The car park is still mud, but there’s a definite kick of spring in the air.
Blue sky, sun and glory in the offing. My wife and one daughter and I ride the escalator to the Percy Beames Bar, which is lit with winter sun. Not many people here today. Sunday afternoon is an awkward fixture for the Cats fan, and the Tigers have had a long season.We meet up with a Slattery and a Defegely and a Rule to discuss the Cats’ chances and to denigrate each other’s sartorial stylings. The Rule, if he is to be believed, is wearing a new pair of $750 shoes. So he becomes “Imelda” for the day.
A loosely aligned fan, this Rule. Since I’ve known him he’s barracked for The Saints, the Blues, The Demons, and now The Saints again. If a man was going to commit the unpardonable sin of switching teams why wouldn’t he put some thought into the likelihood of future success?
Outside, the air is so winter-thin the game looks close enough that you could reach out and comb Guthrie’s hair. (It needs doing.) The Tigers are running free as summer kids. School’s out, lessons are over, let’s have fun. The Cats seem weighed down by looming exams. And locked into a sideways system.
The Tiger fans can’t quite, ever, believe in Victory. Which makes them congenial hosts. Even their triumph is steeped in irony. “Geez, you know you’re having a rough day when Lennon’s kicking them on you.
Don’t worry, mate. We got a million ways to lose. From the front is just one of them.
You don’t hear that from Hawk fans when they’re four goals up.
Duncan plays like he’s haunted by The Ghost of Mumford Past, visions of enormous sausage scoffers looming at him from unlikely quarters. Motlop is like a kid who’s had his two favorite toys, TIME and SPACE confiscated. He’s just going to pretend he’s still got them. Hawkins is playing on three men and, strangely, this doesn’t free any other player for us. The parts of this Cat team aren’t connected. The patterns that come from mutual understanding just aren’t there.
The Tigers are running, leading, snaps at goal that usually only work for Hawks are coming off. The Tiges aren’t this skilled are they? And they certainly don’t have luck this good. This is Hawthorn luck.
And we keep kicking points. By half time sensitive Geelong fans like myself are forced into the safe haven of the Long Room. It’s quiet in here. Only us and a group of aging Cat fans from Cobram. (Send us another Buddha Hocking. Please.) It will be a long drive home for them.
There’s my old maths teacher Paul Sheahan staring down from the wall. He didn’t fail at many things, Paul. But the task of teaching me the quadratic equation stumped him. Out the window we keep kicking points.
As the last quarter begins we’re six goals down. Caddy goals in the first seconds and lets out such a roar of belief that it makes most of us do a double-take. Isn’t that a little OTT, given the scenario? Celebrating a late goal in that fashion when you’re being soundly beaten by a team that isn’t in the top eight? Or… hang on… does this guy really think we can win from here?
Is it this reaction that ignites the possibility of victory in his teammates? Check out Cads. The dude reckons we can win. Hang on; we are only 29 points down… maybe if we get the next. From there on we score every two minutes. Points or goals, we don’t care. Just keep kicking it west and the job will be done.
I’ve bagged my team for three quarters and though I’m loudly triumphant when the final siren sounds, I’m still suspicious of them. They have strayed from the righteous path. Will they do so again? Soon?
As to the Tigers - does disappointment compile or dispel? There seems a fatalism about their supporters, a communal shrug. Bad stuff happens, at this place, in this season. Whaddya going to do?
Imelda Rule slouches his $750 shoes to the bar to buy us one last round. Victory is the final, essential ingredient in a truly great beer. And Sunday evening turns out to be a perfect time for a game of footy.
Anson Cameron is a novelist, columnist and Cats fan who has been a member of the MCC since before Ray Card met Keith Greig.
Match Summary
RICHMOND 2.4 7.4 11.6 12.6 (78)GEELONG 2.2 3.7 4.13 10.22 (82)
GOALS
Richmond: Lloyd 3, Rioli 2, Vickery 2, Edwards, Hampson, Lennon, Riewoldt, Grigg
Geelong: McCarthy 2, Menegola 2, Smith, J.Selwood, Caddy, Motlop, Taylor, Hawkins
BEST
Richmond: Rance, Martin, Lloyd, Houli, Grigg, Ellis, T.Hunt
Geelong: J.Selwood, S.Selwood, Dangerfield, Guthrie, Menegola, McCarthy
INJURIES
Richmond: Hampson (cut head)
Geelong: Cowan (cut head)
Reports: Nil
Umpires: Donlon, O'Gorman, Hosking
Official crowd: 45,667 at the MCG