GVGjr
14-06-2014, 07:45 PM
Let me have a self-indulgent moment although in fairness it might be a lot more than just a moment.
I was born in the Footscray hospital in a time where the grandparents insisted that the grand children followed their team. No if’s but’s or coconuts. This wasn’t the modern time where latte sipping parents give their children the right of their own choice. I kid you not but supporting another team just wasn’t an option in my family and so many others. Kids or grand kids just had no choice.
I was about 5 when I first remember going to the football and it was at the Western Oval now called the Whitten Oval. My Nanna would have a friend of hers, actually a much younger neighbour, that lived in the same street drape a scarf over one of the few vacant seats and reserve it for her. The lady would then vacate her seat when Nan arrived because she was young and fit. That’s the way we did it in those days, someone would get there early when the ground opened and literally race to get a seat and then drape scarfs or blankets across another seat or two for their friends that were coming later.
You didn't deal with the ticketing agent you had family and friends drawn together our common love of the club help each other out.
There were few seats at the game so when you are just a little fella getting the chance to share one with your Nan was pretty special. The option of standing out in the cold for entire game was daunting. It was also a time where people genuinely thought of other people’s needs. Elderly women were given the priority of getting the few available seats, women in general were given a free passage to the front of the ground and the men all stood behind them and nearly all of the men wore a hat. Nan would pack some food and something like soup or a stew in the thermo's for the half time snack. Your grandfather would take you to the toilet when needed to go but generally you really could only go at half time because it was such a chore to push through the crowd. You could also lose your spot. By 3 quarter time the wind would spring up and the temperature would drop and you huddled into your Nan for some warmth. Call it love or the need to stop shivering but I still recall those special days.
By the end of the game it was back to Couch Street Sunshine to their tiny house for a meal to warm you up and for a killer dessert normally in the form of a fruity pud or stewed fruit with as much fresh cream as you could handle.
I always listened to my grandfather dissect the game and he could be quite savage on some of the players and regularly my Nan would chip in with a countering comment. Nan could challenge him but not the grand kids..they listened. She loved all her Bulldog boys and wouldn’t let my grandfather go too far condemning any of them. There was a limit and she was the adjudicator that my grandfather never challenged.
Around 7.30pm The Winners would come on the black and white tele and if you were lucky the best quarter of the Footscray game would be played. Come 8.30pm you were out like a light and carried to the car for the trip home.
Both of my granparents loved Ted Whitten. Ted worked at a local green grocer and my Nan wouldn’t dream of shopping for her veges anywhere else. Ted called her Mum in a very affectionate way. “Mum what can I get you today” and he would always pack her veges in her jeep. For the younger WOOF members ask your grandparents if they can recall their grandparents had a jeep for shopping.
My Grandfather idolised Ted Whitten and in his opinion every other player to have ever played the game couldn’t hold a candle to Ted. In any debate with other people my grandfather would never concede ground about Ted. He could find fault in every other players and had Ted in front of them. Daylight was 2nd. I wonder what he would have thought of Gary Ablett Junior, Carey or Matthews? I'm sure they they would pale in comparison though. I digress.
Years later I had the number 2 on my back and tried to tell my grandfather what a great player Bernie Quinlan was. “He’s nothing compared to Whitten” he would tell me and then bang on for 10 minutes about snippets of Whitten’s greatness. I heard those stories time and time again. You listened and you had little choice. To this day I still think Quinlan was the best footballer I had seen so Teddy must have been the greatest.
Years later and many things changed in my life, I had moved to the bush and getting to the footy and watching Footscray was just so much harder. I was playing junior footy as well so when we had the bye I would travel down by train with a mate or two to watch Footscray play. It was a rushed trip. You had to be on your bike after the game to get back to Flinders street to catch the 6pm train home.
I can recall going to one game at Princes Park where somehow I was allowed to stand on a level of the television scaffolding which perched me up about 4 feet off the ground. It was a precarious position that wouldn’t be allowed nowadays but the vision was amazing for its time but nothing like we experience now every week.
I couldn’t leave the spot because it wouldn’t have been there if I did. You tested the ability of your bladder in those days.
The game started off poorly. The Blues kicked 8 or 9 goals in the first quarter and it looked like we were in for a thrashing. I could only get to one or two games but there was no point in leaving early. By half time we had closed the gap a bit and about half way during the 3rd quarter the coach made some big moves. Quinlan was moved into the ruck with immediate impact. Sandilands was moved to the full forward position and started jumping on opponents heads. Quinlan or as he was known by Superboot would grab the ball out of the centre and drive it forward with a spiraling torp. Oh yeah they kick torps in those days or at least the players that could were allowed to. Going into the 4th quarter we had closed the gap further and there was a glimmer of hope. Like now nothing was easy in those days for Bulldogs supporters and of course the Blues steadied by kicking a couple and won by about 5 goals.
