Friday, September 30, 2016

Guest post... from a lifelong Doggies fan

My husband wrote an email to his workmates and since it's a new voice I thought I'd share it as a guest post:

G’day all. Greeting from Bulldogs central at my place.
 
Huge weekend just passed with driving up to Sydney to watch the Prelim. After packing the Ute/Van, didn’t end up taking it up in the end as I’d had a crap night’s sleep the Thursday night and didn’t feel the best. M got up early and by 6.30am she had a Motel booked about 30 minutes from the ground. . Got as far as Goulburn and had had enough. Camped there for the night and then heading on to Sydney in the morning.  
 
Got to the ground early and thought there was a mistake with our seats. The guys pointing us in the direction of the front row. So there we were with front row seats at the 50 metre arc. Sat next to a nice old man who’d driven all the way with his daughter. She was too nervous to actually buy a ticket and elected to sit outside the ground. An unbelievable atmosphere ensued. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Doggies crowd so animated/loud with the crowd being 50% Dog fans. We were out of our seats most of the time. I lost my voice but still managed to give Heath Shaw a nice old spray at one point and in earshot which I never usually do (he deserved it too).
 
A work colleague is sending me regular texts explaining what’s happening and letting me know how long to go. I put my phone down as I want to enjoy the moment. Amazing scenes when the siren sounded. I was speechless by this point. M was crying, N stunned. We were just so blown away that we had got there. The team given nothing, had beaten the team given everything. People were ecstatic afterwards. Strangers hugging each other. High fives including the players as they traversed the boundary. Spontaneous singing of the club song all around the ground and outside of it, local bars overflowing with Dogs fans. No one wanted to leave.
 
The drive home Sunday was an event in itself. There were cars with scarves protruding out of every window. People waving out of cars when they recognised you were one of them. Red, white and blue everywhere. You’d pull in somewhere to fuel/food up and bump into more of “The pack” so more talk, more smiles from people that you don’t know, but in a sense you do.  More “Go Doggies”.   
 
Watched the Brownlow Monday with great interest to see how the boys would do. I don’t follow the Red Carpet stuff too much, but it was great to see Annie Nolan (Liam Picken’s wife) in the ladies tuxedo. Was a great message she sent in doing that. 
 
Went into the ballot with not much hope of getting a ticket, particularly as we requested 4. You pay $5 each entry fee to go in but thought $20 was a reasonable investment to try. As a backup, a  mate had lined up another mate who has options to get tickets (I’m not sure how or why). I thought about it for a second and thought no, if I’m going to watch it I want to share it with people that mean something. So as generous as mate of a mate's offer was, I would have likely declined and opted to be with my nearest and dearest.
 
So, Monday comes around and my credit card get charged $666 and I’m thinking shxx, I might have tickets!  M says “Are you doing anything Saturday?” The email has come through, we have tickets! They are nose bleed section (top tier), Punt Road end but we’re going to the GF Saturday.
 
So this week has not necessarily gone as I thought. I was going to be painting but that can wait.  Stuff it.  Am going to the GF parade. I’ve not been before, so this is part of the experience. Will leave early Saturday by Public Transport to get to the ground and enjoy the whole experience.
 
The house has been decorated so the neighbours know where we stand. In Geelong, they’re used to seeing Cats stuff everywhere. Seeing Dogs stuff for them must be like some kind of alternate reality. For once though I think another team has edged out the Geelong Football Club from the local Geelong Advertiser. Mind you they still dedicated 4 whole pages to GFC Mad Monday/Whacky Wednesday.  
 
Am I excited, tick, nervous tick, all of the above. If we win it I’m not sure what space I’ll be in. Next to getting married and having kids this could be a major event.  Forgive me if on Monday I’m tired, emotional, voiceless, on a bender,  missing in action or locked up. I’ve been crook this week with that cold/sore throat everyone’s had, but I’m on a high.
 
This means a lot for someone who’s followed a team their whole life and never seen them in a GF let alone win a cup. Regardless I’ll be proud of my team.
 
Hope you’re all well and spare a thought for us sitting in the stands Saturday.

Go, Dog. Go!

Last Thursday night I saw a picture of the book Go, Dog. Go! on Twitter (thanks @planetredmania) and decided my copy of the book would feature in photographs of our journey to Sydney and back for the AFL Preliminary final between GWS and Western Bulldogs.

