Alright.  Alright.  It has been a while between contributions I know.  Since I last blogged for you lot (I think at least 3 people read this, so yes that's a lot as far as I'm concerned) the Tigers have been on the up.  This is despite the fact that, you know, after the Essendon loss all the non-believers were sacking players and coaches left, right and centre.  Do not get me wrong.  We played shite that night - bad Dreamtime. 

Yet since then, the steady method of learning to win and win well has continued on.  So much so that last week against the Doggies I think we played at, what, maybe 6 out of 10 (Dimma reckoned 7 out of 10 but he's pretty generous) and never looked threatened.  We still have quite a few things to work on too - tackling for example.  Tackle, Turnover, Spread, Score is the system and we won't beat sides above us if we don't get the tackle step happening.  But I'm not complaining, just trying to stay real.

Putting that aside, my main reason for blogging this week is to talk about what 60,000 members means for Richmond.  We are just the third club to reach that mark, and that is off the back of a very lacklustre recent history.  Imagine.  Imagine the number when we finally win that flag. What it means though.  What it means. 

What it means to those of us who lived through the club survival campaigns of the late 80s, when Tiger-clad grannies were shaking tins to get the punters' coins so we could pay debt. 

What it means to those of us who've understood that the modern AFL actually IS about money and paid up support, but money spent well, not thrown away on this has-been recruit or that over-inflated ego.  Money spent on boring stuff like training facilities, football department talent, change rooms that players can get nude in without running the risk of getting some ancient strain of tetanus left behind by bloodied Tigers of old.

What it means to those of us who've seen miserable coach after miserable coach pilloried, sacked and paid out.  Those who sat through the two decades lost by the club trying to buy this superstar player or that coaching genius, thinking that an AFL premiership was as cheap as a VFL one. 

What it means to those of us who've sat in the outer watching fans self-destruct, membership cards flung / microwaved / inserted in the nether regions of unsuspecting players, love disowned, thermos coffee spilt, dreams shattered.  Those of us who've endured long train rides home on the incomprehensible Pakenham or the criminal Frankston lines, carriages full of yellow and black clad families sitting in silent, dismal gloom (usually but never exclusively after Round 1 and another fecking thrashing by the Blues).

What it means to fans like me, dudes and gals who have tried to stay on the right side of sanity, or who have turned from time to time to Shakespeare or God to try to find meaning from the tragic-comic love that only, ONLY, Richmond fans know. What it means.  What it means.

We now have 60,000 committed fans, 60,000 members standing together behind the club, behind the players, behind the coach, behind the system.  When 60,000 human beings cooperate around some thing, the potential of that thing must be great.  There have been some periods in our recent history when fans could be forgiven for walking away, but this 60,000 who've chosen to represent now are NOT being inspired by last year's flag or a decade of success.  We are being inspired by calm steady methods for realising the potential of our club. 

And that's what impresses the tetanus out of me because I posted a blog a year or two ago where I expressed my view that if we want an elite club then we need an elite fan base.  Not a carping, whinging, cowering, frightened mob of self-hating, success-starved vultures.  I copped a bit of flack for saying that, but it doesn't matter now.  Richmond fans are voting with their dollars and their sense.  This is all that matters.  From this commitment, we can build an elite club.

Finally, I want to pay personal respect to the efforts of CEO Brendan Gale.  He wont remember me but I shared a law class or two with him in the late 90s at Monash Uni.  When a footballer turns up to a law class or two, you pay attention, especially if he's from your club and within striking distance after a weekend's loss.  I watched him.  He was a cut above.  He was going places. He was strategic.  He was sharp.  But he was all of that while remaining a down-to-earth, straight talking communicator.  Do not underestimate how hard it is to work successfully in a role where the worlds of grass roots football passion and high office collide.  Most fail or turn into first prize tossers. Not Brendan.  Steady. Calm. Strategic. Humble.  So I dedicate the whole damn 60,000 of you to his efforts to lead the modernisation of our club.

Saints this week.  Enough said.