Why Wests Tigers feel haunted by the future

In an effort to drum up attendance, Wests Tigers have allocated a specific theme to every home game this season.

Some of these, such as Indigenous Round, have been drawn from wider initiatives in the NRL.

Many of them, however, are specific to the Tigers’ push to build more of a sense of community and family around its venues.

In the light of Mike Baird’s efforts to centralise and rationalise rugby league in Sydney, the Tigers’ efforts take on a certain bittersweetness.

A team with venues like Leichhardt Oval and Campbelltown Oval shouldn’t have to add extra incentives for attendees.

Given how much the Tigers have struggled over the last eighteen months, as well as their terrible run this season – Saturday’s loss to the Raiders was utterly heartbreaking – it’s sad to think that they can’t even rely on home games for adequate support.

I was at the clash against the Storm at Leichhardt last week and it certainly didn’t have the rousing atmosphere of a home match.

Sure, the weather was bad, but even that couldn’t explain the lacklustre atmosphere in the air.

Given that the Tigers had come down with such a crashing victory over the Sea Eagles at Leichhardt earlier in the year, there was a lot hanging on their Inner West home ground last Sunday.

In effect, Leichhardt Oval had to deliver as much as the team itself.

Yet with growing uncertainty about the future of local venues, there was a sense that the glory days of Leichhardt might be behind us.

Sometimes, in footy, a team performs so badly that the fans’ anger is palpable.

During the Good Friday clash between the Rabbitohs and the Bulldogs, I accidentally booked seats in the Souths home area. As the Bunnies failed to deliver, you could feel the resentment mounting.

At Leichhardt last weekend, however, it was worse than just seeing angry fans.

Instead, here were fans desperately wanting to believe – in both the team and the venue – but unable to fully summon the energy.

Even the recent unveiling of the Wayne Pearce Hill felt like a last gasp for Leichhardt.

The fact that Mitchell Pearce was in the crowd should have made the connection to the past feel stronger but instead it just reminded you how much more of a role model Pearce Sr was when he put on the jersey.

As a result, it felt appropriate – but also bittersweet – that last weekend was also 80s Week for the Tigers.

As a footy legend whose tenure at the Tigers – 1980-1990 – coincided exactly with the decade, Wayne Pearce’s influence over the club and the game felt very palpable.

At the same time, there was an overwhelming sense of nostalgia in the air.

Nostalgia for a time when live attendance was more common.

Nostalgia for a time when small suburban grounds were the heart and soul of rugby league.

Nostalgia for a time when the Tigers felt completely embedded in Balmain culture.

Compared to the 1980s, the boys in orange and black feel positively homeless.

Caught between two local grounds that could be phased out in ten years and one giant stadium that’s shared with some of their bitterest rivals, they don’t even have a proper Leagues club to their name.

In fact, the only place they really feel at home is on the footy field.

There was something about 80s Week, then, that captured every Tigers fan yearning for a better time.

While footy can be tough, aggressive and brutal, it also has its soulful moments, and last weekend was one of them.

To me, James Tedesco is one of the most soulful players in the game, partly because of the slew of injuries and setbacks he’s had to navigate, and he felt more like the face of the Tiges than ever last weekend, especially with Aaron Woods down for the count.

Speaking of Woodsy, it was a cruel irony that the team’s biggest 80s throwback couldn’t get behind the Steeden for this particular round.

In film and music criticism, I’ve noticed that the word ‘hauntological’ is often used to refer to the way in which we tend to be haunted by lost futures, futures that never come to pass.

When Tina Turner was beamed up to the screens for a ghostly rendition of Simply the Best at half-time, the hauntological mood of the afternoon felt complete.

Far from simply celebrating the past, 80s Week at Leichhardt seemed to – perhaps inadvertently – remind us of the future that always seems to be eluding this most mercurial of teams.

With the Raiders multiplying their score by a factor of ten at GIO on Friday night, it’s rough times ahead for the boys from Balmain and Campbelltown.

Now, more than ever, it’s important for them to remember their heritage and to draw sustenance from it.