I went to a NAB Regional Challenge match last Friday week, and ended up standing next to the captain of the local footy team and, as often happens, we fell into a conversation about his team, their prospects for the year, and his own form.
He had spent all his life in this town, playing for the local club for 15 years, but added "but I have never seen anything like this". But then, none of us had.
'This' was the match between Richmond and Essendon, played at the Red Cliffs Football Club on the outskirts of Mildura as a tribute to Cory Dowling, Stevie-Lee Weight, Cassandra Manners, Shane Hirst, his sister Abby Hirst, and Josephine Calvi, names tragically too familiar to us all.
When we arrived at the match, everyone asked what we thought of the ground, where even 10 days earlier, the prospect of hosting an AFL match had seemed unlikely.
They – everyone – had a craftsman's pride in their work, but also wanted to make sure that their work was a fitting tribute to the kids themselves; they needn't have worried, the ground reflected every drop of sweat and emotion that had gone into it.
And what do you do when all the tickets sell out in a couple of days and thousands more want to go?
You find some locals with earthmoving equipment who work around the clock for four days to build an enormous mound behind the goals to accommodate another 2000 people — and not a whiteboard, sub-committee or strategic workshop in sight.
As the day got underway, seeing players line up before a game is nothing unusual, but then came a video, played on giant screens around the ground – and we got a real understanding of what has been lost.
Photos at school, at friends' houses, at local football and netball games, shots at the MCG taken last year posing with Brett Deledio and Terry Wallace, photos at the deb ball, in the backyard with mum and dad.
The moment wasn't lost on the players. It was hard to watch, but we are all glad we did.
To see AFL players, as well as some of the hard men of football from days gone by, watching the video with tears glistening on their cheeks in the sun of a beautiful Mildura day is an image I will never forget … and one that does them credit.
And then there was a game of footy. It took a huge effort from hundreds of people locally, both AFL clubs and the AFL to stage this match, but it was worth it.
Mark Johnson called it his proudest day in the Essendon jumper and hours after the match finished, only darkness falling stopped Matthew Richardson from signing more autographs.
And if Andrew Demetriou does ever pursue that political career that the media like to speculate about, the countless requests for autographs and photographs suggest that the federal seat of Mallee might be a good starting place for such a career.
It was a great day, and we are all glad that we had the chance to do what we did, but we also knew that we were able to go home, to normal, unaffected lives, while the wonderful local people still have a hard road in front of them.
It is almost inevitable that whenever we hear the name of Mildura in the future, we will think about the tragedy in Cardross, an event that has left a sadness over the town forever.
But one thing that won't change is this community's pride, compassion and courage – and the ability to give all of us who were there a never-to-be-forgotten reminder about some of the things that are really important in life.
When I got back to Melbourne, I gave my kids an extra special hug and I actually felt a bit guilty about it, because Rex, Kerry, Terry, Carmel, Vincent, Stephen, Jennie-May, Sharon and Michael can't hug their kids anymore.
But kind, generous people that they are, they will understand.
• Colin McLeod is the AFL's General Manager, Marketing and Communications, and the father of four children
