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I dont read forums from other sides. Is this sort of bagging directed to other clubs common? I dont really feel that we attack other clubs and their supporters as much as this. (We mostly attack our own). To me it seems a bit sad.

Looking forward to a ripper game. Can't wait for the Frawley Reiwoldt contest. I reckon Chip has had his measure mostly, but it is going to be a good match up on Saturday, and into the future.

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I have a little respect for Richmond fans. They might be feral, but 30+ years of complete and utter [censored] hasn't stopped them from attending games. They are very passionate. Can't fault them for that.

True. And they've got a great theme song. Other than that, I just love our team beating them. This week as an away game would be a good time for the boys to try and make it two in a row and set this rollercoaster straight.

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I dont read forums from other sides. Is this sort of bagging directed to other clubs common? I dont really feel that we attack other clubs and their supporters as much as this. (We mostly attack our own). To me it seems a bit sad.

Looking forward to a ripper game. Can't wait for the Frawley Reiwoldt contest. I reckon Chip has had his measure mostly, but it is going to be a good match up on Saturday, and into the future.

Let's hope Chip towels him up like last year.

Edited by DeeTermination
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I don't know what makes them so angry. :)

Following a team that has spent thirty years being beaten from pillar to post probably wouldn't help your demeanour.

Look how depressed we are and we've been in finals galore during that time...

But in the interests of abusing opposition players I hope one of ours cleans up Ben Nason for that stupid haircut he used to sport. Don't care he's not playing, just get him in the stands. Juice, I am assigning you this job.

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Tiger fans seem to have this obsession with proving how much better Martin is than Trengove/Scully. Easily the most insecure supporters who jump on and off the band wagon quicker than anyone.

Kangas fans say hi... :D

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Re: Tigers vs Demons game thread

« Reply #10 on: Yesterday at 10:02:31 PM »

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quote from: tony_montana on Yesterday at 04:57:24 PM

Please just [censored] these guys - Dont know what it is but i have a real dislike for this team that likes to play bruise free footy.

I agree tony_ montana. These guys remind me of teachers pets I used to remember at school. Would dob you in at the drop of a hat smiling while doing so but they had skeletons in the closet of their own and you took more than great pleasure in dishing it out to them in return. To me Melbourne Footy Club is the type of kid you always wanted to beat up because they did nothing until they played you and then they were nice and fired up. Just like their supporters they belong to a bygone era. Beat these ski chalet freaks.

Jack Watts is that kid. Dopey smile, geeky looking and just waiting to get his fragile body bruised just like his skipper Brad clench my jumper when we are 90 points up. I would love Lukey to do what he did to Farren Ray to the former and make sure that little crapola doesn't get up for a few minutes.

I don't know what makes them so angry. :)

This Tiger post should be sent into Jimmy & CS for all the club to read...That is just soo good.

I will be there loud and proud this saturday.

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I think Richmond supporters, not all but in general, are one of the fairest bunch i've witnessed and experienced at the footy.

Like all teams, including us, they have fair ones, feral ones, crazy passionate types and band wagon jumpers (and yes, plenty of females, including wives who are in some cases more passionate than the blokes, and whole family followers...and many who love to go skiing!!).

I've got a good mate who follows em week in, week out. And i'm talking regular match attendance/membership every year not just a follower, like many of those Blues' supporters (at least up until last year anyway....yeh that's my stereotype for Blues' supporters...pretend they support em like they're members but when you dig deeper, they aren't lol).

He loves em and hates em with a passion. I've been with him to many Demon/Tiger matches, including away games sitting/standing in amongst/behind the enemy, and let me tell ya, i've seen worse supporter groups generally than Richmond's. Yes, they've got their odd ugly knucklehead supporters, so have we, but nothing like what i've experienced with Bumbers, Dawks and Pies. Much more arrogance amongst these 3 given their recent history of success. And one of the worst groups i've had behind me ever during a match (and this was a final) was Saints supporters. Generally found em ok, but the group i witnessed this particular day was the worst ever lol.

