Roosistence Roominisces

Remove this Banner Ad

First off, sorry it has taken me so f'ing long to write this. I have no excuse. I am a lazy person.

If it's any consolation (and when you consider my posting, it should be), I put a self-imposed New Years ban on myself from posting on Bigfooty until I finished it.

Secondly, before I launch in on this, a few disclaimers...

Disclaimer #1 - The following is all drawn from my hopelessly-flawed memory. I haven't looked up any old threads or any articles from the time. Because that would involve actual, like, effort. So there may be numerous factual errors, for which I apologise in advance.

Disclaimer #2 - This is a reflection on putting the Roosistence gig together, and as such I haven't included any background on the events of 2007. If they are unfamiliar to you, I suggest you do some catching up. And a couple of paragraphs from me sure as hell won't cure what ails ya.

Disclaimer #3 - I can't write for s**t. So apologies in advance for that, also.

Now on with the show...



ROOQUIEM FOR A TEAM


Small mercies. If Paul Kelly had played Roosistence I may have been severely tempted to start this story by wheeling out the old “from little things...” line. And no-one needs that. But alas, a desperately unlucky scheduling conflict rained on that parade. Tim did indeed contact Paul...err, Mr. Kelly....and sound him out when we were putting the bill together, and he was very keen to be a part of the benefit, but when his management realised that it meant he’d be playing two nights in a row at the Prince, they pulled the pin on the non-paying, more recently arranged date. i.e. Roosistence.

Not sure the “big things” shoe fits anyway. More "medium-sized", although it's partly accurate - you certainly don’t get much “littler” than my brain. But for better or worse, that’s where the Roosistence gig began. Beginnings just don’t get much humbler. And it certainly wasn’t an idea that I mulled over at any great length. Well, not in the cerebral fashion anyway. And if it even bears mentioning, no thought was given to logistics, costing, or plausibility. None of that boring stuff.

From memory, I had only discussed the idea with one other person prior to approaching Tim – that being (the poster formerly known as) The Zebra. Fortunately, he was exceptionally enthusiastic about it, and for that he is owed a major debt of gratitude. If he’d poo-pooed the whole thing by pointing out some kind of bus-sized hole in my plans, then it’s entirely fair to say that I would have probably ditched the idea right there and then. But he was all over it, which gave me the confidence to go ahead and contact Tim. So all I can say is thanks Zebs. (Hopefully kelman will pass this on to him.) And I’d also like to add that market research groups of one are incredibly underrated.

So I PM’ed Tim. In those dark days he was a fairly regular frequenter of the forum, desperate for info on the lay of the land just like the rest of us. He didn’t post much, but I’d often notice his username online. And a few nights later when I saw that he was around, I sent him a message. I’d never spoken to him previously, so I was not only surprised to get an almost instantaneous reply, but one that said something along the lines of “let’s do it!” Even more surprising was the fact that this reply sounded scarily inclusive. Last time I checked “let’s” was the abbreviation of “let us”. “Us” as in “we”. Naturally, I was expecting him to be the one to run with this. Well, actually, I was expecting him to give me a quick “yeah, nah”, but if by some slim chance the idea actually had some merit, I expected I’d be handing that sucker over to him like a molten baton in a twisted Japanese game show relay. Clarification was required, and subsequently sought. As it happens, his use of the inclusive pronoun was entirely intentional. Goddamn. What had I just got myself into?

I think it was roughly around this time that I entered a state of ‘sustained freakout’ that lasted for the next 6 or 7 weeks. I’m not the type to gaze at a gift horse’s pie-hole, so I never asked Tim why he wanted me to be a partner in this endeavour. I can only assume it was to give the whole shebang a bit of a grassroots feel, but that would only be a guess. Likewise, I never asked him why he was so swift and unequivocal in his affirmative reply. To me, it almost seemed like he had contemplated the thought himself, at least in some capacity, and he was just waiting for something or someone to come along and ignite the spark. Who knows, but let’s just say that I reckon my timing may have been pretty sweet. By that stage of the year – some time around early October – the drums of relocation had become deafening. It was definitely the hour to start kicking against the pricks.

