No Longer!
For too long now we have hidden our true selves away. We have sat in the outer and been reasonable over 100 point losses, over losing ground to teams always beneath us. For too long now we have watched ourselves leaving early, have failed to teach the song to children, have cheered solitary goals rather than the ancient avalanche.
No Longer!
For game after game we have clutched at the fool’s goal of early leads, of tanking debates or the quest for youth. For too many games we have been happy if the damage was slight rather than suicidal. For too many games we have failed to record goals in the football record, or sought out the opposition on the train rides home.
No Longer!
For years now we have forestalled reading the Monday papers. Have disowned the team before the crows called three times; Judas’s, we have considered hanging our scarves in the recesses of the closet and pretend each loss does not matter: That rebuilding is easy and we are filled with infinite patience.
No Longer!
This is a call. A call to the Bluebagger army. A call to let loose our voices, to sing and strut and swagger, to expect this side to never surrender, to expect a win every time they run out onto the ground. We are no longer the brittle, fearful children of yesterday. We are fast cementing ourselves into a formidable unit.
Twice now when all seemed lost and the weaknesses fed during the dark years rose up and whispered ‘we are gone, we are truly gone’, twice now the call has been wrong. That was the call when we were weak, when we were boys, when we had more holes than a mouth of Collingwood teeth.
No longer do we need to doubt, to quiver, and to expect a rout. So this, this call from the stands, this cry for our beloved bluebaggers, this shout of welcome back! This is a call to arms. Come out, come out where ever you are! Each and every bluebagger farther and bluebagger son, each and every Old Dark Navy mother and her cherished Old Dark Navy daughter! This is a cry to fill the stands, start the flood, the navy blue flood of returning to the promised land.
We have wandered our desert, we have been tested and broken and rebuilt. We have crossed the seas of other sides, watched ourselves drown in their goals, and swam in their songs, wept at their joy. And we have grown strong.
This then is our song. Our song of return. The first time we beat Collingwood there were excuses written in black and white, in every paper, read from behind every reporting desk, spoken about at coffee breaks and smokos across this great town.
Everyone agreed it said nothing about Collingwood and little about us, that first win. It was, to all intents and purposes, a write off!
Well write this off!
4 goals down then suddenly we have drawn level. Goal for goal and then we slam on goal after goal. 2 in the last 2 minutes. We are back in the real game and Collingwood have no answers.
No answers to Judd no matter how hard the tag, no answers to Murph who showed their two ‘high picks’ to be front-runners, not possessing the gut busting run and steely determination of our beloved Murph! No answers to the rotation, to AB’s fanatical tackling, to the bravery of Griggs and Armfield, to the mad Irishman’s conquest of the wrong Cloke.
No answer to why they handed us the right Cloke, whose heart must be bigger than his chest. And they have not a single idea of how to cope with Fev! How Fev must wish every week was a black and white week. He’d break 150 before the mid season break!
And so this time in black and white, in every paper and read out by every reporter, the truth of the matter, the fact. We are back and we are in the 8. We are back and just like in times of old we may be down but we are never out of it. We are back and Collingwood have no answers to us. We are the 44 point comeback, the ‘Jesaulenko you beauty’ mark, the Wayne Harmes punch to Sheldon in the square. We are the back and white’s worst Nightmare!
And so this cry, this navy Blue call to each and every supporter to come out of the woodwork, to set sail again on the bluebagger ocean of joy, come and see us smash the Dons this weekend. Come and merge with the sea of us, the ocean of bluebaggers who are back, singing strong and joyous that the side has been returned to us.
This is the Carlton we know!
I have always loved Jezza, my father enshrined Big Nick in each of his children’s hearts, and Doully and Johnno are my brothers’ favourites but now, now is the time of the Ratt!
Some come along this weekend, don your scarves and jumpers, fill the flasks and make the sandwiches, bring your pens and buy the footy records, the Blues are back in town and this weekend, this sacred Sunday we will obliterate the Bombers.
Judd and Murph and Stevo, Scotland the brave and AB in the middle. Rotate them with Gibbs, JR (the lastquaterman), Eddie and the rest and the bomber midfield will spin like a wounded bird, falling into the hallowed turf, their supporters experiencing our lost misery.
Who will stop the avalanche as we press forward? Who will stand up to our unrelenting pressure and never say die attitude? No one, for in truth, the Bombers have no one capable of resisting the Navy Blue Tide.
So get along this Sunday. Forget the heartaches of the past few years, forget the pain and the tears, bring your voice and your smiles, bring your victorious fists and dancing feet. This weekend we’ll add another victory and make it three in a row!
Fev for 5
Murph for 3
AB for BOG.
Go Blues!
Please Note: the views expressed in the above article are solely the opinion of the author and do not reflect the opinions of the Carlton Football Club or those employees of the Club. The Carlton Football Club would like to acknowledge the tireless work of those supporters who contribute to carltonfc.com.au.
