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Out and Proud


hemingway

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It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

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10 minutes ago, Nicko said:

Beautiful hemingway 

Yep.  Beautiful hemingway 

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57 minutes ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

When I saw the thread title I thought you were coming out of the closet Hemingway 🤣

fantastic post by the way

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34 minutes ago, mauriesy said:

The adjectival tag "long-suffering" has also been removed from the front of "Melbourne supporter", and I'm very happy with that! That tag now belongs to others.

RAMS?

Recently Arrogant Melbourne Supporters.

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17 hours ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

I didn't get to the game on Wednesday night but had very similar feelings about being kitted out in Melbourne gear on my way to the station for our premiership celebration at the "G" in early December.
Getting closer to the station there they were walking the pavements headed in the same direction as me.
The Melbourne faithful out and proud.
I fit right in.

Also loved seeing all the kids.
Future members to ensure our future existence. 

 

Edited by Fork 'em
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17 hours ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

Magnificently written! You chose your username wisely when registering here.

However, I have one suggestion. While ‘Out and Proud’ accurately reflects what you were feeling, a much more appropriate title for this thread surely would have been ‘The Old Man and the ‘G’. 😉

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Absolutely sensational Ernie, I also had tears at the MCG, thinking of my Dad who would pick me up from school and take me to training at the G.  He would have been so bloody proud of the MFC and the way they have turned everything around.  Its great to be able to experience the highs of being important again.

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57 minutes ago, Supreme_Demon said:

A great post!

It is definitely a fantastic feeling to be able to wear my Melbourne Demons merchandise almost every day since winning the 2021 AFL Premiership!

The more loud and proud Demons supporters out there the better!

 

Go Demons! 🔴🔵👹

Wearing it most days (I did prior to but more like an ironic Brunswick hipster way) AND giving other Dees supporters the Go Dees or the knowing smile and a wink (has put me in trouble with my wonderful wife a few times!).

Edited by Cards13
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18 hours ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

jaisus ernie, you gave me a shock when i saw the heading.

thought you were announcing your coming out of the closet

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18 hours ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

I loved that post H reminded me of my three girls on Footy days at school they were the only ones proudly wearing the Dees colours, we were all at the G on Wednesday night in our colours and my grandson was wearing his Premiership jumper with number 5 on his back. It is great time to be a Demon again.!!!!

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I quite enjoy watching football. I find it very calm.

Our game was great. Our depth got a little try-out and they did just fine. I feel good.

I enjoyed Richmond losing and I even enjoyed Carlton winning, because of the way you could feel the Blues supporters not quite believing it, not quite accepting that they were in control, and needing every last second to tick down.

I feel good in the presence of football. It's like having a noisy and slightly crazy pet.

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17 hours ago, hemingway said:

It takes a lot for Ernie to be moved, to become emotional. 

Well it happened last night.

i took a country train to Spencer Street. A few stragglers but no one like I on a mission, a pilgrimage. No scarfs, no jumpers, no colours. To the point that  I was thinking of hiding my antique scarf in my dilly bag. 

This changed upon arrival at Spencer Street. The ghosts of the past were emerging from every road, intersection, from every direction. Risen from the dead in colours of red and blue. Old men, middle aged men and women, families with kids. Yes, kids. All decked out in jumpers, T shirts, and garments stating that the MFC were premiers. No embarrassment, no modesty, but out and proud. There was a feeling of invincibility , of a new dawn, a pride, a feeling that it all mattered. We were all marching together, with comments like “nice T shirt” and the ever present” go Dees”. Were there any Dogs fans? They were hard to see as they crept along in a way that suggested loyalty rather than celebration or revenge. Like going to a funeral. 

Still the awakening that yes we were Premiers. God, we felt proud. But the kid made me cry. Expectant and joyous in their gear, their flags, their face paint. Sharing with Mum and Dad their happiness and excitement. 

That for thousands of people this mattered. Not quite life and death but close to it. 

Arrived at the ground. Initially disappointment on the turnout. Was this going to be a huge flop. No one present for the unfurling of the flag. 

Then the multitude arrived, the stands filled and expectation built. 

This was a religious experience. Well at least spiritual. It did matter. Fans of all ages, gender, race and type were connected and joined together in a mass homage to this club, it’s past and present players, coaches and the special place it held in our hearts. And we were all connected. 

Did we expect to see a flag in our lifetime? 

In most cases, no. 

We sat and watched a confident young group of men that had created their own history. A group that had arrived. Started like a dream. A period of indecision and Dog fightback. 

Did we think we were gone ? Did we have the heart sink of past decades ? I don’t think so. We felt that they would come back and when they did, we expected it. That’s our boys. Our Demons. Our joy. 

Thank you to this Club for restoring our faith. To make the past pain evaporate. To feel that it had all been worth it. 

Whether the success is long lived or not, we have been to the holy grail and feel saturated with the joy of its attainment. And for the future. 

 

 

And I also believe we are truly starting a new life for plenty of Demons  families and kids especially.

They are not worried about our 57 years barren flag drought only that we are winners now and of course they know that we have the most watchable players in full flight in the competition. 

They put their  jumper on and  Mum and Dad bring them to the game which after all is lots of fun. 

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43 minutes ago, hemingway said:

Well Daisy that would be ok. No?

not when you've been dead for 60 years ernie, even more than the demons (previous) last flag

that would have been the literary sensation of the decade 

Edited by daisycutter
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