And just like that, the Roosistence gig was born. And to his immense credit, from that moment on Tim treated me as an equal in all decisions that were made regarding the show. He had little need to do so, particularly given his immense experience in putting together gigs.....compared with mine, which basically amounted to once arranging a few dates at the Arthouse for a mate’s punk band. But I have to say, with the exception of a couple of executive line-up decisions that were made in the interests of ‘seizing the moment’ so to speak, Tim duly consulted me, and sought my approval, every step of the way. For that, he has nothing but my eternal respect.

The evening following our PM discussion, I went over to Tim’s place to try to nail down some of the details. He greeted me warmly, almost like an old friend, and I was immediately put at ease. Like anyone, Tim has his eccentricities, but he is an extremely down-to-earth person at heart. I also recall that he had The Liquor Giants cranking on the stereo, which I took to be a very good omen. Totally love that band. So after we were done discussing the brilliance of Ward Dotson and his cohorts, and Tim had fielded some obligatory fan-boy questions from yours truly, we got down to business over a cold ale or two. What followed over the next few hours was basically Tim flicking through the phone book on his mobile phone, while I threw out random suggestions of bands and musos that I thought were a good fit for the gig. Hopefully ones starting with a letter of the alphabet that Tim hadn’t got up to in his phone yet. Just so I could appear vaguely useful.

For the most part, the names I mentioned were positively received. Only once did I mention a name that didn’t go down too well. For obvious reasons I won’t go into the details of this rather awkward moment, but it appears there was some history there. I had to spend the next 5 minutes doing some fast talking to redeem myself, but from memory that was the only real speedhump in the evening’s proceedings. In fact, it went like a breeze.

We quickly managed to bed down a basic timeline and then, miraculously, snare a venue. An iconic, kick-ass venue, to be exact. In a coup of pretty epic proportions, Tim was able to leverage off his friendship with the owners of the Prince Of Wales, who generously offered up the place free of charge. That alone almost ensured the success of the evening. The Prince is a legendary pub, and its pulling power on any given night cannot be underestimated. It meant that this wasn’t going to be reduced to some pissant thing that would slip through the cracks of public attention. It guaranteed Roosistence a profile, which was a really great start. And as you’d expect, we were over the moon about that.

Moreover, once a venue is booked, there’s no backing out. So it provided a great spur to keep pushing us forward. Obviously, the Prince were limited in the nights they were able to offer us at such short notice, but we managed to snare a free date that gave us just enough time to conceivably organise everything. While in hindsight the timing turned out to be perfect, back then it was merely part educated guess, part practicality.

So with the venue iced, we then turned our attention to putting the bill together. Rob Clarkson was the first person we rang. Or Tim rang. You know what I mean. (But, hey, he did put the call on speaker. Or maybe Rob just speaks so loud that it sounds like that. M’eh.) Either way, Rob loved the idea and, despite having moved to Sydney, he was very keen to be involved. He was kind of a natural first port of call for Tim. Both a North fan who’d been to many games with Tim, and a popular, long-standing fixture of the local indie music scene. His gigs at the (sadly-departed) Punters Club were Melbourne institutions. And to our delight, he jumped (hopped?) all over Roosistence.

Awesome - we were batting one-for-one after the first call !!

The next number we dialled was Mick Thomas. Unfortunately Mick wasn’t around, but this was no cause for any stress. Given his and the Weddoes long association with footy, and the well-documented love that his longtime sidekick Squeezebox Wally has for the North Melbourne Football Club, we knew Mick would want to be involved. A scheduling clash was going to be about the only thing that would prevent him from playing. Fortunately for us, he was free. Or he shuffled dates. Either way, Tim texted me the next day to let me know that Mick was ‘in’.

