A Letter to Uncle Damien and Aunt Peggy
He speaks in your voice, American, and there’s a shine in his eye that’s halfway hopeful.
Don Delillo, Underworld, New York: Scribner, 1997, p.11
If only, if only, we Tigers fans could go to games, or watch games from near or afar being ‘halfway hopeful’.
I apologise if you don’t like being addressed as ‘Uncle Damien’ and ‘Aunt Peggy’, but, hell, I’ve watched enough videos on the Richmond FC website to feel like I know you. I once saw you up on Richmond Hill, Mr.Hardwick, having a coffee, and I was about to sit down and join you thinking of you as an ol’ mate, before I remembered that you wouldn’t know me from any other passerby.
On the subject of coffees, I remember seeing the players having coffee down on the corner of Stewart and Tennyson St after or before training. They would park their big black, grey and yellow Jeeps illegally and anywhere they could find a space. I thought, wow, what a sense of entitlement these people feel to Richmond. But, my god, here were professional athletes, driving all of 500 meters to go and get their lunch. Hmmm. On one of these occasions, I saw Mr.Maric, Mr.Martin and others. When I saw who it was I gave Mr.Maric a smile: he looked away – as if what – my smile could have interfered with his afternoon. Oh well, I thought. Such is the business of being a footballer – being too easily recognised.
On other days, I would be coming home with my shopping and I’d see the players again sitting out at the cafe at the tables on the footpath: Bachar, Chris, Ivan, Dustin and Axel. I had my phone with me and I tell you, there was one player I thought of having my photo taken with: Axel Foley. Why? Because in the Terry Wallace years (yes, let’s not forget them), he gave us some hope. Well, perhaps not ‘hope’. Something more concrete than that. He took the game on and ran straight towards the goal. I’ll never forget those goals he kicked from the edge of the 50meter arc after having received the tap from the ruckman whoever the hell it was.
But, more than just that. Axel has put up with too many injuries and spent too much time in rehab. He’s been patient and stoic. He can see his career slipping away before him. And then on the edge of his first final last year, you Damien, dropped him. Well, so be it. You’re the coach – you know better than me. But, I felt the signs weren’t good when a maybe-right Jack Riewoldt was gesticulating a little too much during the game. Carrying on like a pork chop just a little too much. I felt that he was making up for gestures what he couldn’t do with his body when the ball was there to be won. Axel is a symbol of continuation – as is Chris and Brett. A reminder of the lost years, false hopes, diminished careers.
On another day, I was getting my coffee at that cafe so often frequented by Richmond players and I saw Shane Tuck sitting there. It was a Sunday morning in last year’s pre-season. I had a book with me and was going to do some reading. He was by himself and had the Herald Sun with him. I had my coffee, read a couple of pages from my book, and then, couldn’t help myself and gave him my best wishes for the season. I told him I wouldn’t be able to get to a single game, but that I would watch from afar. I asked him some questions about the team and he replied. I was taken aback when he didn’t attempt to finish the conversation quickly. I said best of luck again and he said, ‘see you next time mate’ (or whatever) and that was that.
***
This is the season that hasn’t started. But, I didn’t watch the first game. I only checked the result on my phone when I was at Eindhoven train station. My god – did the team really have to lose to the Gold Coast, again? Oh well, me thought, we’ll turn it around from here on. I watched the Carlton game. Now that felt more like it. The crowd was into it. The crowd was more than ‘halfway hopeful’: the crowd was demanding a victory, expecting a win. The crowd wouldn’t just want to see a good contest; we wanted them to smash the Blues. There was still some warmth in the air. The commentators were treating it like a big game. Imagine, though, if the first time the Blues and Tiges played each other was, say, last week? Wow. Anti-climax. What we’d give now for a good contest, to go to a game halfway hopeful.
