Dugald Jellie was born in the third quarter of a Richmond victory over Hawthorn at the MCG. His first words were, “Eat ‘em Alive!”. Dugald has lived in Richmond, played at Punt Road (in the annual Age v Herald Sun match), and thinks the Australian flag should be Yellow and Black. He joins richmondfc.com.au this year to expound on the serious business of being a Richmond supporter.
It’s part of Melbourne’s football folklore. The back-up beeps of a dump truck chimed to the front doors of Punt Road. On May 28, 2001, a cold and wet Monday morning, a querulous fan had arrived with a message. The day before, Richmond lost to Geelong by 42 points, playing away. The Cats kicked seven goals in the last quarter. The Tigers had slipped to four wins, five losses.
This unknown* supporter wasn’t happy. He engaged hoist hydraulics. A tray raised beneath the limb of an English elm. He edged forward and dropped his statement – $600 of chicken manure.
Good or bad, his was a passionate attachment to a football team. He was a Tigers man. He drove a tip truck. He had spare fertiliser. He thought to donate it to the Club.#
Welcome, football followers, to ‘tiger, tiger, burning bright’, a new blog dedicated to the age-old tradition of barracking for all things Yellow and Black. It’s a forum for fans of the game. It’s a place to collect stories and post comments about the intense drama of supporting Richmond. It’s where all are free and encouraged to express what it means to be a Tiger.
But first, a few random thoughts.
I know someone with a dog named Richo. She’s a Tiger.
Konrad Marshall, a gonzo journalist, two seasons ago wrote an eloquent story for the(melbourne)magazine about being within the Richmond cheer squad. “Hope has been building in me all week,” he wrote. “Because our commitment is so complete, I think, because our contribution is so error-free, maybe the team’s will be, too.” He’s a Tiger.
In the story he interviewed then 22-year-old Beau Beattie, seen often at the MCG wearing a luminous yellow afro wig behind the goals at the Punt Road end (his father Brett drives a sun yellow 1978 Holden Premier with a black stripe). Beau made a confession to the writer. “I would actually die for the Club,” he said. “If they said someone had to die to save the Club, I would do it. It sounds crazy, but if you knew how much it meant to people, it would make sense. I’d do anything for the Club”.^
Beau Beattie is a Tiger.
Being a Tiger isn’t always easy. It comes with no certainties. It has a recent history of loss-making. Some say it’s an affliction, a curse that ends more often than not with a feeling of being ninth-best. It’s also a very public fantasy, played out in winter in a weekly ritual before family and friends, embodied with shared and private memories of loss and elation, triumph and despair.
But when our time comes - entering the promised land of football under September sunshine - all will want to be a Tiger.
I, too, am a Tiger. Last week I cut out five letters in black felt and hand-stitched them onto a yellow T-shirt, so none could misread my loyalty. And this season I’m to write about what it means to be a Tiger. It’s a serious business. I wish to meet and talk and commune with Tigers. I want to voice the roar.
Hence this blog, to be posted twice-weekly.
On Monday, it’ll be a match report, written often through the eyes of others – a player’s parent, any number of passionate fans, a former player – who I will watch the game with. On Thursday, it’ll be a feature; about almost anything to do with Richmond.
All are encouraged to participate and join what the Yellow and Black faithful hope to be a season in which wonderful things happen. The Club has generously agreed to host the blog with a gift voucher to the Tigerland Superstore for the best-posted comment each month. The views and opinions, however, aren’t necessarily theirs.
Basically, I want to give off love and feel the love. It’s not a soapbox for complaint. Web forums fill that need (and Rosy23 at puntroadend.com, we admire your work!). Ours is to be an ongoing discussion about the curious predicament of being a Richmond supporter.
Having said that – no comments can be posted this week! It’s hoped next week – before the start of our season – a comments function will be available. In the meantime, I can be contacted via email or twitter.
tiger, tiger, burning bright.
Or on Twitter @dugaldjellie
*If anybody knows of the identity of Mr Chicken Manure, please contact me. I want to write about him.
#News reports were uncertain about the volume of deposited poo. It’s claimed the driver said he dumped the manure “because they (the team) had been playing like chooks”. The incident preceded a four-game winning streak and a run to a preliminary final. Coach Danny ‘Spud’ Frawley bagged up much of the manure for his garden. On current market value, $600 of chicken poo buys about 2.15 cubic metres, although considerably more if bought in bulk.
^ Not a recommended way of showing support for the Richmond FC. The membership department is looking to gain members, not lose them.
