6-6-6 starting positions or the "stand" rule—but none have managed to revive the 100-goal hero. As a result: the game is higher scoring on aggregate in some seasons, but the distribution remains stubbornly democratic. While the 6-6-6 rule was intended to prevent teams from flooding the backline at center bounces, smart coaches simply wait ten seconds for their wingmen to drop back into the holes. We are far from the days where a player could kick 125 goals in a season because the modern tactical response to a dominant forward is to simply stop the ball from entering the forward arc entirely. If the ball doesn't get in, the goals don't get kicked; it is a simple, brutal equation that has defined the last sixteen years of the league.
The Physical Toll of the Modern Game
Aerobic Capacity vs. Explosive Power
To kick 100 goals, you need to be an outlier. You need to be someone like 1990s Peter Sumich or 2008 Franklin, someone who combines height with an almost unfair level of speed. However, the aerobic requirements of the contemporary game have forced players to lean down. The "behemoth" full-forward who weighs 110kg and dominates through sheer bulk is gone. Today’s forwards are leaner, designed for repeat sprints rather than wrestling in the square. This shift in body composition means they are often outmuscled in the very situations where their predecessors thrived. But is this an improvement? Experts disagree on whether the increased speed of the game compensates for the loss of the "big man" spectacle that once defined the sport’s peak popularity.
The Impact of Modern Interchange Rotations
Rotation caps have also played a subtle role. When a star forward is on fire, they are often dragged for a "breather" because the sports science data suggests they are hitting a red zone for injury risk. In the 90s, you didn't bench a man who had kicked six by half-time. You let him stay out there and feast. Now, the interchange system prioritizes team-wide high-intensity running over individual momentum. This clinical approach to player management might extend a career by three seasons, but it certainly caps the ceiling of what a player can achieve in a single afternoon. Hence, the "eight-goal haul" has become the new "twelve-goal haul," and the 100-goal season remains a ghost of a different era.
The Fog of Memory: Common Pitfalls and Myths
Memory is a treacherous thing when we discuss who was the last to kick 100 goals because our brains crave a narrative of decline that may not exist. The problem is that many fans conflate the 2008 Lance Franklin century with the death of the full-forward position entirely. It was not. We often hear that modern zone defenses made the feat impossible, yet this ignores the tactical evolution that actually creates space for elite athletes. Because we fixate on Buddy, we ignore the fact that the game changed around him, not just against him. Did the goal-kicking landscape shift? Obviously. But the issue remains that we treat the hundred-goal mark as a relic of the eighties, forgetting that Brendan Fevola fell a solitary, agonizing kick short in that very same 2008 season.
The Tally Versus the Milestone
One recurring misconception involves the inclusion of finals. Let’s be clear: the AFL official record counts every goal kicked from Round 1 through the Grand Final. Some purists argue that the last to kick 100 goals should only be judged on the 22-game (now 23-game) home-and-away season. Except that this revisionist history discounts the sheer endurance required to perform in September. If you exclude finals, the list of centurions shrinks, but the 113 goals kicked by Franklin remain the gold standard of the modern era regardless of how you slice the data. Using different metrics creates a linguistic mess that serves no one.
The Era of the Shared Load
People often assume the 100-goal kicker vanished because players became less accurate. That is nonsense. In short, the data shows that team scoring totals stayed relatively stable while the distribution shifted. In 1990, a team might have one player kick 120 goals; in 2026, we see four players kicking 35 each. Which explains why the individual milestone has become a unicorn (a very tall, very fast unicorn). We are looking for a singular hero in an era defined by systemic efficiency and collective pressure.
The Expert Lens: Why The Centurion Might Return
If you think the days of the massive haul are over, you are likely looking at the game through a rearview mirror. The issue remains one of coaching philosophy rather than player capability. Current trends in high-transition football suggest that a dominant, mobile key forward could exploit the "6-6-6" starting positions more effectively than the stationary behemoths of the past. To find the next player who was the last to kick 100 goals, we must look for a freak of nature who combines Olympic sprinting speed with elite aerobic capacity. It requires a player who can outrun a mid-sized defender for four quarters straight.
The Statistical Anomalies of 2008
We must acknowledge the sheer absurdity of the 2008 season. Franklin managed 113.88 from 25 games, while Fevola hit 99. As a result: that year represents a mathematical outlier that defies the downward trend seen since the mid-nineties. It wasn't just talent; it was a perfect storm of fast turf, high-possession styles, and a lack of sophisticated "interconnected" defensive webs. Is it possible to replicate those conditions today? (I suspect the answer lies in the hands of the AFL Rules Committee rather than the players). If the league continues to prioritize high-scoring entertainment, the structural barriers to a century will eventually crumble.
Frequently Asked Questions
How many players have actually reached the 100-goal mark in VFL/AFL history?
The history of the game is paved with legendary names, but only 28 individual players have ever reached the triple-figure milestone in a single season. This group has achieved the feat a total of 57 times, with icons like Jason Dunstall and Tony Lockett doing the heavy lifting across the eighties and nineties. The most prolific year was 1993, when three separate players—Lockett, Dunstall, and Gary Ablett Sr.—all smashed the barrier. Since the turn of the millennium, however, the frequency has plummeted, leaving Lance Franklin as the lonely sentinel of the 21st century. The data reveals a stark 82 percent drop-off in 100-goal seasons when comparing the 1990s to the 2010s.
Who came the closest to 100 goals since Buddy Franklin in 2008?
The closest anyone has come to unseating the man who was the last to kick 100 goals is arguably Jack Riewoldt or Jeremy Cameron, though neither truly threatened the century mark. Riewoldt managed 78 goals in 2010, while Cameron finished with 76 in 2019 including a prolific finals campaign. The gap between the leading goalkicker and the hundred-mark has widened to a canyon, often exceeding 25 goals. In many recent years, the Coleman Medal has been won with fewer than 70 goals, highlighting a shift in how teams generate scoring opportunities. It would take a massive 30 percent increase in individual output for any current superstar to even sniff the milestone.
Does the modern 23-round season make kicking 100 goals easier?
One would think an extra game provides a massive advantage, yet the reality of player management and rotation nullifies the benefit. Modern forwards are frequently rested or "managed" throughout the season, meaning they rarely play every available minute of every game. Furthermore, the increased defensive pressure and the rise of the "spare man" in defense mean that a leading forward is rarely in a true one-on-one contest. While the 23-round season offers more time, the physical toll of the modern game is significantly higher than it was in the seventies. Unless a player can maintain a strike rate of 4.35 goals per game, the extra round remains a statistical footnote rather than a genuine helping hand.
A Final Verdict on the Century
The obsession with who was the last to kick 100 goals is not just about a number; it is a yearning for the colossal individual dominance that once defined Australian Rules. We are currently trapped in an era of "good enough" forward lines where diversity of scoring is prized over the singular brilliance of a spearhead. Yet, I firmly believe the pendulum will swing back. The current tactical landscape is so hyper-focused on stopping team systems that it has become vulnerable to a singular, unstoppable force. When the next centurion arrives—and they will—it will not be because the game got easier, but because one athlete decided to break the system entirely. We should stop mourning the death of the hundred-goal season and start preparing for its inevitable, loud, and spectacular resurrection.