I haven’t been looking at the ladder all year. I don’t know where the Tiges are on it. But, I do know it’s closer to the bottom than the top. I think we’ve had three wins – is that right? Against Carlton, Brisbane and Greater Western Sydney. Most teams can win on any day, most teams can lose on any day. But, the good teams win more than they lose. Richmond is not a good team. That is the reality. The team – actually, not just the team – the club, has been shown up. I think you can understand the sickness that churns in the stomach of the team’s fans, members, supporters, when they find themselves agreeing with such serial Richmond-baggers as Damien Barrett and whoever else. On other occasions I’ve found myself momentarily rooting for the other team: ‘go on show us up’, ‘go on, test out the team’ – ‘push the Tiges harder, will they hold up?’ ‘nup, of course bloody not.’
After each game, I watch your press conference. I watch your press conference during the week too. I see that you’re a good bloke. You joke with the journalists. You smile. I see you’ve got your children’s drawings on your office window. I see that you’re more or less honest with the journalists. I understand that, as a coach, you’ve got to play it safe – negotiate that fine line between being honest and not saying anything controversial. But, I’m sick of one line. Well, I’m sick of many lines. But, I think I’ve heard ‘the one thing about this footy club’ a little bit too often. If to me, you talk about the RFC and you talk about the ‘one thing’ about it. The one thing I think of is this: losing. Losing. Losing. Losing and the coach telling the fans to ‘stick fat’. (Yeah, sure, I’ll stick fat, I feel like saying: I only charge $20,000 per year for doing so.)
***
Aunt Peggy, I’m sure it aint you’re fault the team is losing. I like your manner: calm, resilient, considered. I watched your speech prior to the Fremantle shemozzle that was put up on the Club’s website, and my god, what a lot of clichés. A couple stuck in my craw. One of them was about ‘taking criticism from those who want the club to succeed’ and the other one was about ‘being honest with one another’. I think it is dangerous if you pick and choose who you accept your criticism from. I think that is part of being ‘conservative’ and ‘reactionary’. But, perhaps that is the club’s politics. I’ll be honest with you. I think yourself, Brendan and Damien should spend a few hours in the outer on game day and get some direct feedback from the Club’s fans. I think a few of the players should take the train home with some of the fans: take the train to the end of the line, perhaps a bus from there. That will put a new spin on ‘drive home proud’. My impression is the Club believed a little too much its success from last year. The Club believed too much that the finals would just happen again. I think the Club believed its own bullshit.
After seeing only 22,000 fans turn up to the Fremantle shemozzle, it is clear the Club has lost the fans. (22,000! Truth be told, they were lucky to get any. Geez, I’d be happy if 22,000 people paid 15 bucks to buy the book that I spent two years working on.) The fans have been sold a pumpkin one too many times. The team has lost the hope of the fans from before, before, before the halfway point of the season. And what to look forward to in terms of footy? A summer of videos posted on the website talking-up the Club? Give the Club’s fans a bloody break. Here’s my honest suggestion in the best interests of the Club: give this season’s first 10,000 members or so, free membership for next season. Hell knows they been sold short this season.
***
Come on Tiges, turn it around.
Andy
Well spoken. I think a sentiment shared by “most” members ATM. I too was provoked by Peggy’s address last week, smacked of a little arrogance. I know my 2 3121 memberships mean Didley squatt in the big picture, but the emotional intelligence my son and I have invested in 20 years consec m’ship is considerable. We as members are asked to commit , attend, purchase merchandise, display our loyalty and when we question performance we are told that is in house! I know it’s only footy but by god it hurts when U R a Tiger supporter Cheers
Hi Craig, Thanks for your message. I think this is a conundrum we face as fans, supporters and members of a club. Do we up and leave because the club isn’t doing well? Do we make exceptions in the case of Richmond? How stupid is our loyalty? Are we too loyal for our own good? If you ask me, you and your son deserve life-membership. 20 years!
And, the news reports speak of ‘only 22,000’ attending the Freo game. Can we really believe that any Tigers fans turned up at all, after the rubbish they’ve been dishing up for the past three months? If the Tigers were a rock group, would will still be listening to them after 30 years of rubbish? ‘Oh perhaps they’ll play a good song tonight’ – nup, we would have given upon them a long time ago.
