It's A Grand Old Flag

Dear Son,

As you’ll quickly learn, and perhaps have started learning already, you are a Dees supporter. That’s right, a diehard fan of the Melbourne Football Club.

Your father is one. Your grandfather is one. And even your great grandfather is one. Not to mention your aunts and the likes of your great uncle. Even your mother whose a recent convert. She even knows ‘It’s a Grand Old Flag’ to the word and sometimes sings it out after a few drinks. I married well.

So the mighty Dees it is for you then, especially as I’ve already signed you up as a member. Of the Little Devils supporter group. Now, I won’t say it is easy being a Dees supporter. Their last premiership was in 1964 and your father has endured all sorts of pain in his lifetime as a result.

Yes, I am still waiting for that elusive first premiership in my lifetime. A lifetime that began while growing up during the dreaded 1980’s when we had our fair share of long winters and wooden spoons. I was always outnumbered in the playground as a result so lucky I had a thick skin and could always look down on the odd St Kilda or Fitzroy supporter nearby.

In contrast, your grandfather grew up during the golden age of the late 50’s and early 60’s when the Dees won 5 premierships over a 9-year period and played in 11 consecutive finals series. So I heard plenty about those years and wondered from time to time whether it was a case of child abuse on the part of your grandfather to make me support them. Alas, you need to experience the lows to appreciate the highs. A metaphor for life I guess.

Two lows stand out the most though – the 1987 Preliminary Final and 1988 Grand Final losses. Both to Hawthorn, whose fickle supporters really give you the shites. They won again in 2008 and acted like it was hugely deserved because they’d had to wait since 1991. 17 years does not compare to 47!

Anyway, I’d just moved to Brisbane with your grandmother and aunts so perhaps the tyranny of distance made the 1987/88 finals series so hard and that’s why they stand out so much for me.

So in 1987, we hadn’t made the finals in nearly 20 years and had only one last chance for our hero at the time, Robbie Flower, to experience finals footy. After winning five or six in a row to get us into a position to contest the finals, we took on Footscray (now Western Bulldogs) in the final round and just managed to scrap in after a memorable last quarter fight back. We also had to thank Hawthorn who managed to beat Geelong in a thriller to allow us to go through. The irony.

With my excitement at fever pitch back in Queensland and soaking up any kind of information about the Dees and about footy I could get, the Dees then demolished North Melbourne in the First Elimination Final by 118 points. An unbelievable result considering our young side and lack of any finals experience. The next week, the Sydney Swans by 75 points. It was like it was all coming together. And so it was, Hawthorn in the Preliminary Final to see who’d take Carlton on in the Grand Final a week later.

In a dogged clash, the Dees led throughout the game but in the last quarter Hawthorn just kept on getting closer and closer as the minutes ticked by. Not helped by 3-4 easy goal opportunities that we missed. It finally came down to the last minute and after another easy chance went astray, the Hawks had a kick-out from fullback while trailing to us by 4 points.

Straight down the middle they went. Hawthorn mark. Hawthorn kick. Hawthorn mark. Hawthorn kick. Then another Hawthorn mark taken by Gary Buckenara about 60m out. He went back to take his kick and as he started his run-in the siren sounded so he stopped.

But then, a very young and inexperienced Dees player from Ireland, Jimmy Stynes (future President and now hero of the Club), ran across the mark meaning a 15m penalty was awarded by the umpire. Buckenara then moved up to 45m to within kicking distance of goal and then slotted it through to give Hawthorn a win by two points after the siren.



"If looks could kill" - Jim Stynes and coach John Northey after the 87 Prelim loss

Shattered. Gutted. Devastated. I went outside and sat on the driveway and cried. Any Dees supporter that remembers that day well will have a similar story. And they’ll probably get a tear in the eye and shake their heads as they tell it.

The 88 Grand Final? Well, there’s not too much to talk about there except for the fact I was actually at the G, the hallowed turf, to witness it.

Basically, a very young Dees team had another good run through the finals series but exhausted and decimated by injuries, they came up against an experienced and hard-nosed Hawks outfit that was playing in its sixth straight GF. It was all over at quarter time and ended up being the biggest losing margin in a GF at that time. Absolutely horrible.

But truth be told, those two incidents have only worked to strengthen my resolve to support the Dees. The oldest footy club in the land and tradition aplenty. Not many out-and-out stars over the years but plenty of good players with ability to punch above their weight and work as a team.

We’re hoping for some out-and-out stars soon though. And I’m sure you’ll hear plenty of the likes of Scully, Trengove, Grimes and Watts. Perhaps even wear one of their numbers on your back like I did when I was a boy. No. 2 by the way – Robbie Flower.

And while the highs versus lows ledger is rather unbalanced in my time anyway, what’s the point in going through life taking the easy option all the time? By supporting the likes of a Hawthorn or a Manchester United or a New York Yankees. Without feeling the full depths of emotion. Without feeling the pain as well as the joy.

Yes, you need something to believe in to feel alive and when the time comes for the Dees to finally taste that elusive next premiership, well, it’ll all be worth it and probably a whole lot more as well.

I just hope we can enjoy that moment together, my son. That truly will be a special day. But hopefully earlier rather than later. There’s only so many years left in this life.

Your Dad (EDM).