I love Richmond

I love the Richmond Football Club.


It is a love that was born in a time when We were good, stayed constant when We weren’t and burns as brightly and as stubbornly as ever before in this time of beautiful, beautiful good-ness.


It is a love that was forged and then nurtured, a love that was moulded and landscaped, over time, over each trek to our Mecca, over each win, loss or tie.


It has been built in the colosseum at Jolimont, among the brethren of Us and the collective of Them. In that cauldron, everything is seen and felt in a hum, the hum that starts with a possession and a gather, space between Tiger and goal. A hum that signifies a colossal Something.


Possibility. Promise.


It is a love that held fast through school corridors decked in brown and gold stripes, navy and white hoops. It is a love that grudgingly stuck through heartbreak and loss, through failure and disappointment, numerous enough to run together and form an indistinguishable ball of Nothing, a Nothing that grew, grew, grew. A love that never seemed to be rewarded, that blossomed in posters on the wall, that was fed around necks and thrown over torsos and nestled on heads, but what was the point, what was the outcome.


But love is a powerful thing.


Love has weight.


A love that could be shared between those who were Us in the crowd, in the line, in the stands, in the aisles. A love bound by those who wore our Colours, our Emblem. Those who drove by Punt Road with wistful grin and craned neck, who shuddered as they passed their Sacred Turf, who found themselves at training with no purpose other to simply be with their people, with the roar that could gather and grow in a vacuum, to see their heroes and believe.


We walk past our Oval and are emboldened. We pull our scarves tighter, nestle into our duffels and hoodies and jumpers and jackets, adjust our beanies and hats and we say, “carn Tigs”.


“Carn the Tiggers.”


We raise our flags, our floggers. We clap and we cheer and we chant. We sing and we dance. We share our joy, our pain, and everything inbetween. We stride past our Temple, sights set on a grassy field and a set of light-towers. We hold our children, partners, Mums, Dads, Grandads and Grandmas and our mates close as we press on, over the rise, within sight of the place that we all hold so dear.


Because we love our Striped Marvels and what they are. They are emotional, loud and proud, over-the-top to the point of insanity and we love them for it.


It is a revolution, sure. It is a wildfire.


But it is football, and it is Richmond.


This is love.


And love, We decree, wins.



Read Smokie Dawson’s somewhat different perspective here.


  1. Mark 'Swish' Schwerdt says

    Some people go to extremes in this department, don’t they Paddy?

    John Carr (aka The Holy Boot) and son Richmond have been on the Media Six Way Highway this week – good on ’em.


  2. Paddy Grindlay says

    I think John’s got the right idea…

    All about love.

  3. Great words as ever, PG.

  4. I was tending my Father’s sheep one day,

    When a bush burst into flame.

    It burnt eternally;

    With an eternal Light.

    The Voice of Thunder followed.

    It told me that Punt Road was my Home

    And that I’d be a Tiger Forever.

    The Eternal Flame may dim

    But will always prevail.

    Now that is Love.

  5. Good on you, Paddy.

    Wrap – great to have you back at the Wrap Cave.
    A hot north wind blows hard through the Darling country.
    It’s a weekend for small forwards, punching from behind and mastering your set shots.

  6. Very well said, Paddy.
    Good luck tomorrow.

  7. Paddy, your love affair with Richmond comes from the nature of the love, I reckon.

    Sticking with the club while your beloved Tigers are struggling is the reflection of you having good efforts.

    Nice story mate!



  8. Phillip Dimitriadis says

    Good on you Paddy. Passion, love and yearning shines through. Good luck tomorrow night. Hope the Tigers at least make it to the big one.

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