I remember going to the final Fitzroy game here at the G (final game in Vic) with me Tiger mate for the send off in 1996. And what a send off the Tiger supporters gave em (as well as other club's supporters of course). My 2nd team and i followed them as a toddler before i turned to the Demons. So i had a bit of a soft spot.

When the Fitzroy song came on pre match the majority of the crowd (from what i can recall) stood up and sang their fab song as one. One of the most emotional moments i can recall at the footy. One thing i do remember that day was how loose/slack i thought Martin Pike was that day and maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have traded him in the end. How wrong he was going to prove me in years to come lol.

I sat with my Tiger mate in the members and I swear many of the Tiger supporters were happy to sit on the fence, half wishing the Roys would get up or at least put up a decent show. Albeit this was very early on in the game and once it ended up looking like the Roy boys were on the road to a belting, without much fight, they soon found voice for their own.

Many Tiger supporters have done it tough too gang. I've found they aren't so arrogant as you might think. Angry, frustrated and [censored] at their efforts over past years sure (ring a bell lol?), but most aren't like the ones we read in the sneak posts on here, from what i've experienced anyway. Unless there's been a change in the last 6 - 8 months maybe that i have yet to witness. I'm going on Saturday night so i'll let you know if there's been a change lol.

Also, this BS 'Silvertail' myth about our supporters may have been relevant pre 1980 when we were owned by the MCC. But not any more. It's a dumbass label portrayed and stereotyped week after week by 'the coulda beens' many decades ago, which was then carried over and grew legs through other ignorant mis-informed smart ass commentators.

Success breeds success. And with a lack of success over many decades now, the MFC boasts more than its fair share of battlers and blue collar workers (me being one of them). I sat next to two of the toughest of em in Karen & her mate (i forget her mate's name...sorry!) at the G against the Bumbers 3 weeks ago. They were from Pakenham and Werribee. Hardly well to do burbs! 25+ years support/membership, and tough as nails!

Some of the wealthiest/well to do clubs, and hence supporters, are those that have had success over many decades. These are the new silvertails of the AFL. We do have our share, don't get me wrong, especially at board/committee level no doubt (where the big money and bean counters thrive and are much needed in order to attract appropriate sponsors and have their roots in/with the MCC etc). But nothing like the well to do clubs, such as Essendon, Collingwood and Hawthorn at the grass roots level. Check out the stickers/car rego's on the Beamers and Audi's etc next time you're out and about. You'll find most of them are Bumbers/Hawks/Pies supporters and they're certainly not suffering under the weight of a heap of struggling 'blue collar' only supporters! More likely accountants, lawyers and big business knobs!

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Haha yeh I'll pay that.

Difference is, if Tigers win a few games, they'll get 40k+ in the stands against a side like Freo and start talking finals!!

Yeah. True that.

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Don't be fooled Rusty Nails , there is an underlying arrogance in dem Tiger fans .

Sure they've had the edge taken off them during the many lean years but make no mistake it's there and not far from the surface .

They still consider themselves 1 of the Big4 remember , a sleeping giant .

Even at the 1st Richmond game last year I found myself next to several who were relentless in their bagging of our club , our players , supporters , pathetic cheer squad you name it .

After a while I couldn't help myself , lean't over and reminded them they followed Richmond , RICHMOND FFS .

Quietened them down nicely it did and I happily kicked back and watched us [censored] 'em . B)

If the Toigs keep progressing , they won't be humble for long .

We as a club need to keep landing psycological blows on them now .

Don't let 'em get their tails up when they meet us .

Edited by Fork 'em
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Didn't you know they did that? Very passionate are Richmond supporters. Mind you, their bygone era is stretching out almost as long as ours. No premiership since 1981 and few finals appearances compared with us. Nice Jack Dyer statue outside their club: circa 1945.

For the sake of accuracy its two finals appearances since 1982. I think in 1995?

No wonder they're a bit anxious!

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My neighbours are Tigers fans and the past two years that we have played them we have gone, except for J Macmahon's goal after the siren, thank you by the way. Every time we play them they reckon that they're gonna smash us and they get all cocky when they get a small run on. Singing the song after the game in round 4 last year was bliss. The look on the their faces was a pissa, one of complete and utter shame. As bad as Richmond may have been over the past 30 years, they still have that cocky thought of the big 4 in the back of their minds. Quietly cocky supporters is a good summation!!

