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This Sunday marks the 120th anniversary of Australia’s most famous sporting club. Unfortunately, Collingwood intends to celebrate it. As if supporters of other clubs haven’t had enough of hearing about Collingwood from its President.
As if they haven’t had it up to here (I’m indicating somewhere above the head) reading double-page spreads about what Collingwood has been up to over the pre season; sick to death of having to look at photos of its players in high altitude camp and high fashion sunglasses.
And now they’re going to have to hear the club banging away all season about its “proud culture, history and tradition,” as if no other club had them
I therefore sincerely apologise to everyone, perhaps even to myself, for giving it even more attention.
But the truth is, you can’t ignore it. The club was spawned, then thrived, in a suburb filled with the noxious fumes of its own industries and the run-off from its more affluent neighbours.
It was never going away.
The anniversary, strictly speaking, should have been in 2009, as the club was formed in 1889. But it took three years to gain entry into the VFA, the elite competition of the time.
One of the conditions for its admission, interestingly, was the upgrading of Victoria Park. Watching The Club (1980) recently it became apparent that hardly a thing had been done to the ground since.
As Roar contributor The Cattery put it: “The Pies had outgrown it [Victoria Park] by the time they lost the famous 1970 grand final, but the members were to hang on to their dung heap, stuck in the backstreets, amongst the shoe factories, for another 25+ years, guarding it jealously like the male magpies guard their nests in spring time.”
Belying its humble beginnings, Collingwood became famous for winning premierships, before becoming more famous for losing them.
In 1966 it lost by a point. In 1970 it lost after leading by seven goals. In 1977 it looked like it had won, then looked like it had lost, then drew it, and then lost it. It was beaten by less than a goal in 1979, and by more than thirteen the year after.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, it decided to end an era of sheer dread by losing in 1981 as well. Then, after a much needed rest, there was 2002 , 2003 and … last year.
I can only imagine the mental trauma sustained by the young fans forced to watch.
As a young supporter myself, I escaped the full impact of the 1977 – 1981 grand finals by riding my bike during them. I remember always noticing magpies on such rides; a good omen you would think.
There was the understandable joy of 1990 that induced a hangover in the playing group (literally too as it was still drunk when it arrived in London a week later for the exhibition match against the Bombers) that was eventually expunged when a new generation of players and an outsider by the name of Malthouse arrived.
Despite a grand final horror film reel that includes Barry Breen’s miskick dribbling inside the point post, Jesaulenko’s screamer (made worse by Mike Williamson’s “Jesaulenko, you beauty!”), Wayne Harmes’ boundary line dive, and Paul Licuria crying, the club has prospered.
To the annoyance of every other club, it is a true rags-to-riches story. Making matters worse, it exudes the arrogance of the wealthy while maintaining the martyred pose of the downtrodden.
“You can’t have everything!”, I hear you shout.
Oh yes you can. It has long since moved from its spiritual suburban home and is now luxuriating in the Westpac Centre right next door to the club of privilege, Melbourne.
In the words of its very corporate chief executive Gary Pert the club offers the players: “the quality, and amount of coaches, the resources, and facilities, the Arizona training camp and the brand and opportunities that can arise after your playing career finishes”.
But just when opposition supporters are thinking and hoping the club now sees itself as a sterile brand and has stopped using its past as motivation, President Eddie chimes in with: “Collingwood has a proud culture, history and tradition … when you join Collingwood you become part of a great family”.
To celebrate the anniversary the club has adopted the mentality of the founding members with the slogan: “It’s Us Against Them”, as if everyone hates them.
And I think everyone does.
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