"Go, Dog. Go!" by P.D. Eastman is described on Wikipedia as follows:

The book describes the actions and interactions of a group of highly mobile dogs, who operate cars and other conveyances in pursuit of work, play, and a final mysterious goal: a dog party.

I only just read that as I sat to write this blog post but it seems quite apt for the title and theme I am writing about.

Last Friday we joined other dogs on the road; in cars and other conveyances in the pursuit of hard working dogs we love and admire, who play an extremely exciting style of football for a final, mysterious, and for 62 years, elusive goal - a Premiership - which will of course result in the biggest dog party in modern history!

We'd never travelled interstate for a football game. Back in 1998 we were fortunate enough to be in London at the exact time the Western Bulldogs were playing StKilda in an exhibition game at The Oval so we went along and had an amazing time; marvelling at seeing our team on foreign soil and enjoying the opportunity to meet legendary players such as Chris Grant and Tony Liberatore. The internet reminds me that the Dogs won that match, 15.5.95 to 10.12.72 but it exists in my memory as a unique football experience, not a famous victory.

So, after beating Hawthorn in the Semi Final we made the decision that Spotless Stadium in Western Sydney would be the destination for our first interstate game. Deciding to go to a final is a bigger decision than deciding to go to a regular season game. The cost for a start is a huge issue, but in this instance, it also involves nutting through travel logistics, such as how do we get there, when do we get there, where do we stay, who goes (& who doesn't) and can we even manage it. Getting the tickets was probably the most stressful element of the whole equation. I was repeatedly booted out of the Ticketmaster system as I attempted to get tickets. Each time I'd have to re-enter our membership numbers. It was laborious and frustrating. I didn't want to have to pay a premium so it felt important to get the budget seats before they were gone. At one stage I had tickets in my shopping cart near the Bulldogs cheer squad but I ended up with tickets down the other end near the GWS cheer squad. This didn't seem ideal but by this stage I just wanted tickets so I took them and ticked that box off.

We have a camper and decided to save accommodation money by towing that and staying in a caravan park. A friend on twitter, who also happens to be a GWS fan, was invaluable in giving advice about where to stay and linking me up to helpful information; at one stage offering his couch for us. Having travelled extensively to see his team he just 'got it' and while we would be rivals at the game  he understood the desire for us to be there and as such extended his hand of friendship.

But when Friday morning rolled around we had had an horrendous night's sleep and I fretted about driving 800+ kilometres towing a van without being fully rested. I made the last minute decision to log on to wotif and find a motel 'somewhere' in western Sydney. On the Friday we aimed to drive as far as we could and then complete the travel on the Saturday morning.

Thursday evening...
Scarves, jumpers, flag, backpacks, beanies & caps - all packed.




Membership cards - packed, just in case we need them.


Try to sleep...but there's such anticipation and excitement...we don't. Why are we so nervous and anxious? This is a football game and we have no control over it...but still we fret.

Friday morning...
Plans altered and we're off. It's 9am...about two hours later than we planned but we're a lighter load now and feel a weight has lifted off our shoulders with no van following us.


We're hungry and need caffeine but try to get an hour under our belt before stopping, which ends up being on the ring road at Maccas.


Any chance of healthy eating over the next couple of days feels remote.

The first 'Sydney' sign we see says

SYDNEY 832


It's daunting to think of how far we have yet to travel. One of the early highway exits we pass is BEVERIDGE. I snap a photo - it's the name of our coach and feels like a good omen to see it.


At 12.38 we get our first glimpse of fellow travellers and I tweet: 

Just got a honk from a fellow road tripper with their scarf hanging out the window!

Makes me a little emotional to think of all these doggies fans heading nth; desperate to see our team victorious & proud as punch to be here


We've travelled about 380 km when we decide to stop for lunch in Wodonga. As it turns out the spot we choose is the same spot the Western Bulldogs official buses will stop the next morning for breakfast. There's a couple of food trucks, a small brewery and a cafe called 'Bean Station' in the old railway siding. We choose that and have a relatively nutritious lunch. 


Our 15 year old son who can normally eat like a machine is not that hungry and only picks at his food and when we get back to the car vomits ferociously in a garden bed. It turns out having his head down in the back seat for that last leg had not agreed with him. We switch it up. I drive, he's my passenger and my husband has a stint in the back seat. The magnitude of our road trip dawns on us.