The visit to the toilet after the game seemed to take an eternity. It literally did. It was then onto the tram crushed in with both Blues and Bulldog supporters and heading back to Flinders street to catch the last train back home. I always got a Footy record and still do. I never much cared for the player they called "Jezza" and had recorded his stats for the game. In fairness he was probably in the last part of his career.
Yeah he could take a mark but I didn't rate him. He had about 6 kicks from my reckoning and given my vantage point I’ll back myself in saying the stats were pretty accurate.
Once I got home it was once again watching the Winners and the magical 3rd quarter was replayed. To my utter disgust Jezza was given the 3 votes by one of the commentators.
What a day, I left about 9am and got home about 7.15pm on the express. I couldn’t answer the call of nature for the better part of 8 quarters and then crushed onto a Tram and then traveled on an old rickety train home. Hiked it from the station and couldn’t wait to see if we had made the winners. To add a bit of insult to injury Jezza was given the accolades of being the best player on the day.
There are a few reasons for this self-indulgent snippet but essentially it’s to remind people that what we are experiencing now in terms of wins and losses, the fixturing of games, the negative press or even the spectacle of the game etc is just another challenging time in the journey of being a Footscray or Western Bulldogs supporter.
I had the pleasure to have a quick chat with someone I admire at the club today, he eloquently reminded me that we aren’t in a 100 metre sprint. I think I’m in for the marathon with him and I hope many others are. It's okay to be as frustrated as you want to but being a Bulldog supporter shouldn't be something you are questioning.
By the way the catalyst for this trip down memory lane is Mitch Honeychurch.
I had a good long look at him today and I think he is a champion. He isn’t a speedster and he isn’t tall but he just plays as hard as he can for us. I think with a bit of luck he could have a long career for us Bulldogs. We will hopefully teach him the right way to play and if he improves his skills he will just get better.
This might sound strange given Honeychurch kicked 5 goals for the game but that real 1% trait that I admired about him today is that when he comes off the ground for a spell he doesn't double over sucking in his breath even though he probably wants to. He stands and walks as tall as he can despite whatever discomfort he is in and he already appears to be a proud Bulldog.
In this day of giants playing the game I found a bit of love by seeing one of our new boys who's just 176cm tall standing as tall as he can. As supporters our love of the club might be tested at the moment but I think we can all learn something special from that. It might only be 1 percenter but it's a good start.
I was born in the Footscray hospital in a time where the grandparents insisted that the grand children followed their team. No if’s but’s or coconuts. This wasn’t the modern time where latte sipping parents give their children the right of their own choice. I kid you not but supporting another team just wasn’t an option in my family and so many others. Kids or grand kids just had no choice.
I was about 5 when I first remember going to the football and it was at the Western Oval now called the Whitten Oval. My Nanna would have a friend of hers, actually a much younger neighbour, that lived in the same street drape a scarf over one of the few vacant seats and reserve it for her. The lady would then vacate her seat when Nan arrived because she was young and fit. That’s the way we did it in those days, someone would get there early when the ground opened and literally race to get a seat and then drape scarfs or blankets across another seat or two for their friends that were coming later.
You didn't deal with the ticketing agent you had family and friends drawn together our common love of the club help each other out.
There were few seats at the game so when you are just a little fella getting the chance to share one with your Nan was pretty special. The option of standing out in the cold for entire game was daunting. It was also a time where people genuinely thought of other people’s needs. Elderly women were given the priority of getting the few available seats, women in general were given a free passage to the front of the ground and the men all stood behind them and nearly all of the men wore a hat. Nan would pack some food and something like soup or a stew in the thermo's for the half time snack. Your grandfather would take you to the toilet when needed to go but generally you really could only go at half time because it was such a chore to push through the crowd. You could also lose your spot. By 3 quarter time the wind would spring up and the temperature would drop and you huddled into your Nan for some warmth. Call it love or the need to stop shivering but I still recall those special days.
By the end of the game it was back to Couch Street Sunshine to their tiny house for a meal to warm you up and for a killer dessert normally in the form of a fruity pud or stewed fruit with as much fresh cream as you could handle.
I always listened to my grandfather dissect the game and he could be quite savage on some of the players and regularly my Nan would chip in with a countering comment. Nan could challenge him but not the grand kids..they listened. She loved all her Bulldog boys and wouldn’t let my grandfather go too far condemning any of them. There was a limit and she was the adjudicator that my grandfather never challenged.
Around 7.30pm The Winners would come on the black and white tele and if you were lucky the best quarter of the Footscray game would be played. Come 8.30pm you were out like a light and carried to the car for the trip home.
