craig

Heading into the Port Adelaide game the thoughts through this writers head was about banking the win. On a day like it was, with the glorious sunshine, it was important to put this game in the back pocket. The week before was different. That GWS game had significance for the club and fans, given that during the week we were pronounced as ‘flag favourites’ by the football media. Richmond as flag favourites… three weeks after three straight losses to middle of the road Adelaide and North, plus actual contenders Geelong. In the intermediate three weeks, a bye and the opportunity to beat-up on the Gold Coast and St Kilda.

Embed from Getty Images

The week before was different. That GWS game had significance for the club and fans, given that during the week we were pronounced as ‘flag favourites’ by the football media. Richmond as flag favourites… three weeks after three straight losses to middle of the road Adelaide and North, plus actual contenders Geelong. In the intermediate three weeks, a bye and the opportunity to beat-up on the Gold Coast and St Kilda.

Flag. Favourites. Sheesh.

After proving ourselves last week, the most important thing against Port, was to back that up with not just a win, but a solid win. A win where we displayed the Richmond way of footy that reinforces our chances for 2019. System, structure, style.

So we come to a very bright sunny and warm Saturday afternoon in July. “Big boy month”. The month that usually catches the Pies out, as they end to tumble down in July. Possibly the most significant month of the year, outside of September.

And on that bright sunny day, the old cliché “if you can’t play on a day like this”, etc was wheeled out. I was lucky enough to be invited to the game by Ryan, the Exiled Victorian, and joined him in the rather salubrious level two of the southern stand. All padded seats covered in jackets and scarves as far as the eye could see. Cup-holders! Attendants directing you to the bars ‘behind the glass’. Rare air for this M55 regular. Footy in the sunshine with bright and friendly company… a great day in store.

And entertaining footy by the Tiges to match the weather was the order of the day. A three goal to nil first 10 minutes saw to Port. Well, it didn’t completely finish them off as there was still 100+ minutes left, but you just felt that they were already done.

Prestia was good early, as too Bolton who had runs in the centre setup. And Lynch was out of the blocks early. Delightful footy.

And so it went for the day. Richmond holding off the Power after each thrust by them, and also working hard enough to increase the lead at each change. Winning every quarter. Dustin Martin was back to his best. Brandon Ellis copped a lot of rubbish from our section of the stands but pretty much proved the mockers wrong, bringing lots of drive from the back. He’s had a great year given his 2018, and I hope he stays. He’s almost a ‘best 22’ for the pointy end of the year.

At 3/4 time I said to Ryan with some shock and alacrity “Hey wait what? Is it three-quarter time? It can’t be!”. The game was just so fun that it didn’t seem like we were at that point of the game.

What can anyone say about Grimes and Astbury that hasn’t been said already? Both were imperious and unbeatable. Broad plays a lesser role but is also vital. Unrewarded by footy media chat. Such a redemptive two seasons he has had. Big fan of the plumbers apprentice.

The last quarter became a bit of a parade as we continued on with it. Solid enough footy against another contender with lots to play for. As up-tempo and ‘on our game’ as we have all season. A pleasure to watch, and their best game of the year so far (that I’ve been to). I did tweet at the end that it was such a good day that the game should never have ended.

Embed from Getty Images

FOR THE LOVE OF THE LITTLE THINGS

The Maric factor.

Still influencing the club. Publicly but without fanfare.

From the Skipper cleaning up the rooms after a game to Nathan Broad picking up Tex’s strapping to now @JackRiewoldt08 picking up rubbish on the ground. My club is the best #gotiges #AFLTigersPower pic.twitter.com/UgNkDdQPti

— Trav Benson (@tcb934) July 20, 2019

The Brotherhood of Players.

Jack, and scrambling a dink of a kick forward from a contest, picked up by Stack (who pressured the ball out of the Power’s control), and then Stack handing the ball off to Brandon for the goal.

Rioli and Stack with their muted goal celebration late in the game.

Ivan II’s goal was a highlight. Not for his (should be trademarked) dink of a kick over the umps head and into row D, but for the player reactions around him. First to Ivan to celebrate was VFL ruck partner Mabior, who also celebrated with arms in the air as the mark was taken.

Positional Play

What a display by both Tommy Lynch and Jack Riewoldt. Working off each other and not in each others way. Some of the positioning and body work by Lynch was liquid football.

Embed from Getty Images

Onward and Forward.

With almost every play the drive is forward.

Chol grabs a loose ball out of the ruck and takes them all on with a burst out of the congestion, while at the same appearing to be in no more than second gear and not even looking like moving to third. He follows it up with a lace-out kick to Lynch. Chol has a huge upside we have not seen half of yet.

An outnumber in the forward 50 and we still shunt on. How ridiculous is this game that Lynch can be 1 against 2, have a ball kicked in his general direction (by Rioli?) and then the bounce of the ball sets him up for a goal around the corner while being tackled? Ludicrous.

