I’ve often wondered why I have been a Richmond supporter my whole life. What it is that draws me to the Tigers. Some may think that supporting them is unfortunate considering I was born in 1988, a time in which the once mighty Richmond Football Club was struggling to even survive. Since then I have witnessed a total of 2 finals appearances, 3 wooden spoons, 9 different coaches and 7 different captains at the helm of the club. There have been wins and many, many losses during this time but despite the misfortune of the club, something has always kept me there in the stands or in front of the TV cheering on my beloved club in rain, hail, shine or any other weather that may befall my area. So what is it that keeps me here? There is no simple answer that is for sure.
The family connection definitely helps. You see my father barracks for Richmond and he did a very fine job of brainwashing myself and my brother into supporting his team from a very young age. He always made sure to let us know that if we ever wavered from supporting Richmond then we would find ourselves outside in the cold until we recommitted to our love for all things yellow and black. Luckily for us though we never did waver and as such spent many a night inside under a safe and warm roof!
Surely just family wouldn’t keep me and my brother at Tigerland though, it definitely isn’t enough to account for the passion in which we show for our club. So what else keeps us and so many others around Australia so involved with a mere Football Club?
Perhaps it is the champions of the game we have seen don the yellow sash that keepทางเข้าเว็บตรงufabet us coming back for more. As a child I ran around the backyard with a football tucked under my arm, imagining I was Matthew Richardson galloping across the turf on the wing of the MCG. ‘One bounce, two bounces, from 50 metres on the boundary out he steadies and slots the ball through the middle for a wonderful goal.’ My brother preferred to be Brendan Gale and would stand as tall as he could, pretending to be the Richmond ruckman. For hours I would entertain myself by running entire matches through my head as I kicked the ball to myself and into the sideways turned trampoline that represented my goal posts. Richmond would win of course, a perfect record in fact, many premierships were won and hundreds of after the siren goals were kicked. Even at that age, Richmond was a passion, an addiction, something that I would and could not break out of.
Then there are the memories; the moments that made you laugh, cry and scream out in ecstasy. All of them unforgettable in their own way and