stub1960

I honestly think that you forget who and what you represent. I know, having played and coached a lot of sport, teams and players over the years that we are each driven by different things. These days I know I am considered old school and I laugh at that when I think about what I considered to be old school and what today’s new-school thinkers might make of that! When I think old school I think about Ron Barrassi ruthlessly tearing shreds off one for the sake of all others – making a sacrifice of one to find something that will shake the rest into action. My old school is different. My old school is about passion. And I get that passion is old school. But unlike the Barrassi ruthless sprays that, like racist and misogynist behaviour, are now looked upon as inappropriate and from another time - passion is passion. Passion always lives on. When I think passion I think representation. When I was playing with passion - as weird as this will sound to you - I wasn’t playing for my team mates. Don’t get me wrong – I loved playing with them, I loved carrying them – them carrying me, I loved their support, I loved the laughs we had – but I wasn’t playing at the level on account of them. I was playing at the level because I had passion. There were times when I played against opposition that were far too good for me – players who were quicker, smarter, more skilful, more experienced and when I pitted myself against them it was always futile to simply draw on my skills, the support of my team mates or the strategies of a coach and expect that was going to be enough. There always had to be a reason to be in the fight, to take the blows, wear the bruises put up with the abuse. I had to be defending something, representing something, refusing to give up because of something. Passion! I would love to know how many want to know, be part of and take ownership of the heart of the club. I wonder who stops and asks about the volunteers who massage their legs, drink their water, clean their boots, feed them their stats, build their banners, wear their numbers. You think of them as something unfathomable, strange, inferior and sometimes pathetic. Have you ever taken the time to understand why they do it? Why do they do it? Why would anybody do that? To be close – to you? [censored] u have an ego! Guess what – long after your mediocre day job effort as a player has passed those same volunteers will be there holding on and still doing what they do. Still showing it. Passion! I watch you each game as a supporter. I watch the jumper run onto the ground and I run on with it. I run on in it. I run on with every supporter, every volunteer, every administrator, every coach. Every game. We all carry the passion, and the resilience, the determination and the desire that passion brings. And of all of the thousands that run out on the ground each game there are just 22 who can choose not to play with it. The rest of us have no choice. We always have it. We are unable to let it go. We just wish you - our 22 for the day - would care about it!