Damien Hardwick

Crossing the Line

30/07/2015 By Andy 5 Comments

Caroline Wilson asked Damien Hardwick, on Tuesday’s Footy Classified: “what do you say to Adam Goodes tonight?” He responded in his typical manner: trying to take the heat out of the issue and focus on the people who are involved at the most critical point of the matter. He uttered one sentence that, perhaps unfairly condemned some members of ‘the footy community’. Footy coaches have the unenviable task of having to pretend that footy is the most important thing in the world, while also emphasising that it is just a game. It is a kind of work that is all-consuming; footy these days, devoid of the play that it derived from. Footy coaches, too, are asked questions in many matters beyond footy.

Dimma: “I was thinking about this [Wilson’s question] on the way in. It is an incredibly sad set of circumstances. I played against him for a long period of time. Now I’ve coached against him for a period of time. As a player – I still worry about him as a coach. … Unfortunately there are some moronic people, within society, within footy crowds. It is an incredibly bad look. Whether it is bullying, racism, I don’t know. It is just incredibly disappointing that Australian football people do this. We’re a family. I don’t understand why we don’t treat each other as family. The fact of the matter is, if my Richmond supporters are booing Adam Goodes, they’re booing Shane Edwards, they’re booing Nathan Drummond, they’re booing every single Indigenous player in the competition. And it is not on.”

Dimma remembers the good days

Dimma’s expression changed from cheerful at the beginning of his answer, to grim by the conclusion. Cheerful, while thinking of the qualities of Goodes as a footballer, grim while condemning the attitude to Goodes coming from the crowd.

Adam Goodes, 365 games, two Brownlows, two Premiership medals, Australian of the Year. To think of Goodes as only a footballer is to deny his identity and to deny his ongoing work to attain the appropriate place for Aboriginal Australia in the Australian nation. He doesn’t deserve indifference, let alone racist bullying; he deserves respect and love. He should be a figure of pride for the whole footy community, instead he has been – hopefully only for the very short term – pushed out of the game he has given so much to.

The position of the Richmond Football Club in this issue is clear. In terms of its current players, the Club has highlighted the story of Shane Edwards and his process of exploring his family’s story. The Club has played a committed role in the Dreamtime at the G game. Perhaps most importantly, though, the RFC is home to the Korin Gamadji Institute, which offers training for Indigenous youth to develop life-skills, such as ‘leadership, health and well-being and cultural pride and affirmation’. The KGI has been endorsed and highly recommended by Reconciliation Australia. The team on Friday, will again don the Dreamtime jumper: a proud moment to indicate solidarity with Goodes and the values he stands for.

Come on you Tigers.

Suitably stern

Longing for Pretty Moves and Richmondness

30/04/2015 By Andy 1 Comment

Eduardo Galeano died on 13th April 2015 in Montevideo, the city also of his birth. One of his most famous passages is as follows:
Years have gone by and I’ve finally learned to accept myself who I am: a beggar for good soccer. I go about the world, hand outstretched, and in the stadiums I plead: “A pretty move, for the love of God.”And when good soccer happens, I give thanks for the miracle and I don’t give a damn which team or country performs it.

Galeano’s passage above is an invitation to admire the beauty in sport; to give up on team rivalries and being biased, one-eyed. He transforms the position of supporter into that of appreciator; one who is blind to team jerseys and jumpers and instead considers only beauty.

Is it possible to watch a game without considering the score and while forgetting our allegiances, whether they stem from family, geography or ‘tradition’? I doubt for many it is possible. I doubt for me it is possible. I watch Richmond games and fret and look at the clock and groan at the errors or disruptions to attacks; I feel more relief than joy when the team wins. After all, I’ve played no part in it; just a spectator from a distance.

