Due to a baby shower taking place at my house on Saturday, staying in to watch the footy was not an option. Unfortunately, the AFL ignored my pleas for a Carlton match to distract me, sending us to the wilds of South Australia. And that’s enough about that particular match. 

So my options were slim. Stay in an oestrogen-fuelled house refilling champagne glasses and sneaking tiny sandwiches, or sit on a damp wooden seat to watch the Northern Blues at Visy Park. I chose the latter.

My dad, another refugee from Babyland, accompanied me to watch the Blues take on Casey. The Blues, depleted by the recent injury woes of their Carlton mates went down fairly convincingly to the Scorpions. We’re pretty sure they did. The scoreboard wasn’t turned on.

It was a nice piece of symmetry going to the game with Dad, because the last match I saw played at “Prinny Park” was with him. I don’t particularly remember which one. But we stood behind the goals in the outer and from memory the Blues got up. We used to go to Visy Park a lot. We’d park at Princes Hill primary and walk the couple of blocks to the ground, and take up our position in the outer. When I got older, Dad would buy me a sneaky beer (hopefully mum isn’t reading this). I remember a young first gamer running out and a loud woman in the crowd calling out ‘Get a kick, RattAn!’, putting the emphasis on the second A that she had added to his name. I remember going out to Waverley one weekend, surprised by the ease of the traffic, only to find that we had the day wrong. Still hungry for footy, we drove back to Princes Park to watch the Roys, who called it home towards the end of their life. I remember the Peanut Man, and pies barely above room temperature. I remember Dad pointing out the practice ground he trained on with the Carlton Under 15’s. I remember watching Kouta take teams apart. I remember going ‘WOOF’ with glee as Ang hoofed it off the half back flank.

There’s nothing like 80,000 at the G, and having a lid on the ground is handy when that southerly is coming off the Tasman. But there really is something about Princes Park.

What are your Princes Park memories?