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Guest Artie Bucco

Looks like it's time to pull out my favourite football fact.

Drumroll please...

Since 1983 Fitzroy has made the finals more times than Richmond.

Every year, still being able to whip this one out just gets sweeter and sweeter...

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Re: Tigers vs Demons game thread

« Reply #10 on: Yesterday at 10:02:31 PM »

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quote from: tony_montana on Yesterday at 04:57:24 PM

Please just [censored] these guys - Dont know what it is but i have a real dislike for this team that likes to play bruise free footy.

I agree tony_ montana. These guys remind me of teachers pets I used to remember at school. Would dob you in at the drop of a hat smiling while doing so but they had skeletons in the closet of their own and you took more than great pleasure in dishing it out to them in return. To me Melbourne Footy Club is the type of kid you always wanted to beat up because they did nothing until they played you and then they were nice and fired up. Just like their supporters they belong to a bygone era. Beat these ski chalet freaks.

Jack Watts is that kid. Dopey smile, geeky looking and just waiting to get his fragile body bruised just like his skipper Brad clench my jumper when we are 90 points up. I would love Lukey to do what he did to Farren Ray to the former and make sure that little crapola doesn't get up for a few minutes.

I don't know what makes them so angry. :)

The only thing worse than people talking about you is people not talking about you at all. I suggest we not talk about Richmond - a studied indifference is the best form of contempt.

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“At the heart of every Richmond supporter there lies a streak of self-loathing – that is why they turn on each other like wild animals.”

This ex-cathedra maxim was ringing in my ears as I logged off from PuntRoadEnd.com, where I am an agent provocateur (and this is true). One of life’s simple pleasures is pretending to be a (rabid) Richmond supporter, the aim being to throw petrol onto the fire and then stand back in awe to behold the conflagration.

Anyway, I was feeling rather pleased with myself when an SMS came through from Deestroy.

“Biff, stop being so bloody smug! Your challenge this week, should you chose to accept it, is to infiltrate the Richmond Grog Squad – the mob who congregate behind the Punt Road goals and sing various dirges as the Tigers (sic) take it up the arse on the field. Your mission: create havoc. Bonus points if you shag Big Shazza, the Queen of the Richmond ferals.”

I accepted the mission on the spot. That left six days of preparation. I bought an old duffel coat from the Opp Shop. Soon afterwards, I purchased a number ‘8’ from Spotlight which I half-stitched onto its back. There was some junk mail in the letterbox that featured a pest control company. I cut out the word ‘Cockroach’, sticky-taped it to the back of the duffel coat and then (lightly) scribbled out the first four letters. Once done, I let the mutt sleep on it for the remainder of the week. I stopped having showers. Eschewing toothpaste, I brushed my teeth in coca-cola. I became a stranger to dunny paper, underpants and razors. It was out with the Mozart and in with the hard rockin’ pub songs and the High Art of Jimmy Barnes. Much to my wife’s anguish, I staged a few domestics which necessitated a visit from the Cop Shop. Come Saturday morning, I was ready. My own self-loathing was in floodtide. Come on the Tiges!

Now Richmond were playing the Dees. My first stop was the Cricketer’s Arms on Punt Road. It was midday. I barged through the front door and shouted hoarsely, “Who thinks Dusty Brownlow Martin is a ****ing deadset legend, eh?” I was immediately befriended by five bona fide members of the Richmond Grog Squad: Shane from Scoresby; Wayne from Wantirna; Mike from Moe; Rob from Rowville and Karen from Cardinia. Collectively, they held down one part-time job between them. Rob was an inveterate scratcher: he warranted a flea-bomb. Mike, who had a squint, had travelled all the way from the West Moe Caravan Park to support the ‘Mighty Tigers’ – a Pilgrim’s Progress indeed. Shane & Wayne looked as if they were born to play the roles of Banquo’s killers in Macbeth:

“I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Have so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world. . . . . And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, That I would set my lie on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on't.”