We cross into New South Wales.



The NSW side of the Hume Hwy is much more picturesque. Previous road trips have been in summer so it's lovely to see the countryside so lush and green. Our next major stop is the dog on the tuckerbox at Gundagai. My husband had the idea to put a beanie and scarf on the dog but as we approached we were reminded that there's a pool of water around the statue. I'd seen a picture on Twitter of someone else doing the same and we figure he must have waded out. Here's that pic. Thanks Peter Rolfe @rolfep


We do the next best thing we can and hold Go, Dog. Go! in front of him.


While we walk back to the car wondering how we can get the picture we really want we notice another Bulldogs car pull up with the same idea. He's joined two scarves together and is about to swing them around the dog's neck when a lady's voice comes over a P.A. asking visitors to not interact with or place items on the monument. Foiled! We feel a sense of camaraderie with our fellow Bulldog. It's here that we really notice a lot of fellow fans. Car after car is pulling up and even seeming neutrals are saying 'Go doggies!' It's such a lovely feeling.


 
We're back on the road. Driving is exhausting and we start to wonder how far we'll get tonight. The sun is setting behind us and creating a beautiful colour in the sky. We decide to aim for Goulburn.



We're not alone here either. There must be a hot rod event on nearby based on the car park but there's also plenty of doggies scarves and stickers. We're exhausted from the drive and opt for having a pizza delivered as we settle in to watch Sydney destroy Geelong in the 1st prelim.



Saturday morning...
Breakfast is included in the motel deal so we head down to find the breakfast room full of fellow doggies. It's game day and we're all pumped; nervously excited and full of anticipation.
A fuel stop and a caffeine fix and we're off.


We're seeing more and more dogs' fans. It's exciting and the sense of a shared journey is definitely with us. We wave like mad with nervous smiles as we motor on toward our destination... Go, Dog. Go!

I check my phone often and follow the #bemorebulldog hashtag on twitter. Tears slide down my face as I read about the gesture from Luke Beveridge to give the bus travelling Bulldogs $10 and a letter of thanks as they boarded at 3am this morning. It's such a simple thing but symbolises so much. It feels like the club values the supporters more than ever. There is a real sense of gratitude for the fans and what they go through.

We decide to drive through Mittagong, which was where we originally planned to stop, and take in the beautiful tulip display before getting back on the freeway for the final stretch.


We find our way to our motel. We know so little about Sydney. We don't know if we've made a good choice with our accommodation or a massive error but we're totally reassured when we check in and the owner? (manager?) shouts us a drink. It feels like a good omen and we instantly are satisfied with our choice.


Its around 1 o'clock and we're a bit antsy. The game isn't until 5.15 but we have no idea where we need to go or what the parking will be like at the train station. I'm keen to move so that we're not stressed. We sort out all of our gear; footy jumpers, scarves and paraphernalia.  We recently found my late father in law's beanie and my son is wearing it today. It feels like a lucky charm.

We drive to Yagoona train station, there's plenty of parking so one less thing to worry about. We work out which direction to head in and where to go. I snap this photo as much to remind us where to head back to later.


It's only a few stops until we're at Lidcombe - the hub station where a lot of lines meet. Trains are cool up here - double deckers that can pack heaps of people in, but this one is relatively empty. Our footy ticket gives us free train travel. Kudos to the AFL, or Giants or Sydney transport or whoever organised that.


We still have plenty of time so wander the streets to find something for lunch. We get a few 'Go Doggies' called out to us and just one 'Up the Giants'. We're deep in enemy territory but it definitely doesn't feel like it.

We join a large crowd of people making their way to platform 1 where a train will take us the one stop to Olympic Park. There are doggies fans everywhere. Our pack is gathering. We're converging on enemy turf; focused and hopeful.

It's not until we get to Olympic Park that I realise Spotless Stadium is right next door to ANZ Stadium. I never went to the Sydney Olympics so I had no sense of the precinct we find ourselves in. The aquatic centre is nearby and also the hockey centre. I imagine there may be other venues too. We're told that Spotless Stadium was the baseball stadium during the Olympics. It's a little walk to Spotless and there are people everywhere; red, white and blue alongside orange and grey. Such enthusiasm and anticipation emanates from us all. We don't feel in the majority or minority - there's a real mix. Occasionally a group will break out in our theme song and you can't help but smile.


