I was born too late to really hate Richmond. Some of the older, crustier Pies I’ve spoken to over the years (the ones who date back either to Captain Blood or the last era of Tiger dominance – circa 1980) consider them more of an enemy than the Navy Blues. But, as someone who only really became aware of footy in the mid 1980’s, and as a very Sydney-centric 9 year old, I thought they did bloody well to pull in the crowds they did, considering they were located somewhere out past Windsor. And catching footage of Kevin Bartlett from only a few seasons earlier, how good must he have been to kick bags of goals for the Yellow and Black during the footy season, then only weeks later, send the Channel Nine Camaro careening around Mt Panorama. The concept of name doppelgangers was explained to me at a later date. Anyway, the short story is that I didn’t have the same animosity towards this long-time rival as someone who’d lived through “Hungry” kicking 7 and the Pies behind at the same time.
It was only late last season that I became truly aware of this. To pass the time on the painfully long interstate train trip that Bomber Rich and I took for Round 21, we came up with the idea of putting together our AFL irritation indexes. As all true Pie fans know, we don’t have a “second” team, so it’s much easier to construct this ladder from the bottom up. So, before the doors had even shut at Strathfield station, Carlton and Brisbane were inked in, and over the next few hours other teams were traced in lightly with the HB and often soon erased. And somewhere between Yass Junction and Cootamundra, Richmond emerged, jousting with “the team everyone used to like” – Geelong, for second on the ladder. It was a unsettling experience, similar to those primary school barn dance classes where you had to hold hands with the ugly girl for 20 seconds.
Which segues well into today’s game. The start of the game arrives surprisingly quickly for a lazy Sunday, with minimal time to slip on the old VFL era long sleever. The coin is tossed and a very relieved looking Kane Johnson points towards the loungeroom window. Said window is promptly closed, nullifying any possible wind advantage. Ricky O gives the viewers some pertinent information for once, Jack Anthony in for Ben Reid. It’s Jack’s first game, and no better time for me to mention how much he looks like Del Preston from Wayne’s World 2. No idea if he’s going to beat Jay Schulz to death with his own shoes though. It’s doppelganger city, but unfortunately no Nathan Brown squared match up. The ball is bounced and after a few minutes of uncoordinated struggle, not unlike the primary school dance scenario above, Rocca kicks truly for the Pies first. The umps reckon it’s already getting too one sided and gift a 50 and goal to the Tiges. Then young Jack’s first touch of the ball. It’s a low grass cutter, way too short from Neon Leon, so JA gives him a hip and shoulder on the way through, bringing chuckles in the commentary box and the Pican household. It seems to wake Neon up though, and he goals from a tidy Wood tap soon after. The rest of the quarter is a black and white blur and surely Jack Dyer would be tempted to turn off the full colour plasma up in footy heaven’s pool room. We hold a 32-7 lead at the first break, including JA’s first goal with his first kick in top-level footy, only the 118th player in 112 years to do so.
Second quarter. Collingwood kick three quick goals in 3 mins and a loud smashing noise is heard up in the sky over Punt Rd, as Captain Blood hurls the remote through the screen. Pies up by 50-13. Jack Anthony kicks his second goal with his second ever kick of the footy, entering some rare club somewhere. I get the Pican statisticians to go to work on this stat down in the lab, but they can’t complete the task, interrupted by cheers and yelps upstairs as we extend out to 56-13. Then 63-14 and 70-15. It’s over. But I’ve forgotten the good old “time on” sleepy Pies, and so have they, as Richmond slot two late goals. 73-29 at the main break.
The dozy “time on” Collingwood come back out for the third term and play that way into the fourth, just idling along, and in that time the margin is whittled back to 37 points. No danger of a loss, not yet anyway. The game, like most school dances, ends up being a bit of an anticlimax, contest-wise anyway, and Cameron Wood puts the sealer on the victory with his first black and white goal. Final score – 18.14 -122 to 11.12 – 78.
The telly goes off, about 90 minutes after Dyer’s did, and thoughts go to the importance of for/against percentages on the ladder at the end of the season, and puttin’ the boot in when yer truely on top.
But it’s only Richmond, I guess, my 15th least hated team.
In case you’re wondering about the post header – the Richmond legend Jack Dyer apparently once said (I imagine it was to Lou Richards) that he hated Collingwood so much, he’d never watch a black and white television.