ST KILDA’S Lenny Hayes retired this year as a champion of the AFL.

But he never tasted the ultimate success.

In this book extract, the 297-game midfielder describes the heartache he felt after losing the 2009 Grand Final to Geelong by 12 points.

He openly admits crying in the changerooms after the game.

Perhaps his biggest reveal, though, is that he didn’t speak to his future wife Tara for two weeks as he dealt with his grief.

THE SIREN

IT’S hard to describe what it feels like to lose a grand final, but I was absolutely devastated in those few minutes after the siren.

I was just sitting there on the ground thinking, ‘Surely that’s not it? Did that just happen?’.

Lingy (Geelong player Cameron Ling) came up and shook my hand; he’d been where I was at that point, and he said a few nice words.

It had been a brutal game, but I think it was played in a pretty good spirit and I got the impression they thought it was too.

THE REGRET

WHEN you lose a grand final I reckon every player on the losing team thinks of something they could have done better — even if it’s just one instance where they could have forced a slightly better outcome that might have changed the end result.

Mine came after (Matt) Scarlett had rushed that behind (which drew the Saints within six points with about two minutes to go).

(Darren) Milburn went long with his kick-in to the Members Stand wing.

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I was moving to intercept or at least contest the mark, but (Jimmy) Bartel did just enough to keep me out of it and Harry Taylor floated across to take the mark.

They’d obviously practised that kick to the junction where they’d screen for Harry.

It was a set play and we were aware of it, but Bartel did a good job screening me and I couldn’t affect the play.

What if I had stepped around Bartel? What if I had been stronger at his body? What if I had managed to get a fist in? What if I had taken the mark? What if …

I don’t think I had too many of those instances on the day, but that’s the one that stayed with me. I’ve spoken to other guys and they all said similar things.

THE PRESENTATION

IT FEELS like an eternity when you’re waiting out there for them to start the presentation.

It’s tough to sit there and watch them get their medals, but I made sure I watched all of it.

Even that soon after we’d lost, I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to find motivation for next year.

As hard as it was, I made myself watch because I wanted that feeling to stick in my guts, so that I’d work my absolute hardest to make sure I never felt it again.

But I looked around at my teammates and I couldn’t have been prouder.

THE IMPACT

I FELT bad for everyone because you know how much time and effort people have put into it.

Each one of those guys would have had to overcome some sort of personal challenge that year, but we’d nearly made all the hard work worthwhile.

I desperately wanted that group, with all the collective sacrifices we’d made, to be rewarded forever with the title of 2009 premiers.

Not that you just flush all that effort down the drain, but to have won that flag would have meant so much to so many people.

It would have meant a lot to our supporters, the volunteers, the club staff—there are a lot of people who contribute to a year of footy—so I felt for all those people too.

THE CHANGEROOMS

IT WAS a relief to finally get off the field, but I didn’t feel any better once we were in the rooms.

I gave Rossy a hug, but there’s not much you can do.

That period immediately after losing a grand final is about as tough as it gets in footy.

I don’t mind admitting I shed a few tears when Mum came down to the rooms.

Rossy just said how incredibly proud he was of us for how we’d all bought in, not just on that day, but over the whole year.

He spoke about it not defining us as a group and ways that we would get better.

We would give ourselves another opportunity through sheer hard work.

We just had to stick together, but everyone would deal with it in their own way.

THE MOMENT

Of course, Scarlo’s toe poke was the defining moment of that game in the final wash-up.

Zac Dawson had come from a mile away to attempt that spoil on Ablett, which was a pretty ballsy play.

A lot of defenders would have just stayed on their man, but if he’d made even the slightest bit more contact with that ball it would probably have been a goal for us, because we had a couple of boys out the back.

But that’s footy; he couldn’t have done much more in that situation.

He brought the ball to ground and Scarlett came up with the right play at the right time.

THE AFTERMATH

I DIDN’T feel like all our effort that year was a waste, but there’s no escaping the fact that we’d failed to achieve our ultimate goal.

Guys were in a bit of a daze, because you don’t prepare for what happens if you lose.

What do we do now? There’s no handbook for that.

I was sore, I was stiff and I was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

The last thing you feel like doing is going to a function, but I was glad to still be with the boys.

It could have been the best night of our lives, but it wasn’t.

We had a lot of support there, though. Still, there’s not much anyone can say to make you feel better after something like that.

THE PERSONAL TOLL

WE had a fan day the next day, then the lads got together for a few beers on Mad Monday, but I was in for surgery on my elbow pretty quickly.

In the weeks leading up to the grand final I had started seeing a young lady who would end up

being my wife, but I didn’t call Tara for about two weeks after we lost to the Cats.

The poor girl didn’t know what to think.

It had been the best year of football of my life, but it had ended in such agonising fashion that I just needed some time to come to terms with it.

Extracted from Lenny: My Story by Lenny Hayes with Jason Phelan published by Hardie Grant Books $39.95. Available in stores nationally.