As we enter the ground I'm handed a Daily Telegraph wrap around and the lady tells me if I hold it up at quarter time I might win Grand Final tickets. The front page says 'This is our time' (or It's our time) and I open it to find a team photo of the Giants. I hand it back to her and she tries to convince me that I should still try to win. I'm bristling at the cheek of the headline... their time? their time? really? after 5 years they think it's their time?
We're searching for our seats. Our row number is AA which I had expected to be behind row Z, but the rows finish at N so I figure we must be up on the next level but the attendant tells us to turn around. As we walk down our section it finally dawns on us that AA is the very front row. We are in shock. We're right on the 50 metre line IN THE VERY FRONT ROW! I'm suddenly the best wife and mother in the universe for scoring these amazing tickets...


I swear our jaws are on the ground for a good 10 minutes. As more people arrive they too are in shock. Spotless Stadium has done a great job of surprising those of us with row AA tickets! We're all thrilled. I notice the ground only has one big screen too and it is directly in front of us. We're definitely feeling like winners!
The first player I spot is Liam Picken. He's walked out on to the field; casing the joint, getting a feel for the ground.

Soon after the whole team emerges to an enormous roar for their pre-game warm up. It's exhilarating to feel the support echoing in our ears. This is an away game for us but it doesn't feel like that. When the Giants come out the Bulldog faithful greet them with a resounding BOO. As a rule I'm not a fan of booing but this feels like a chance to show that our shared experience connects us; a way of demonstrating the strength of our numbers and that we wont roll over and be the quiet visitor.... that it's not YOUR time, it's OUR time!
By this time I've put my phone away...so there will be no pictures until much later. Hopefully my words can paint the picture and tell the story.
It's hard to describe the game though, and I will never do it justice. A lot has been written this week about the game and I'll add those links in. Bulldog Tragician (link) has a wonderful way with words, and the Western Bulldogs released a video of the fans (link) that resonated in a huge way with me. I recognised all the different emotions on the faces and in the body language of those people.
Suffice to say I was incredibly nervous. My stomach was in knots, my palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry. Toward the end of the game my shoulder was aching from tension and my heart was racing (....and to think we go to the football for enjoyment!)
I'd formed a connection with the lady seated next to me and it felt like we'd lived through something  momentous together. I'm shocked to not know her name after having experienced something so intense alongside her. We shared stories of our bulldog connection and history during quarter and half time breaks and together we willed the dogs to win. I haven't watched a replay yet and my memory of the game is patched with individual incidents and feelings. In the first quarter it felt like we dominated everywhere but on the scoreboard. Missed scoring opportunities threatened to bite. The injury to Roughead and the realisation that Cordy and Boyd would have to ruck the game out, the spectacular mark to Easton Wood, the smart mouth and irritation of Heath Shaw, the injury to Callan Ward as we wondered why they didn't bring a stretcher out, the tenacity of Clay Smith to find the goals again and again. At one stage, and a reasonable time into the game we only had two goal scorers, Clay and Tory Dickson. The turnovers. The excitement of hitting the front, of scoring a goal and standing on tiptoes to wave the flag high. The desperate pleading look to the heavens as we sunk to a 14 point deficit in the final quarter. My husband rubbed his sons head, and in doing so, his dad's beanie, for luck...we all had our talisman and we gripped them tight with hope. And still we didn't give up, our boys didn't give up. They were fighting tooth and nail as we came back, we hit the lead again and we bounded from our seats. Someone behind us was streaming the game on their phone and knew how much time was left, two and half minutes, one and half minutes... It felt like an eternity. We felt sick. Then Jake passes to Tory. Jake doesn't have a shot at goal. He doesn't do what he would have done a month ago. He passes to Tory. The guy behind me says 30 seconds and in that instance I know we've won. Tory just has to use his full time as he goes back for his shot. I'm literally bouncing on the spot grabbing my husband's arm, tears streaming as I gasp 'We've done it, we've done it' and then the siren sounds and I'm still bouncing, I'm waving my flag as hard as I can and I'm crying and I'm delirious. My mouth is so dry I can barely speak. The players are celebrating on the field and I reach for my phone to snap a photo of the three of us in that moment with the players behind us. The guy behind us offers to take it for us. I'll never forget that moment, that joy, and that excitement of knowing our team was finally, finally in a grand final.
We're singing the song with gusto. "Sons of the west, red, white and blue..." I want them to play it over and over again. The players run out to the boundary line and our position in row AA means we're hanging over the fence with arms outstretched to high five them.