At some point during the evening Tim mentioned that he’d become friendly with the guys (and girl!) from Something For Kate. The drummer, Clint, part-owned a wine bar just down the road from Tim’s place and they’d become quite well acquainted. I must admit that I didn’t put much stock in it at the time. While they’d pretty much moved on from their early hipster beginnings to develop into a solid rock band with a more mainstream appeal, I didn’t think they’d be the types to go for it. Shows how much I know. Tim had called me within 24 hours to confirm that they too had signed on.

I think that first night saw us lock in Dallas Crane also...or part thereof, as it turned out. Again, Tim and You Am I have a long association with the Dallas Crane guys, and they also share the same management company. It made sense to have them play.

Tex and The Wrights came into frame a few days later. And of course news of both agreeing to play literally floored me. I still have trouble fathoming that all this really happened.

Bouncer on the other hand were...ummm...kind of an afterthought.

So fortunately for Tim and I – or more accurately, as a testament to Tim’s fantastic work – the line-up came together fairly swiftly and without a whole lot of hassle. There was the odd person who said they’d love to play but couldn’t (e.g. Paul Kelly), or people we had to wait a few days on to confirm. But for the most part, everyone’s scheduling planets aligned. (Destiny!) Despite only having a small window of time to put the bill together, things fell neatly into place.

And then the real work started...

From advertising the gig, to sorting out the ticketing, to producing the merchandise, to doing interviews, to organising the travel arrangements for the artists....and on....there was a huge amount of work to be done in a relatively short amount of time. I’d estimate that 80% of that work was done by Tim and his manager. The remaining 20% was not only enough to keep me flat out every day for the entire duration, but it also taught me that event management is not a career path I’ll be choosing any time soon. The stress levels and workload are through the freaking roof.

Every day I would have the mobile phone glued to my ear from 10am to 10pm. Phone call after phone call, email after email, discussion after discussion. I also clocked up a whole bunch of k’s making regular trips from my place in Diamond Creek down to Tim’s manager’s office in Fitzroy St. It was an extremely busy time. I’d talk to Tim pretty much every day, and sometimes I’d kind of almost forget that he was ‘Tim Rogers – lead singer of You Am I’, and just begin to see him as ‘Tim Rogers – the guy who I was organising the Roosistence gig with’. Then occasionally I’d get a jolt back into reality when I’d receive a text from him saying “just stepped off the stage in Townsville” or something similar. How he managed to fit everything in, I have no idea. But again his management were definitely a godsend in that regard, selflessly chipping in to do everything they could.


And then after a busy day of Roosistence-ing, every night I’d be on Bigfooty, going into battle against the pro-Gold Coast posters who while small in number, were extremely loud in voice. For those of you who weren’t around at the time, as you’d expect, a number of new, pro-GC accounts popped up at the time, and – surprise, surprise – the vast majority of these posters haven’t been spotted since. But they were a feisty bunch while active, and for a while there the forum resembled a war zone. (Okay...more of a war zone than usual.)


As the night drew ever closer, slowly but surely and with much hard graft, everything began coming together. And, hey, to be fair, not all the work was a chore. Far from it. I had the opportunity to chat to the Shinboner Of The Century a few times on the phone before the big night, which was a real highlight for a footy nerd like myself. There were other highs (the tickets selling out), and also some lows (MC Greg Fleet disappearing into the ether a few days before the gig...only to turn up in a state of health that immediately precluded him from being any chance to do the show). I’m just thankful that his name wasn’t on the posters. We sounded out Trevor Marmalade as a last-minute replacement. He declined but was good enough to agree to come along and say a few words. Thankfully local St Kilda icon (and character in Freddy Negro’s ‘Pub’ comic strip), Jason Evans, was able to step in at the 11th hour. He may not have been the slickest MC going around (and he doesn’t barrack for Norf), but he put his heart and soul into the task, and ended up doing a fine job all things considered.
 