I found Nick Hornby’s Fever Pitch to be brilliantly evocative of the fate of Tigers fans. Perhaps we should invite him to a Richmond game.
best
Andy
Well said. I attended Punt Rd one quiet weekday & couldn’t believe how many very expensive luxury cars were in the player’s carpark. I saw players driving them in, & wondered how much money are these players on? We weren’t going well @ the time which left me a bit peeved!
Also strolled down Swan St 1 day saw large group of players @ a Cafe. I returned about 2hrs later to see them still there, looking bored. Again I thought, how much are we paying these guys to sit around bludging and playing shit football?
Thanks Rod for your comment.
My impression is that the players aren’t hurting enough at the moment. Sure, they all look absolutely depressed at the end of the game – but, that’s when it is too late to do anything about it. Why can’t they channel their anger and frustration during the game and do something about it then?
There is a perpetual smugness about the team that irritates me. As Garry Lyon said a few weeks ago, coming 5th is the idea of success for Richmond. Geelong can win three premierships, Hawthorn can be brilliant no matter who is in their team, and it is still not enough for them. For Richmond, ‘oh great we finished 5th!’ there is something wrong with this.
And we keep on coming back for more. I don’t understand it.
come on tiges-
Rod I’m sure they are all given the keys to a jeep as part of the sponsorship, but your point stands. “Drive Home Proud” is a deeply offensive sentiment to me after performances such as Melbourne and North, and really sits badly with the whole club performance this year. It MUST be embarrasing to the players, you’d hope so anyway.
Garry Lyon was dead right if that is what he said. A glance at the ladder season by season since 1980 shows that. There might excuses some years, injuries to key players, but the overall pattern is so damning.
Other clubs can be said to “lose the hunger” after they’ve won a flag, or 2 flags. Our club as a whole, and I have to include fans in that, seem to lose their edge after very, VERY moderate success. A circuit breaker of some kind is required so RFC can push through that barrier.
… which is NOT a veiled demand for mass sackings!
Well said buddy.
On the point about Tucky – I went to the Richmond Hall of Fame dinner last year, to which my Hawks Hubses came along out of sheer love for me (haha!).
The players were seated at a couple of tables and, as to be expected, were fairly bombarded all night with people coming up to ask for photos. It was a public event representing the Club so it’s part of the deal. For some, though, you can clearly see it’s not a part of their job they enjoy. My snap with Duty is a bit “sombre” let’s put it that way.
My hubs went over to speak to Tucky, and opened up with “G’day mate, how’s the old man?” as he loves Michael Tuck to death.
Shane’s face lit up and he happily chatted about his dad, like two blokes do at the pub. I took a snap of the two of them. He’s a genuinely nice guy.
Cheers
Hey Skippy,
thanks for your comment. My favourite photo of the Tiges from the last several years, is one Dugald took during one of Tucky’s last games. Dugald took the photo from close to the bench and Tucky was about to come on. It was a great shot of his wiry, but strongly muscled frame.
I loved his hardness at the ball. I loved that he was unpolished, but would always do more than just have a crack. He played with a sense of ‘bare life’. He was an honest player; but, perhaps more than that. He didn’t ‘play’. He worked on the field. He was like a boxer – just as boxers don’t ‘play boxing’, Tucky didn’t ‘play footy’ – he f***n did it. He lived it. (And i’m not surprised he was the club’s best boxer. It showed in his game.)
Perhaps Vlastuin comes closest to replicating Tucky. The problem is how clearly he stands out in this manner.
best
Andy
*Dusty
Freudian slip!
We should have more bloody back pocket plumbers!
Skippygirl,
I have been a volunteer property ‘steward’ in the rooms when the Tiges have played at York Park, in Launceston, for the last two pre-season games here. Of all of the players, Tucky was, by a country mile, the friendliest towards and most appreciative of myself and the others who gave up their time to help the club. When he first entered the changerooms he walked straight up to me, introduced himself, asked how I was going and thanked me for helping out. A gem of a bloke. The other bloke who was very polite and respectful was Dusty. As any decent parent will tell you: good manners cost nothing, but can make a world of difference.
Go Tiges.
Joe.