Both of my granparents loved Ted Whitten. Ted worked at a local green grocer and my Nan wouldn’t dream of shopping for her veges anywhere else. Ted called her Mum in a very affectionate way. “Mum what can I get you today” and he would always pack her veges in her jeep. For the younger WOOF members ask your grandparents if they can recall their grandparents had a jeep for shopping.
My Grandfather idolised Ted Whitten and in his opinion every other player to have ever played the game couldn’t hold a candle to Ted. In any debate with other people my grandfather would never concede ground about Ted. He could find fault in every other players and had Ted in front of them. Daylight was 2nd. I wonder what he would have thought of Gary Ablett Junior, Carey or Matthews? I'm sure they they would pale in comparison though. I digress.
Years later I had the number 2 on my back and tried to tell my grandfather what a great player Bernie Quinlan was. “He’s nothing compared to Whitten” he would tell me and then bang on for 10 minutes about snippets of Whitten’s greatness. I heard those stories time and time again. You listened and you had little choice. To this day I still think Quinlan was the best footballer I had seen so Teddy must have been the greatest.
Years later and many things changed in my life, I had moved to the bush and getting to the footy and watching Footscray was just so much harder. I was playing junior footy as well so when we had the bye I would travel down by train with a mate or two to watch Footscray play. It was a rushed trip. You had to be on your bike after the game to get back to Flinders street to catch the 6pm train home.
I can recall going to one game at Princes Park where somehow I was allowed to stand on a level of the television scaffolding which perched me up about 4 feet off the ground. It was a precarious position that wouldn’t be allowed nowadays but the vision was amazing for its time but nothing like we experience now every week.
I couldn’t leave the spot because it wouldn’t have been there if I did. You tested the ability of your bladder in those days.
The game started off poorly. The Blues kicked 8 or 9 goals in the first quarter and it looked like we were in for a thrashing. I could only get to one or two games but there was no point in leaving early. By half time we had closed the gap a bit and about half way during the 3rd quarter the coach made some big moves. Quinlan was moved into the ruck with immediate impact. Sandilands was moved to the full forward position and started jumping on opponents heads. Quinlan or as he was known by Superboot would grab the ball out of the centre and drive it forward with a spiraling torp. Oh yeah they kick torps in those days or at least the players that could were allowed to. Going into the 4th quarter we had closed the gap further and there was a glimmer of hope. Like now nothing was easy in those days for Bulldogs supporters and of course the Blues steadied by kicking a couple and won by about 5 goals.
The visit to the toilet after the game seemed to take an eternity. It literally did. It was then onto the tram crushed in with both Blues and Bulldog supporters and heading back to Flinders street to catch the last train back home. I always got a Footy record and still do. I never much cared for the player they called "Jezza" and had recorded his stats for the game. In fairness he was probably in the last part of his career.
Yeah he could take a mark but I didn't rate him. He had about 6 kicks from my reckoning and given my vantage point I’ll back myself in saying the stats were pretty accurate.
Once I got home it was once again watching the Winners and the magical 3rd quarter was replayed. To my utter disgust Jezza was given the 3 votes by one of the commentators.
What a day, I left about 9am and got home about 7.15pm on the express. I couldn’t answer the call of nature for the better part of 8 quarters and then crushed onto a Tram and then traveled on an old rickety train home. Hiked it from the station and couldn’t wait to see if we had made the winners. To add a bit of insult to injury Jezza was given the accolades of being the best player on the day.
There are a few reasons for this self-indulgent snippet but essentially it’s to remind people that what we are experiencing now in terms of wins and losses, the fixturing of games, the negative press or even the spectacle of the game etc is just another challenging time in the journey of being a Footscray or Western Bulldogs supporter.
I had the pleasure to have a quick chat with someone I admire at the club today, he eloquently reminded me that we aren’t in a 100 metre sprint. I think I’m in for the marathon with him and I hope many others are. It's okay to be as frustrated as you want to but being a Bulldog supporter shouldn't be something you are questioning.
By the way the catalyst for this trip down memory lane is Mitch Honeychurch.
I had a good long look at him today and I think he is a champion. He isn’t a speedster and he isn’t tall but he just plays as hard as he can for us. I think with a bit of luck he could have a long career for us Bulldogs. We will hopefully teach him the right way to play and if he improves his skills he will just get better.
This might sound strange given Honeychurch kicked 5 goals for the game but that real 1% trait that I admired about him today is that when he comes off the ground for a spell he doesn't double over sucking in his breath even though he probably wants to. He stands and walks as tall as he can despite whatever discomfort he is in and he already appears to be a proud Bulldog.
In this day of giants playing the game I found a bit of love by seeing one of our new boys who's just 176cm tall standing as tall as he can. As supporters our love of the club might be tested at the moment but I think we can all learn something special from that. It might only be 1 percenter but it's a good start.