The excitement is intoxicating. Bob heads toward us and I capture a pic of him with his double fist pump. A side view of that shot from a professional photographer will feature online somewhere, and my shot is out of focus but he represents the feelings in all of us.

 (photo from Twitter, attributed to Herald Sun but I can't find source)

As the players prepare to leave the ground we see shots of Bob on the scoreboard in tears and we tear up again ourselves. He is the symbolic heart of our club and we know his tears are just like ours; tears of joy at seeing our beloved Bulldogs win through to a Grand Final.


The second siren sounds and we make our way onto the field. We don't have a ball, we just soak up the atmosphere. We're standing about where Tory took that final mark. We say to each other again and again "We're in the Grand Final". It's sinking in. Eventually we're told to leave. I find the lady I was sitting next to and thank her for sharing the game with me. We're both dumbstruck and don't know what else to say. As we make our way out of the ground there is so much joy on bulldogs' faces. There's old and young and everything in between. The majority of us have never known this feeling and we're enveloping ourselves in it, embracing the joy it's brought to us. As we walk away from the stadium someone will break into our song and people join in, "Bulldogs through and through.." Whadda we say? "Bulldogs bite and bulldogs roar, we give our very best..." It's festive and fun. I remember the taunts from the Adelaide fans when we lost in 97 and I'm conscious of not being in the face of Giants' fans. I know they're disappointed but even aside from my desire for the Bulldogs to be victorious it feels like a Giants win would have been too easy for them, too soon and perhaps not fully valued. Sure they'd be thrilled, but sometimes having experienced gut wrenching losses makes the winning that much sweeter. I didn't need to go through all those Bulldog prelim losses to fully appreciate this win, but having done so makes me realise what a precious and rare gift we truly have.
We find our way back to our motel, stopping for a kebab en route. We are in western Sydney, it seems only right. We wonder if we'll ever sleep. But we do.


Sunday morning...
We are slower to leave than we planned. We know that driving home is ahead of us and we'll drive more kilometres today than we ever have in a single day....914 kilometres... We're on a natural high though and nothing will wipe the smile off our faces. The traffic is light but somehow we're stopped at every.single.traffic.light on the way to the M5 but after that it's smooth sailing. We see more scarves out windows than we saw yesterday or Friday and the waving is frenetic and joyous, not nervous and hopeful. The camaraderie is palpable. 


We initially aimed for Goulburn but decide to keep on keeping on and end up back at the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai for lunch. The 'Would you like beans with that?' road signs have tempted us and we stop for a healthy fast food lunch at Oliver's. The place is full of beaming Bulldogs fans and as we depart more pull up. The convoy home is well and truly on.



I do the next stint of driving from Gundagai to Glenrowan. We're travelling well and reflect on how different the trip would have been had we lost. Around Albury we manage to pick up ABC 774AM radio and we're able to listen to the VFL Grand Final between Footscray and Casey Scorpians. It's amazing to hear the Footscray boys win in such a convincing manner and certainly makes this leg of the journey pass by.

We see Beveridge again and salute our amazing Coach. What a legend he is to bring this team to such success.

We're still waving to fellow travellers and see scarves all the way up to the ring road.
It's almost 8pm when we pull into the driveway. We're zonked but it's been the best road trip ever.