‘Pretty moves’ are more likely to be more common than victories for one’s team. A game, is made up of so many moments, each playing a role in victory or loss. Richmond too produced a moment of beauty in the match against Melbourne, in the second quarter. There is pleasure to be taken in watching a player play better than he has before. But, this is a team sport, and supporters are hungry for team success, which is virtually always a zero-sum equation.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Mr.Hardwick used the term ‘un-Richmond-like’ in the aftermath of the loss against the Bulldogs. The loss was disappointing, not because it was a loss against a team ‘that we are better than’, or because it was against a team coached by first-year coach. It was disappointing because the team had many opportunities to score goals and didn’t. Moreover, there was a sense that the Bulldogs players wanted to play harder than the Richmond team. They were hungrier; they had more appetite.

Perhaps there could be an app which fans could use to register their sensing of their players’ desire for the contest. This could complement all the very detailed numerical data provided by Champion. There could be the haven’t-turned-up-to-play-meter (brought to you by Nlyex Plastics); the Dusty-has-got-his-mind-on-other-things-meter (brought to you by Harley Davidson); the need-to-show-more-leadership-meter (brought to you by Flinders Bakery). The game is very much about impressions as well as numbers.

But, anyway. The comment ‘un-Richmond-like’ stuck with me. This term refers to the very essence of Richmond-ness. What is a Richmond-like performance? The mind boggles which Richmond one would like to use for evidence in defining Richmondness.

The jumper is the most iconic image of Richmondness. Even though it now doesn’t look like it used to – ie with advertising and logos applied all over it, the yellow-sash on black is unmistakable. It is a traditional footy jumper which undergoes minor alterations almost yearly. Regardless, each time the team comes out to play, us Richmond fans can see the team and agree, ‘yes, those are them Tiges.’ ‘Come on you fellers, eatemalive.’

After the Dogs loss and the Dees loss, I have wondered, which is more desireable: a Richmond-like performance in an un-Richmond-like jumper or an un-Richmond-like performance in a Richmond jumper?

It helped remind me of the qualities of rival teams. And so, I drew a few variations on a yellow-and-black theme, in the styles of other teams. Pardon my heresy. They are only drawings.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

I have come to the conclusion that the yellow-sash on black is still the best jumper. But, please, a Richmond-like performance to go with it.

What Makes a Win

10/08/2014 By Andy 1 Comment

How is a victory made? I’m trying to think of what makes this win against Essendon feel the way it does.

Probably some seven weeks ago, Damien Hardwick was asked what the team needed to get out of the season now that it was effectively over –i.e. having no chance of making the finals. He replied to say, ‘we need to win. We need to give something back to the fans.’ He also said that the Tiges were a better side than what they seemed to be by their 3:10 record.

This was a risky statement to make. It would have been easier for him to talk in generalisations, about improving more generally so that they would be able to be in their best form for 2015. But, he put it simply: wins on the board, now. Ugly, boring, grinding – matter.

***

The first five wins of this streak have been underwhelming and forgettable. The thousands of disappointed fans and members have been slow to get back on board – burnt by the early to mid season listlessness of the team. Perhaps they have been somewhat unconvinced by the pedestrian nature of the wins, coming against team playing beneath their best.

Imagine, for example, if the Tiges had beaten Port Adelaide at the Adelaide Oval in the middle of their streak, their hot form, with their masses of fans creating that wonderful sense of game day. But no, it happened at the Telstra Dome – or whatever it is called – with a small crowd and those who were there were probably already feeling put out by having to attend a home game at an away venue.

The AFL has a tendency to overstate the centrality of football in the lives of the good citizens of Melbourne and the surrounds. And thus a crowd of some 70,000 was hoped for. Damien Hardwick and some of the Richmond players, though, should be commended for recognising that the team had done much to disenchant and disappoint the fans. The disappointment of this season being felt all the greater because of the high expectations that the Club built up over the long cricket-full summer. The crowd turned out to be 58,000.

