Orange and Black

I had a few big plastic tubs of stuff I had kept over the years, things I felt were important, memorabilia stuff and the like.  I decided that I had just a little too much and wanted to try and squeeze my 30-something years down to two tubs.  It was time for a cull.  One thing I stumbled upon was my Balmain Tigers jersey.  The sight of it immediately transported me back to Saturday night and Sunday afternoon games at Leichhardt Oval. 

I am not sure how my interest in the Footy started.  It must have just been a phase, all part of growing up, because I don't care for the sport at all now (although, a large reason why I have no interest now is because I have zero respect for the people that play and represent the game, which is a huge issue in itself).  I was 12, 13 maybe and I needed a team.  My Dad would be out on Saturday afternoons working in the garden or doing other jobs around the house and he always had his radio with him, and I remember from a very young age listening to The Continuous Call Team which he always had on during the Footy season.  I asked Dad what team I should follow.  He told me there was only one team, the Balmain Tigers, it was his team and he had been supporting them since he was a kid.  I suggested that we go to one of their games, the look on Dad's face was priceless.

Anyone familiar with parking in the Inner West of Sydney would know it was a nightmare.  And you needed to park in the back streets far away and join in the growing crowd of people making their way to the Oval.  Not us though, because Dad had a plan.  There was a mental hospital only a very short distance from the Oval and Dad would go there and tell them we were visiting a patient, they always let us in even though as time went by, I would be dressed up in all my orange and black gear.  We always got a park and only ever had a 5 minute walk to the Oval.  We sat on the Hill.  Back then the 'old school' grounds would have one side of the field without any official seating, but you would pay to sit on the Hill.  We brought a picnic blanket and sat on that to watch the games.  At the back of the Hill they set up a large TV screen, it was the very early days of the video ref and when that was called everyone on the Hill turned around to look at the screen and watch the instant replay.  If the call didn't go our way coipesous amounts of empty beer cans would be thrown at the screen.  How times have changed.

At Half Time, Dad would wander off to grab a beer along with most other people.  Everyone on the Hill would stand for a stretch and a chat, kids would run around and the cheerleaders would come out to perform.  I was a confused teenager trying to be a feminist and would yell out things to the cheerleaders.  Things like, other career options they could have taken instead of become sex objects for men.  Like I said, it was the awkward phase of my life where I thought I knew everything and really knew nothing at all.  Fortunately for me at half time, everyone around me had already had a few and found it highly amusing.  Although thinking about this now, I can't help but still cringe just a little bit.

If it was a big win or loss we left early to avoid the crowds, but if it was a close one we stayed until the end.  We were going a fair bit and I thought I should buy a jersey to really show my support.  I scrimped and saved for it and the first game of the first season the following year, I purchased it.  They only had one in my size and it was last years so he gave me a discount.  I was so happy.  Dad and I continued going to several games throughout the year, but the game was in trouble, it split in two and became a complete mess and in the end the Balmain Tigers ceased to exist, merging with the enemy, Wests Magpies.  That was it for me, I was done, I couldn't support the team anymore, because in my mind, it didn't exist.  Even the physical location of the game was moved with only a couple of matches to be play at Leichhardt.  I folded up my jersey and stashed it away, the football phase was over.

I am thankful I kept the jersey, I have it hanging up in the wardrobe of the spare room.  Not too sure what I will do with it, but perhaps one day when I have children of my own, I will wear it underneath a jacket on a cold wintery Saturday as we head off to a football game, creating new memories.