I STARTED barracking for Melbourne in 1962. I was in Grade 2 at Scotch College.

 

My parents did not follow the AFL (or VFL, as it was in those days, of course), and I was the oldest child, so I inherited no allegiances.

 

At play-time, everybody played footy. For a long time I heard people shouting out "Rombrassi"! I didn't know what it meant, and thought it was all one word!

 

Eventually I plucked up enough courage to ask what it meant, and was told about "Ron Barassi". After that, I was a Melbourne supporter for life!

 

I had a big Ron Barassi swap card that I kept under my bed. I always felt a bit stronger and braver every time I looked at that card!

 

The next thing that happened related to Brian 'Doc' Roet. He was a young star of a champion team. (He played in the '64 premiership team.) My father worked as a senior doctor at the Alfred Hospital, and one day he told me that 'Doc' Roet was working for him! 

 

Then he brought home a sheet of paper containing all of the team's signatures that 'Doc' had given to him. That was pretty exciting!

 

Barracking for Melbourne wasn't much fun in the late '60s, though.

 

I remember going to the MCG, and seeing Melbourne put up a better than expected show against a top team, but still losing. I didn't really understand how the ladder worked, and asked my friend if they would get some credit for doing so much better than expected.

 

I was told that a loss was a loss. Ah, it's a cruel world sometimes!

 

I was also surprised how silent the MCG was at the time. I had only listened to the footy on the radio before that, and was surprised that there was no commentary when you were actually at the footy! (Of course, now it's quite different! There actually IS a commentary some of the time!)

 

Things didn't get any better in the '70s, but there were still some great individuals that I liked going to see, and these gave me some hope. These included Greg Parkes (though he couldn't kick!), Ross Dillon (took a great mark!), Gary Hardeman and Greg Wells. Then, of course, Robbie Flower arrived on the scene, and gave Melbourne supporters a reason to hold their heads high!

 

I write a lot of rhyming verse, so I've attached a poem, "The Saucing of the Pies". It's been published a couple of times. It was actually inspired by a game we played against Essendon in 2004. I think we narrowly lost, but we came much closer to winning than was expected on the day. I was particularly inspired by a mark Jared Rivers took, running back with the flight of the ball. That was the sort of thing Essendon usually did to us! It was tremendously courageous, as well as a wonderful piece of athleticism.

 

My son now barracks for Melbourne, too. He is 18. The last couple of years have been pretty tough, but we've been to quite a few matches together this year. It's great to see the boys doing a bit better. We get a real kick out of it when they win.

 

Where are we from? Glen Iris.

 

Thanks for the opportunity to share a few memories.

 

Best wishes,

 

We love to watch the football, and I’m talking AFL.

If you win it’s heaven, but if you lose it’s hell.

There’s Telstra Dome and Princes Park, both awesome, naturally,

But nothing beats the splendour of the mighty MCG.

It’s great to see the spinning ball, as through the goals it flies,

But nothing beats the glory of the saucing of the pies.

We take our coats and beanies, and an extra jumper, too.

It’s winter-time in Melbourne, and the gales keep blowing through.

We brace ourselves. We ask ourselves, “How bad can it get?”

It’s only wind and rain, you know, it’s only cold and wet.

And when the tempest passes comes the clearing of the skies,

But it’s nothing to the wonder of the saucing of the pies.

When half-time comes we join the queues to get some food that’s hot;

A drink, a serve of planks, a hot meat pie will hit the spot.

We join another line in which we find our cash and pay.

The thronging crowd is massive, and it seems to take all day,

But our pulses now are racing, for ahead that moment lies,

That extra special magic of the saucing of the pies.

Our chance is now upon us, and we move across the floor

To the mighty saucing station which we footy fans adore;

Four big pumps of bright red sauce, a bench of stainless steel,

There’s mustard, too, and vinegar, which also might appeal,

But most of us, we have our pies (and sausage rolls, of course),

And know exactly what we want. And what we want is sauce!

We hold our food beneath the nozzle, press the plunger down,

And watch with satisfaction as the golden crust we drown.

We start off with a bunch of circles, bright and red and neat,

But only when they’ve joined up can we say the job’s complete.

It’s a deeply Melbourne feeling. Your heart and soul will rise

In those sombre, sacred moments of the saucing of the pies.

© Stephen Whiteside 20.06.04