The consistent excellent form of Dustin Martin, the instant arrival of Miles as a player (after his much anticipated debut for Richmond) and the development of Riewoldt into a much more rounded player couldn’t provide sufficient succor for a team and fans expecting not only to play in the finals, but also for a win in September. The righting of the good ship Richmond has been as sure as it has been unspectacular. Until Friday night that is.

***

I had planned to watch the game live. But, I got caught up in a long Skype conversation and so, rather than resuming watching the game from third quarter, after having seen most of the first quarter, I watched the full replay from the second quarter onwards, some six hours after the game’s completion. A media blackout was enforced for those hours in between.

For twelve years I have loved the jumper. For twelve years I have been with Richmond. I have not been to as many games as I would have liked. I have been far from 3121 for the past four years. But followed them I have. Each summer, I have been convinced that the next season would be ours. Folly and naivety most think. I have admired our good players; I have respected their characters. I did my best to find something good to say about Terry Wallace during those years and many days in which he came under so much criticism. Much of it warranted. I wrote him a letter: wishing him all the best, despite the difficulties. I wrote Danny Frawley a letter after an uncouth fan spat towards him. Frawley, polite, replied and wrote of the many other fans who had also voiced their outrage. I gave Richard Tambling the benefit of the doubt: he would become a player in the right circumstances, I was sure. I almost cried with happiness when the Tiges thrashed the Hawks in the wet at the MCG a couple of years ago. For twelve years I had loved the jumper and admired the players. But it was Friday’s game in which I fell in love with this team; with each of the players; one by one; one at a time. Purely platonic, of course – I don’t want Brian Taylor to get uncomfortable.

In days gone by, with the luxury of watching the replay, I would have skipped to the end. I would have checked the result on Richmond website to see if it was safe to continue watching. But this time, I stayed put. My knees against my chest, peeking out at the screen. I convinced myself that ‘surely this is more stressful than watching soccer’ – longer than 90minutes and so many chaotic possibilities. So many players who could make a single mistake that could lose the game for the team. I thought of Cameron Wood’s mistake against Freo a couple of weeks ago. I thought: how ironic – Richmond are playing so well, so beautifully – just as we want them to, but, we might suffer a tortuous loss.

***

On the commentary, Bruce kept on writing Essendon off. I don’t know why he does it. Bruce seems to belittle the opposition. ‘One more goal here could make it really difficult for Essendon’. Didn’t he see last year’s Brisbane-Geelong game up at the Gabba? Didn’t he see the third quarter of Richmond-North Melbourne this year? 30 points means nothing. But despite even Bruce’s best efforts to put the Mozz on Richmond, the Tiges didn’t wilt. I saw the superb skills of Dyson Heppel: a player I couldn’t really appreciate up until now. I saw the stoicism of Paul Chapman; the ingenuity of Goddard: two players who were perpetually on teams humiliating my, your, our Tiges. Tonight, not so. I see Goddard depart the field: frumpy and bad-tempered. His nose put out of joint with this team now in jeopardy of missing the finals.

Enough of them. Brett Deledio: let him be underrated never again. He is athlete, aesthete, footballer. Edwards: so light on his feet, adroit, lithe and balanced. Miles: the man is tenacious. Gordon: he came to the fore – not for long, but, when his moment came he was there; and he delivered. Griffiths: the MCG is your play thing.

But my moment of the match came a few seconds after Ivan had marked Ben’s long kick into the forward line during the game’s dying moments. Ivan lined up; the siren sounded –the crowd roared, roared, roared. And Ivan – did not blink. No smile, no relief, no nothing. The man was looking in between the goals: that is where I shall send the ball. And goal he did. No concentration lost by that booming projection announcing the Tiges as victors. Ivan the Maric. And the team swamped him.

This was a win for the Believers. Ivan believed in the Tiges when he no doubt told the Team that they could be better. Ivan believed that the Team could respond to criticism; to take it on board and then improve and improve some more. Ivan leads by example and the Team follows. This was the Beautiful Game.