Thursday, September 22, 2016

The Bulldog Breed


I didn’t watch the game last Friday. I was double booked. Our son recorded it and while we were out we checked our phones throughout the game. Our hearts were racing as if we were at the game itself. As we checked for the final time our hands were shaking and we could hardly believe it was true – we’d won, we’d beaten the juggernaut that is Hawthorn. As the theatre we were seated in cleared out we were the last two sitting there, still staring at our phones, in shock and disbelief as jubilation spread through our very being. My husband had worn his Bulldogs scarf. As we eventually made our way out we enjoyed the cheers, and ‘Go Bulldogs’ from others; mostly Cats fans since we were in Geelong heartland. They were almost as excited as us to see the Hawks defeated.
When we got home we watched the replay – it was 3am before we got to bed.  On Sunday channel 7 replayed the game and then again on Monday. It’s now Wednesday and I have the game on again as I write this. I’m trying to photograph moments as I write about them, straight off my tv screen! High tech blogging this.
Bulldogs fans are daring to dream, but in such a cautious way. Many of us have been here before, and had our hearts broken. We loathe Adelaide with every ounce of our being. The loss in the 97 prelim is like an open, gaping wound that we can’t talk about without choking up. 98 was disappointing too, but doesn’t fester in the memory bank like 97.  Close again in 08, 09 and 10. Would we ever see a Premiership, or even a Grand Final appearance? We still wonder. We wonder with hope in 2016 but we don’t get ahead of ourselves. No-one is talking about next week, no one. We’ve become superstitious – thinking beyond Saturday will jinx everything. So we do everything we can to get a ticket to the game in Sydney on Saturday – it involves travel, it involves battling the archaic Ticketmaster ticketing system, it involves booking the car in for a service, finding a dogsitter and/or a house sitter – making sure the kids who aren’t coming with us are looked after. Finding accommodation – do we take the camper? Organising a day off work for my husband so we can leave Friday. There are mini hurdles every step of the way but we wouldn't give up the opportunity for the world!
As I watched the replay for the 3rd time on Monday I started to notice the fans in the crowd and I saw myself. It has prompted me to write this. All footy fans love their footy but I really feel like we’re a special breed; we share the joys and the disappointments and long for that elusive premiership..

Last year before the elimination final against our nemesis Adelaide, a huge crowd of fans marched to the 'G, and so it would happen again. I watch those fans and feel the joy in their hearts, the spring in their step as they make their way to the home of football. They believe, we believe and we hope. We feel the connection of a common love and a common need to see our team succeed.





Easton Wood lets out a deep sigh as anthem starts.... we all do.


Now he's revving up the team, we're fist pumping and gritting our teeth with him, willing them to "stick it up 'em" to use the famous Teddy Whitten parlance.



Hearts are racing as Tory gets a free then misses goal – it’s still early, but Tory?? He's our dead eye dick.

1st goal – captain’s goal. Relief. 

That lady with red arms – that’s me – I’m euphoric. The captain has kicked our first goal. Thank goodness.

These boys clapping a Jake Stringer smother – clapping hard, excited, pumped. I'm them too.



The goal review after Hodge supposedly touched the ball sends the Bulldogs crowd into meltdown. It's confusing and seems to go against the whole goal review system of footage needing to be conclusive. Hodge gets booed for the remainder of the game, seemingly for that incident.



Finally the ump pulls up the Hawks for shepherding the player on the mark but the fans are confused.  They don't know why the ump is bringing it back but on tv we see that it's because of the shepherd. Sometimes you have no idea what is going on – I’m these people? What just happened? The crowd is confused. Hands in the air guy? I'm him too.


Can you hear the crowd? Can you hear the calls of "Ball"? That’s me, though usually I’m yelling "Caught" – don’t ask me why… It’s kind of a misheard lyric from my childhood that I can’t shake. 

The oohs and aahhhs. The run, run, run, run, kick it. Woohooo… YES!  Hard, hard clapping. I’m making all those noises. How good is Picken?



The moment of the game – the absolute moment of the game! How good was it? Hodge bouncing off Bont as Bont marks it. That kid is awesome - he's young enough to be my son so I can call him a kid but truly he's a man - he stands tall in this game and in this team.



Half way through the 2nd quarter they were double our score, 46 to 23… If I'd been watching live my stomach would be churning, worried, a little afraid. Random stats come up on the screen: Spoils 16 to 10 – It’s the little things – Hunter this time. So awesome.

Point, point…we keep kicking points and then they go coast to coast for a goal,  but miss.  Phew... and then Dunkley kicks a goal – there's a shot of Lin Jong in crowd and we're reminded that some players who should be out there are missing.


Smith goal and again, Smith goal – woohoo.

Crowd shot of famous fans – we’re all in this together. We’re all Tim Cahill, we're all the bloke who grew up in Barkly St, the Nana who sits with her knitted red, white and blue blanket, the kid decked out in face paint.


1:20 on the clock – I can hear the “Bulldogs” clap clap clap “Bulldogs” clap clap clap chant in the background – I’d be joining in.


Another chance for Tory – he has the yips and then there’s a blue. I’d be on my feet here. My hands would be clutched as I hoped no-one got hurt.