The less said about Karen the better, lest cycling metaphors be invoked.

Now the quintet was thoroughly intoxicated; the cans of UDLs that were strewn at their feet bore testimony to their liquor of choice. We were all in agreement: whoever barracked for the Dees was a poofta and Jacky Watts was a tranny at best. The remaining hour or so was spent betting on the Warragul dogs or baiting other Richmond supporters at the bar. Twice I had to avert a cat-fight between Karen and another Richmond slag. It was boob-on-boob action in every sense.

Come 1.30, it was time to lurch over to the ‘G. With the assistance of some healthcare cards – thoroughly fake - we trooped through the gates with little damage to our pockets. Karen had stashed a few cans of UDLs down her blouse; given the aesthetics, they were safer than the gold in Fort Knox. Once inside, we spotted one of the Bay’s most prominent Richmond supporters, Buddha Bing, primly making his way towards the Amway Superbox. He was a sallow looking guy. Hair-gel was trickling down his forehead like sweat. He was also wearing one of his famous Roger David reversible suits with an elastic tie. Sure, he barracked for the Tigers, but to the quintet he was an ideological enemy in a cheap pair of shoes. In no uncertain terms, Mike informed him that he was a ****ing goose – Richmond or no Richmond, only toffs sat in a superbox. And Buddha Bing had better stop trying to foist the Amway soap-powder on his old dear back in West Moe, no less.

It took us ten minutes or so to hobble our way over to the Punt Road end of the ground. In doing so, we profusely abused the opposition supporters that came our way – any buccaneer on the Spanish Main would have been shocked by their language but it was par for the course here. Additionally the spittle was a’flyin’. Ditties proclaiming the heroism of Richo or Dusty Martin were coined on the spot. To evade detection, I breathed incessantly through my mouth, made strange animal noises and walked with a limp. Our destination was at hand: the Richmond Grog Squad. The quintet introduced me to their peers. I was promptly accepted as one of their own, particularly when I screeched out: “Scully and Trengove ain’t worth a bum hair on Dusty’s ring!” Much like the Black Hole that lies at the heart of our own Milky Way, I could sense the presence of Big Shazza, but for the moment, a phalanx of uber-bogans stood between the two of us.

The game started not long afterwards. True to form, Richmond started to take it up the arse. The on-field debacle did not bother the Grog Squad who sang on regardless. It was time to initiate my mission. As it so happens, I am no mean ventriloquist. I targeted a particularly virulent section of the Grog Squad and let fly with the following

“Dustin Martin’s tatts are fake. He got ‘em from Cornflakes packet. His mummy rubbed a ‘em on with a twenty cent piece.”

A brawl erupted spontaneously. Haymakers were legion. A few unfortunates were kicked as they lay on the ground. The police soon waded in and nabbed the participants, much to the delight of the remaining members of the Grog Squad who sang the usual refrain.

Good but not great I thought to myself. I turned to another section and pitched:

“Chris Newman is more of a Western Star job than Joel Bowden. He’s as useless as a condom on a dog.”

Another brawl erupted, It was more vicious than the first. Minutes later, the main antagonists were hauled away by the constabulary. Stretchers were used to carry off the worst of the casualties. The ranks of the Grog Squad had thinned, but not to the point where I could readily approach Queen Shazza at the epicentre. It was time, therefore, to drop the P-bomb, however untrue it was:

“There won’t be any father-sons from Richo – he’s too busy hanging around the dunnies at the Robert Peel Hotel. ‘Fleet’s in, time to sin’ is his motto!”

Another fight erupted. The Colosseum itself never viewed brutality of this kind. Not even Leigh Matthews would countenance the king-hits from behind that were being dished out like lolly water. Tannin-stained teeth clattered to the ground. The mist of brain matter saturated the air. Some of the Richmond wenches disappeared into the affray, only to emerge seconds later with big clumps of pubic hair in their hands. The Fight Club re-enactment lasted some five minutes or so, leaving the Grog Squad decimated but undaunted. Accordingly, I pushed my way towards the centre. And there, enthroned in her bogan glory, sat Queen Shazza on a bean bag.