THE PATH OF LEAST (AND MOST) ROOSISTENCE


As pharro has pointed out various times in the past, Roosistence were never a formal entity. And he’s right. We were just friends on the same page, occasionally pooling our talents. From memory, it was only with the naming of the gig that we decided to then put our activities under the ‘Roosistence’ banner, but even that sounds a little too organised for what we were doing.

I’d progressively met the others a few times over beers in the Captains Bar. (With the exception of Royal Blue who I’d met quite a bit earlier.) We hit it off and when the whole relocation clusterf**k first exploded, we all began to communicate a lot more. We shared whatever intelligence (either kind) that we had. And if nothing else, Roosistence always had top-shelf information.

Although this was never even remotely discussed, in the interests of clarity I’ll try to shine some light on the (imaginary) Roosistence org. structure. Employing the Bigfooty vernacular, the “inner scrotum” basically consisted of Lidge, Kangalicious, pharro, Northbhoy, Royal Blue (in absentia), and myself. And of course, Tim. I would also include Arden in that grou...errr, ballsack, as while he was somewhat inhibited in his input due to being located interstate, he was certainly privy to our goings-on and a most valuable contributor to discussion.

Beyond that, you had a kind of outer scrotum of part-time contributors/close associates of Roosistence. This group included Hearts2Hearts, The Filth Wizard, Shinboners, TT (who has since kind of stepped up after the fact to become an honorary inner-scrotum-er), GoNorth, Mr Reliable, The Zebra, hilly, and giantroo. (Apologies if I’ve missed anyone.) I would like to offer a huge thank you to all of the above-named.

And of course beyond that, you had the other 90% of this forum, who all got behind us and contributed to Roosistence. Many people donated money and offered up their help and expertise. Or cheap/free services that they had access to via their area of business. Kangafruity helped out with organising a bank account. Tef, after firmly establishing in his mind that we were indeed fighting the good fight, was a very generous financial contributor. Without a single shadow of doubt, it was Bigfooty’s finest hour.

Rather shamefully, I honestly can’t recall exactly who came up with the “Roosistence” moniker. I have a feeling it was Tim, but my memory fails me. I do know that the fabulous Roosistence logo/artwork was dreamt up by renowned poster artist, Ken Taylor. He was the one who also coined the “-ence” – as opposed to “-ance” – spelling of the name. I remember dropping in to Tim’s manager’s office one day quite early in the piece and Tim excitedly showing me Ken’s almost completed work. I saw the spelling and in my mind I was, like, “okay, looks like we’re spelling it –ence then”. (Which is kind of a good metaphor for Roosistence in its entirety.) I actually had that original sketch in my possession for some time, but handed it onto Mrs. Lidge after Shane passed.

I would also like to take this opportunity to quickly acknowledge the fabulous contribution made by WANM. This forum is much-maligned, sometimes even by yours truly, but it is important to remember that it gave rise to not one but two significant, supporter-led groups in the anti-relocation fight-back. That’s a fantastic effort. And while it’s fair to say that Roosistence’s informal, ad-hoc approach was very much the Yin to WANM’s Yang, that is neither here nor there in assessing the valuable contribution they made. Their work in the media, particularly in debunking AFL propaganda, was worthy of high praise, and the group’s progression towards a more explicit anti-Gold Coast stance as time went on provided some excellent momentum both for our group and everyone else involved. Well done, guys.

Onto my colleagues....

While Roosistence had no nominated leader, Lidge was someone we all looked up to and held in extremely high regard. And the amount of work he put in for Roosistence – and on Bigfooty – was just amazing. He was a real rallying point for many on here, and his efforts in getting other posters on board with flooding talkback and the like, were second to none. He was a very savvy operator, and he was forever coming up with all kinds of anti-relocation strategies, most of which were quiet genius. The ones that ended up on the cutting room floor only did so in the interests of avoiding jail time. The radio ads he whipped up off his own bat were f’ing brilliant. Selfless to a fault, he even raffled off some prized Glenn Archer beers to raise money for the Roosistence coffers.