Embed from Getty Images

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Benny Votes by Lapsed Tiger

5 Tom Lynch
4 Dylan Grimes
3 Dustin Martin
2 David Astbury
1 Dion Prestia

Leaderboard

Houli 33
Martin 31
Grimes 24
Edwards 22
Vlastuin, Lynch 21
Stack, Prestia 18
Lambert 12
Ellis 11
Cotchin, Bolton 7
Castagna 6
Nankervis 5
Baker, Broad 4
Chol 3
Astbury, Ross, Naish 2
Rioli, Balta 1

Blair Hartley Appreciation Award: for players who have joined Richmond from another club
(Eligible 2019: Caddy, Grigg, Houli, Lynch, Nankervis, Prestia, Townsend and Weller)

Houli 33
Lynch, Prestia 18
Nankervis 5

Anthony Banik Best First Year Player: for anyone who was yet to debut before round 1
(Eligible 2019: Balta, Coleman-Jones, Collier-Dawkins, Miller, Naish, Ross, Turner, Stack)

Stack 18
Ross, Naish 2
Balta 1

Joel Bowden’s Golden Left Boot:for left footers
(Eligible 2019: Chol, Grigg, Nankervis and Houli)

Houli 33
Nankervis 5
Chol 3

Greg Tivendale Rookie List Medal:
upgraded from the rookie list during the current season

(Potentially eligible 2019: Aarts, Baker, Chol, Eggmolesse-Smith, Stack, Townsend, Weller)

Stack 18
Baker 4
Chol 3

Maurice Rioli Grip of Death Trophy:
For the Tiges top tackler in 2019

Prestia 82
Graham 63
Castagna 50
Baker 48
Vlastuin 47
McIntosh 45

By Lapsed Tiger

I have no idea why I was drawn to Richmond.

It would have been about 40 years ago, so a few key suspects have always been prime in my mind as to why Richmond became part of me.

The early 70’s were part of the Hafey era. Of back-to-back Premierships, and finals seemingly all the time. The ‘Ruthless Richmond’ driven to attack the footy and opposition with full gusto, and the “Eat ’em alive” desire to win.

They must have been on the TV every week. And would have been ‘match of the round’ on 3UZ and 3LO.
And for a small lad, they would have seemed like the ultimate footballers.
Being with the winners is where you wanted to be. Is that what drew me to them?

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Jim Jess, ‘The Ghost’

I grew up in a family that liked football, but were never fully into football to go week in week out. Nor to commit themselves wholly to the local club, and to the weekly training and playing grind that hundreds of thousands of families and kids of the era did.
“Mugs game” was my father’s favourite rebuttal to my every seasons request for new footy boots, or to be taken to training for the local team.
But I would try footy… train, have a run and get a kick. But never get an actual game, bar one time.

There was no greater feeling in my fleetingly brief football playing experience, than picking out of the box the number 20 on the back of the Primary School team jumper, and putting it on.
My first team jumper earned.
And in choosing the number 20, for fleeting moments, I was ‘The Ghost’, albeit decked out in green with the ’20’ in white.

Breaking into the local club team was touch harder.
And the term “Mugs game” would come back to ring in my ears. The clashes and bumps, mud and rain and the bitter cold of training nights would come to haunt my football experience every cold winter.

I was never prepared for the hard, dirty graft of footy in winter in Melbourne. I am sure my Dad told me the same. And I was quite a shy kid, so doing the whole ‘social’ thing that is club footy was hard too.
But cockeyed optimist was I, blindly drifting off to that oft-imagined childhood footy dream.

The reality of football had me out of the local club quickly. Tired, cold, wet, and most importantly, without that first team jumper.
And pummelled from pillar to post, being built as I was back then, in the ‘David Bourke’ mould.

All I really aspired to was being at the club until ‘Pie Night’.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

There was only, at best, a very tenuous link to Tigerland. A slender silver thread between our family and one of the greats. The magic of that association, and the mythical deeds of one of thee greatest, drew me to the Tigers.

Royce Hart was my first football hero, and also to thousands of others no doubt. The flame that drew this moth to the MCG.
I only have vague memories of him playing. I am pretty sure as a 9 year old I saw him play, perched in the top deck of the Southern Stand with my dear Dad. To this impressionable lad he played with an ease and grace that normal ‘good ordinary footballers’ could only dream of. Or was it just my adulation that gleaned only the good moments and dispensed with all else. Surely in those twilight years he was dogged with niggling injuries. At such a young age I was blind to that detail.

And that name!
Royce.

To a kid from the sprawling western suburbs of Melbourne, where most boys were Shanes and Daves, Jeffs and Paulos, Christos’ and Zorans, the name Royce lit-up the imagination. It was a name that seemingly could only be bestowed upon someone destined for immortality.

Better still was to hear it being called through the speakers of the little window to the world in the corner of our living room on a Saturday night, or via the radio with the live call of the play.
” Royce!! ” would be the cry from Harry Beitzel or Ian Major on the radio… and you would wonder what spectacle was unfolding to have that name shouted down from the ether.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Royce and the early 70’s Premierships stamped my card in Melbourne life with the word “Tiger”.
Indelibly.
Irrefutably.

Even through the years when I stopped going to games, or even joined in the office footy talk on the Monday.

And even today… where the Tiger momentum under Hardwick and Gale now is becalmed and drifting.

Still a Tiger.
Still backing the club, even at a distance.
You don’t ever lose that deep-seated love for Richmond. True Tigers don’t ever leave.
“These are not dark days… “