In the universe, matter is counter-balanced by anti-matter. As I beheld this anti-regal figure, I realised that she too, in a feral sort of way, was the antithesis to Queen Elizabeth I as portrayed in the famous Armada Portrait. Each one of her monstrous thighs could have been sponsored by Samboy Chips. There was no bra in existence that had the tensile strength to uphold her gigantic mammary glands – nay, bovine udders. Nicotine patches had been attached to her nipples for whatever mad reason. Her skin was covered in blotches, acme and self inflicted scratch marks. Intrepid though I was, I dared not look below her navel to the Valley of the Werewolf. Verily, Queen Shazza was regnant over all that she surveyed. She did not need to see the game itself – she was randomly screeching out imprecations at the opposition as she sipped away on a UDL.

“Queen Shazza – so we meet at last. The circle is now complete. The Self-Loathing is with You!”

She flicked a toxic glance at me.

“What do youse want? I aint gonna suck your dick if that’s what youse wants. I aints no slag!”

I looked at her more deeply. It was not hard to foresee that one day she would drown on her own vomit or be smothered to death by one of her own boobs. Even so, the image of the Oracle from the Matrix flashed into my mind. Perhaps there was an affinity to be explored.

“Shazza, will the Tigers ever come good?”

She looked darkly into her can of UDL. The wellspring was dry. She threw it away and started to spit on herself, Richmond-style.

“The Toiges are always gonna be [censored]. [censored] – [censored] – [censored]!”

I then realised that the second of Deestroy’s challenges was a ‘Bridge too Far.’ Assuming my hydraulics were sound – an advocate of fat sex I ain’t – I had neglected to bring along a miner’s lamp, rope, and grappling hooks, the second assumption being that the target-area could be safely identified. Failure was mine. It was time to flee from her august presence. Like one of her courtiers, I spat on the ground, adjust my crotch and croaked out:

“See’s ya down at the pokies, Big Girl.”

Stupefied by the grog, she vomited all over herself and gave me a thumps up.

I rejoined the mob. Sylvia, who loves to play against the Yellow and Black, was running amok. Towards the end of the match, sadness overcame me. Standing with the Richmond Grog Squad would make anyone rethink their position on eugenics. Each of its members – indubitably - is a downpipe for DNA of the most degraded kind. Erroneous or otherwise, there is a belief that Man was created in the image and likeness of God. As I encompassed the mob around me – Come on the Mighty Tiges – this viewpoint was entirely redundant. It was the Triumph not of the Will, but of the Swineherd.

The match came to a dreary end. Much to everyone’s relief, the siren sounded. Wretches one and all, the Richmond players hobbled off. Sure they wore the same jumpers as players such as Captain Blood, Royce Hart and Hungry, but the comparison went no deeper. This was no Gotterdammerung – the Twilight of the Gods, it resembled, rather, a Requiem for the Pullets. Befittingly, the Grog Squad sang a dirge. Other than a surreptitious vomit on the Moe-bound V-Liner, there was nothing to look forward to. I quietly slipped away. Once home. I washed the Richmond excrement off my personage, apologised to my wife and regained my humanity.

The World will hold its breath. Dees by 10 points.

Biffinator.

Yeah well I hope youse all get stuck in an ash cloud as youse descend form the snow fields. Cop that

you demon pooheads can't bully me! i'll get my dad to beat you up and then i'll get my dad to beat up your dad so he can't beat me up cos my dad is stronger than your dad nerr!

Most of the rest is hurr we can't post cos we'll get carded.

Edited by Striker475
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Don't be fooled Rusty Nails , there is an underlying arrogance in dem Tiger fans .

Sure they've had the edge taken off them during the many lean years but make no mistake it's there and not far from the surface .

They still consider themselves 1 of the Big4 remember , a sleeping giant ......

Fair enough Fork. I've made a mental note mate. I guess it's a random outcome sometimes, depending on where you sit/stand on the day and who's about/who you're with. I had a pretty tough/feral upbringing myself in my early days so maybe i just don't notice the knuckleheads behaving so badly as some others might.

Anyways, i'll try and take more notice this time around. That's if i leave the ground alive! :lol:

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