He just never seemed to tire. Both of us avowed night owls, I’d be up talking to him until the early hours, then log onto Bigfooty the next day to discover he’d somehow found the time to pick apart a couple of fresh, pro-Gold Coast news articles sometime after we’d wrapped up our conversation. Looking back now, I wonder if the events of 2007 may have taken a fair toll on his health. All I know is that I miss having him around. But I am eternally grateful that, along with RoyalBlue, I was able to share his last game of footy with him. It was a fantastic night. After all the mayhem and tears of 2007, it was great to be getting back to enjoying the footy again. (In our rightful home in Melbourne.) And then we rolled the Pies! Given its significance, it’s a night and a memory that I will always treasure.

Kangalicious, likewise, was an inspiration. As chance would have it, she had the good fortune to be working alongside one of the key (pro-Melbourne) figures in the relocation saga. (I won’t name him, but I can guarantee you that we’d now be playing games out of the Gold Coast if not for his efforts.) Kangalicious is a woman who knows her way around political strategy, and she was of great service to the afore-not-mentioned person (and therefore the entire anti-relocation movement). She was extremely close to the coalface, and had the inside word to show for it. Her contribution to Roosistence was huge, but a lot of it was perhaps unseen outside of our group, as key information was often fed through fellow Roosistencers. From memory, the postcard/petition initiative was largely her doing. Either way, in a nod to her future work with The Huddle, she did a particularly good job of engaging the local North Melbourne community, especially the retailers in Errol Street, to get behind the anti-relocation push.

Pharro was the other trump in the Roosistence hand. Incredibly well-connected in his own right, he was yet another excellent source of quality information. And his work for Roosistence was typically sharp. Whip-smart and driven, pharro is the guy that handled anything that needed to be done quickly and with an eye to meticulous detail. His work ethic throughout was impressive, somehow managing to simultaneously run a successful business and also put his life on hold to fight the forces of evil relocation. (Same thing.) Much like Lidge and Kangalicious, he was/is also a formidable strategist.

Northbhoy was the quiet achiever of Roosistence. He preferred to stay out of the limelight, and will no doubt cringe at this shout-out, but his contribution to Roosistence was fantastic. Super-intelligent with a finely-honed bullshit radar, he possessed a real knack for cutting through the propaganda-laced crap to neatly summarise any new development. And would do so in a way that even a dullard like myself could understand. And he was yet another one who was holding down a busy job while giving up his time to fight relocation. Arden, likewise. Yes, it is true to say that we literally did “put our lives on hold”, but I’d just been retrenched so that was a relatively easy thing for me to do. The others are the ones who should be commended on that front.

As should RoyalBlue. He was backpacking his way around Europe while the relocation s**t was busy hitting the fan, and he was still somehow managing to regularly touch base and contribute as much as humanly possible. The timing was uncanny – the poor guy plans the trip of a lifetime, only for the Gold Coast news to drop just before he leaves. There was some wavering, but he eventually decided to do the sane thing and go. And at each port of call, he’d dutifully get online and catch up with any new developments. (I won’t reel out the old joke about the bordellos of Eastern Europe having surprisingly efficient wifi connection. Actually, yes I will.) And as terrible luck would have it, he missed the Roosistence gig by only a matter of a few days. Although as soon as he returned, he quickly made up for lost time, immediately throwing himself into the task of producing the ubiquitous placards for the Dallas Brooks Hall meeting.

As for me, I guess I was the odd one out. For a start, my colleagues were – and still are – far more intelligent than I could ever hope to be. They are successful individuals, I am not. They possess political acumen, where I have none. They remained calm and positive, while I stressed out and complained. I doubt I would have received much of a look in if not for the gig. I’m not sure there was much demand for someone to make smart-ass remarks, whine about how much work they had to do, and sleep late. Whereupon I would regularly awake to an Inbox avalanche that I’d then have to spend the next hour or so catching up with, and then another hour belatedly replying where required. Yes sir, I’m one slick unit.
 
