I write on behalf of many thousands of other long-suffering Richmond fans seeking an apology for Your interventionist presence in Cairns at or or around 630pm last Saturday. I also wish to complain about Your extraordinary bias against the pious Richmond Football Club, one of the sporting world's last great bastions of religious fervour and delirious passion (admitted not always Godly, but You have to take what You can get when it comes to passion in these days so empty of meaning).
Don't try to deny that You were there, You omnipotent force You. First, using Your own reasoning that You are everywhere at all times, by definition alone You were there. Second, it seems that our coach saw You somewhere conspiring against us during that last 35 seconds of the match. Third, there were so many people screaming 'Oh God' immediately after the final siren that, even though I as unable to personally spot You, clearly plenty of others could.
And don't try to blame others for what happened. Sure, Richmond's first half was uglier and more impotent than the Devil's Marbles (ahem). Sure, in line with all expectations, towards the end of the match we ought to have been at least 10 goals the better of the the Gold Coast Suns of God (as they shall now and forever be called by me). And sure, our set up for that last centre bounce was as ineffective, disorganised and disastrous as the evacuation of the Titanic.
BUT - it could only have been You, dear God, who had the power to invisibly restrain Trent Cotchin from getting off the pine and onto the ground in those dying seconds. Only You who could joyfully put a Sherrin into the hands of a former rugby league player and have him kick straight in such extraordinarily rare and pressured circumstances. Only You who could arbitrarily decide to further prolong the suffering of we thirsty and starved Richmond fans. The week before, even the Devil himself, that great patron saint of the Melbourne Football Club, couldn't quite bring himself to inflict that sort of pain upon us. Yes, it was You alright God. I mean, let's look at why You would be biased.
First, everyone knows You've had it in for Richmond since we thrashed Your Boys from Vic Park by a record margin in the 1980 grand final. For, by Your own words, You are a vengeful, wrathful God. And what vengeance and wrath You have poured down upon us since then. Dozens of earnest but ultimately flawed players and coaches. The purgatory of Ninth. More wooden spoons than a Dutch kitchen. And Terry Wallace. Verily, by Your deeds shall we know You.
Second, Your grandson plays for the Suns of God, and it was clearly because of this special relationship that you were able to descend to and speak through Gary Ablett Jnr as Hunt lined up for that kick. 'Don't worry if you miss it'. What the?! Only an infinitely compassionate being could say such a thing on a football ground and in those circumstances. 'Don't worry if you cost us the last victory we may ever have'. 'Don't worry about how depressed and lonely you'll be after you've kicked this into the man on the mark.' 'Don't worry about the fact that you will have destroyed the 'rugby league to AFL' experiment for all time when you miss.' These are the things that mortal footballers would say. Verily, even by Your words shall we know You.
So God, I'm here waiting for Your apology and Your promise that You'll back off. After all, as demonstrated again this week, we the Richmond faithful can only take so much before we turn to irreligious violence.
I'll take a win this weekend over the rebounding Roos as the first instalment of Your mercy. And verily, how you shall see us repent.
God help us,
Your Humble Richmond Fan @paulhoworth
Eat em alive Tigers, eat em alive!