Half time - only one point to difference... (Flashback to me in the theatre checking my phone - the last time I'd checked we'd been 23 down, and now my son has sent a message to say 1 point down. I look at my husband, he looks at me, we say nothing but in both of us is silent hope, a silent 'maybe')
The third quarter starts... there's a second goal review and from what I can see, a second inconclusive decision overturning a goal but it squares things up.

Stringer goals to put us in front. I'd be absolutely bouncing out of my seat by now. Jordan Roughead has a couple of chances in front of goal. That guy with the beard - that's me, that girl clutching her drink - she's me too. I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm hopeful.  He goals! The crowd are on their feet - I'm on my feet.

Now Toby Mclean goals and there is serious fist pumping. Yes, Yes, Yes. We have a 14 point lead. We're daring to dream.  As Stringer throws the ball on his boot you see it sail through the goals and you see the bulldogs' crowd rise as one. I think we're in a trance. It feels so unbelievable. There is disbelief on the faces in the crowd. We so want this to happen and it is.


The chant 'Let's go Bulldogs' starts to ring around the ground. We're clapping hard, we're yelling the chant, we're so excited we might burst. Bont goals. That girl with her hands going up to her mouth - that's me. Oh.My.God, we're winning, we're dominating, we're taking down the reigning premiers.


Jump, Jump, Jump. We're 26 points up at 3/4 time. We're on our feet. We're optimistically cautious. 97 is still in our memory bank - we were up by a similar margin at 3/4 time and this is Hawthorn...


The final quarter - can we do it?
Bont intercepts in front of Hodge, passes to Dickson and goals. There is determined clapping in the stands - if I clap harder we run faster, we goal more, we will just do better. My clapping will get us over the line - I clap with all my might.

The commentator Cameron Ling suggests that the fans believe now. We're bulldogs fans - we love our boys but we never feel a game is won this early in the final quarter. We believe but mostly we hope...


The crowd is seriously invested in every moment of the game - every mark is greeted with an enormous cheer.

Picken goals and high fives some fans on the fence - he's euphoric and so are we - we're reaching our hands out, we are with him with every stride he takes, every tackle, every moment of desperate determination. We're bouncing in our seats.


Then Picken goals again. His goals are scrambling, desperate goals and this one is the sealer. You see it in the celebrations with his team mates - they know they've got this and I think we all let out a long held breath.



In the crowd a Hawthorn fan holds up 3 fingers to jeering, excited Bulldogs faithful. He's letting them know his team has won 3 in a row. We know, oh how we know, but we also know that there wont be a fourth - we will deny the Fourthorn, the 4peat... 


I see a girl in the crowd with her hands over her face and she makes me tear up - I'm her. I'm so hopeful and optimistic and in shock; feeling joy and excitement and a tiny smidge of confidence. We long for success, for a chance for our team to see victory, to break the decades long drought.


Hawthorn keeps coming. Bruce and Denis seem to think they're still a chance, and in days gone by they may have been but we're composed. We wind the clock down. Caleb is awarded a free and there's a shot of our President and Vice President in the players race; hands in the air - jubilant. They love their doggies as much we we do, we've all got our hands in the air. 


The players on the interchange bench are arm in arm. We all feel this jubilation.


And as the final siren sounds and Caleb slots a final goal there is much fist pumping.




There are shots of Bevo and the coaches box, our injured captain Bob; the heart of our club, club legends like Bubba Smith, Chris Grant, Gia - all still very much a part of this club. Joy beams off faces; players, fans, officials. It is just pure joy. 




The players share their excitement. They run around the fence line high-fiving the fans - joy is being passed from player to fan to player. 


They go down the race - the fans are reaching desperately to touch their heroes and they're reaching back - there's this connection - this is for all of us. 


The rooms are packed - so many want to share in this moment. The 100 or so people represent the 40,000 of us not in there.


Around the country, as our banner had suggested, 24 million people are smiling. Hawthorn, you were amazing for 3+ years, but now it's our turn...
"...You can't beat the boys of the bulldog breed, we're the team of the mighty west."




And just in case you're curious, it was Rockwiz that I was at during the game...and here's a little snippet from Ella Hooper... "It's a fine line between pleasure and pain, you've done it once you can do it again... Whatever you do don't try to explain, it's a fine fine line between pleasure and pain..."

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