Last edited:
THE ROOVOLUTION WILL BE TELEVISED


The afternoon before the gig, I was sitting at a table out the front of the Prince, having a few quiet beers with Lidge, pharro, and Arden, who had come down for the night. It was a seriously amazing effort by everyone’s favourite QLD-based poster, made all the more impressive by him helping out with some postcard/petition stuff in Errol Street that same morning, literally straight from hopping off the plane. (I should also take this opportunity to give a shout-out to Jozeph, who was another that made the trek from interstate. Phenomenal effort on both counts.) It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and I remember feeling a sense of calm come over me. A few days before the gig, Lidge and pharro had swooped in like Mr.Wolf and his twin brother, and made sure everything was up to spec. They also did a great job in organising TV media to attend, ensuring some quality coverage of the event. I was confident at that point that everything humanly possible had been done to make the night a success and all that was left for us to do was enjoy the festivities.

Reality – and a mess of butterflies – started to kick in as I made my way back home. I quickly got ready and then proceeded to smoke my own body weight in weed just to try to calm my nerves. It was all in vain, as half an hour or so later when the missus and I drove past the Prince and saw the large queue of people on the footpath, all gloriously decked out in North colours, I started feeling sick again. It was kind of a good sick though.

Unfortunately, by the time we’d found an all-night parking space, and legged it back to the pub, we’d already missed Rob Clarkson and had only just caught the tail end of Mick Thomas. But I wasn’t fussed, because...well, I was high....but just stepping inside the Prince that night pretty much fulfilled my every expectation. The place was packed, the crowd were predominantly clad in Royal Blue gear and/or North footy regalia (something you don’t see at a gig everyday!), and people were clearly having a ball. The bar was doing great business, and the merch was walking out the door. Screw Paul Kelly. To be honest, I really couldn’t have asked for more. Pharro (rocking a very cool Dave Graney-esque look on the night) and Lidge were buzzing about doing sidewalk interviews outside. The famous North VW was there. As, too, were some of the players. I recall seeing Spud, Big H, Dish, and football folk legend, Leigh Brown, in the crowd. (So much for Caro’s tripe about the players wanting to relocate.) Even notable journos in Rohan Connolly and Damien Barrett came along. (Only to both be later accosted – in plutonic but highly comical fashion – by a fiercely inebriated Kangalicious.) The vibe of the night was defiant and celebratory. This was no wake. It was a party to steel the faithful for what lay ahead.

And not just because of all the footy garb on display, but for a whole bunch of other reasons, this was by no means your average gig. I lost count of how many times I heard the club song break out. Either emanating from the stage, or just randomly erupting from a pocket of the crowd. The night attracted punters of all age, and from all walks. There were people at the Prince that had never been to a gig before, and haven’t been to another one since. (Looking at you, giantroo.) There were those that went to support their club, and those who simply wanted to take in a bitchin’ feast of live music.

People – great people – got up on stage and spoke. Tim, Trev, Arch, and the lovely super-supporter June (who let out a glorious “**** you, Demetriou!!” to a rapturous response) all did their bit to rally the crowd. Not sure who organised the latter, but my guess would be pharro. Either way, judging by the reception she received, it was a masterstroke.

At one point during the evening, Jason Evans took a moment to present the owner of the Prince (or was it Tim’s manager?), Tim, and myself with framed jumpers, marking our contribution in putting the evening together. In a gesture of extraordinary kindness and generosity, the framed jumpers were paid for and donated by pharro. Mine was an Arch jumper with a hand-painted (by that dude that does a lot of in-house artwork for the club) image of the great man emblazoned on the front. It is, literally, a work of art. However, when I heard Jason start in on his spiel, I was heading to the loo and in my extremely drunken state I thought to myself “it’s okay...plenty of time”. Alas, as I’m standing there partaking in history’s longest pee, I hear my name being called on stage. He called it a few times, and I just shrugged my shoulders and kept on pissing. That was my 15 seconds of fame. And I spent it peeing.

As I mentioned earlier, I unfortunately missed Rob Clarkson. However, I am reliably informed that he was his inimitable self, cranking out his charming, stripped-back indie-pop with a smile and a sprinkling of Gold Coast-directed vitriol. Rob is a raconteur in the true sense of the word, and he was a perfect way to kick off the night. At one point during his set he was joined on stage by Tim and Squeezebox Wally, establishing the warm, collaborative vibe of what was to follow.

Next up was the brilliant Mick Thomas who, predictably, killed it. (Mick’s band ain’t called ‘The Sure Thing’ for nothing.) Not a man who’s ever been backward in coming forward, he also weighed in with a quality anti-AFL rant of his own. But then I’m biased – in my world, this man is a God.

Dave Larkin of Dallas Crane and Chris Altman of The Vandas – billed as The Rockmount Five – were next to take the stage. They played an excellent set of alt.country-leaning twang-rock, that for me evoked the likes of Flying Burrito Brothers, Steve Earle, Hank Williams, Uncle Tupelo, and (especially) Gram Parsons. Very cool stuff that received a great response from the crowd, particularly considering their relative lack of familiarity with the material.

Tex – and Tim, in another of his frequent appearances on the night – quickly won over the crowd with a few of their winning TnT tunes. Tex was on point and clearly enjoying himself, as they capped off the set in fine style (and good taste!) with a fantastic, crowd-pleasing rendition of “Cunnilingus”.

Did Bouncer play? I think I’ve blocked that part out. But, hey, to their credit, they did have some nice friends who run a good line in venue security at just the right price.

Something For Kate were incredible, and a highlight of the night for many people I spoke to. From their gorgeous set-opening rendition of REM’s “The One I Love” to a sublime, set-ending cover of Springsteen’s “Born To Run” that had the audience mesmerised, the band were on fire.

Riding the ever-growing (read: increasingly-intoxicated) buzz of the crowd, fittingly, You Am I hit the stage to a hero’s welcome. With local guitar whiz Ash Naylor making a guest appearance, they blazed through a couple of You Am I standards that included “Cathy’s Clown” and (the TOD-dedicated!) “Mr Milk”. Davey Lane took over on guitar, and Tex jumped on stage, as the band ripped through blistering covers of Beasts Of Bourbon’s “Chase The Dragon” and The Stooges’ “Search And Destroy”. Then, in what was the ultimate highlight of the evening for many who attended, Phil Jamieson and Arch joined Tim and co. on stage for a house-raising cover of Rose Tattoo’s “We Can’t Be Beaten”. It was indeed a particularly special moment, on a very special night.

Serial non-playing supergroup, The Wrights, closed out the evening in ass-whooping fashion. With a line-up that included Phil, Davey Lane, Chris Cheney (The Living End), Nic Cester (Jet), Pat Bourke (Dallas Crane), and the ever-popular Kram from Spiderbait, they lit up the Prince with classic covers of “Evie”, The Easybeats’ “Sorry”, and a smokin’ rendition of Acca Dacca’s “Whole Lotta Rosie”.

And with that, the house lights went up, and a lot of happy, drunk people filed back out onto Fitzroy Street. I hung around for a bit upstairs and when the place was almost empty, I saw Tim heading my way. He was exhausted but extremely content. It had been a great night. Probably more successful than we had ever envisaged. He hugged me and told me to go backstage to the green room to hang out with the bands. The missus and I drunkenly stumbled back there but the vibe was a little too chilled and, well, Bob Marley-esque for our intoxicated state, so we bailed to hook up with the other alcohol-fuelled diehards still kicking on in the public bar downstairs. My ability to recall the rest of the evening pretty much drops out at this point, but I do remember being highly amused by a blind-drunk windsock taking considerable exception to an anti-North comment from a passer-by. My last concrete memory of the night was trying – and failing miserably – to play Galaga in the Prince’s public bar.

Cue epic hangover.

By anyone’s measure – particularly any financial ones – the night was a huge success. When all the sums were done (and just to reiterate, all the artists performed for free), we managed to raise close to $40,000. The gig received excellent write-ups in various media – The Age, The Australian, Beat, and Inpress were all glowing in their reviews/recaps.

Certainly not because of anything I did, but I think it was a fairly significant entry in the relocation fight-back diary, and I doubt it will be forgotten any time soon, at least not by those that attended. And really, that’s enough for me. I was a part of.....I dunno.....something positive. And for a person with my many failings, that’s a major achievement in itself. It’s difficult to assess what it provided in terms of a statement of ‘defiance’ and ‘support for the club to stay in Melbourne’, but as we all know, the rest is history. With JB riding in on his white steed, a week later the North faithful assembled at Dallas Brooks to give a collective middle finger to the AFL’s relocation plans. The fight was over. We had won.

The money we raised was eventually donated to the club, and went towards...errr...some very important, much-needed training equipment. What it was, unfortunately I can’t exactly recall. But I think it’s fair to say that if we finish top 4 this year, it’ll clearly be on account of that training equipment purchased with Roosistence money.


I want to extend a final word of gratitude to all my North Bigfooty brothers and sisters who contributed to making the night such a success, and one of the best I personally have ever experienced in my (insert age) years. I also want to thank blackshadow for his fine work in capturing the night on camera. (Now I think of it, I'm pretty sure he contributed the Beat review also.) And to Tim, Lidge, Kangalicious, pharro, Royal Blue, Northbhoy, and Arden – I honestly can’t thank you guys enough for all your help and support.




Thanks y’all for listening. Sorry it was so crap.
 

Log in to remove this ad.

POTY. What a great read. Our eternal thanks TOD and to Arden, Pharro, Northbouy, jozeph, Kangalicious, Lidge and everyone else who contributed.

Oh yeah TOD, your assertion that you can't wrote for s**t is bullshit, I've read your book.

You legend.

sent from my Atari using Tapatalk
 
My eternal gratitude goes out to all involved in Roosistence and WANM. You all deserve to bask extra long in any impending success coming our way.

Great write up TOD, Jesus you must read some literary masterpieces if you really think your writing is crap... I know you are embarrassed by praise, but geez mate, you're ******* good.

I'd beat you at Galaga though..;)
 
Beautiful, just ******* beautiful.

Thanks TOD.

What a freaking night that was.

And just quietly, those Something for Kate covers blew my mind.
 
great read, and writing is definately up to scratch, should this thread, or a copy of the OP's be moved to the History thread ??

Brilliant idea.

sent from my Atari using Tapatalk
 
Mind blowing recollection from someone whose mind is constantly, umm, blown.

Funny how such a s**t time in the history of the club can bring back such amazing, fuzzy memories.

And glad you snuck in the bit about being in the pisser when you were called on stage, because if you didn't, I would have.
 

(Log in to remove this ad.)

WOW! From someone who is lazy ????? What a lot of writing . /// I will read it with interest when I have a few cups of coffee beside me. :) :thumbsu:
 
Magnificent read, The Other Dean. The book should be a cracker.;)

FWIW so many years on, I always likened the Roosistence to the IRA and WANM to Sinn Fein.

Roosistence could virtually act without restriction. You guys could be streetfighters. you almost didn't exist. Like ghosts.

WANM, on the other hand, was a formal body run by people. It had to fight the good fight in public. It was accountable for its actions.

Together in informal co-operation at times, and separately, you were both daunting opponents to the Relocationistas.
 
Magnificent read, The Other Dean. The book should be a cracker.;)

FWIW so many years on, I always likened the Roosistence to the IRA and WANM to Sinn Fein.

Roosistence could virtually act without restriction. You guys could be streetfighters. you almost didn't exist. Like ghosts.

WANM, on the other hand, was a formal body run by people. It had to fight the good fight in public. It was accountable for its actions.

Together in informal co-operation at times, and separately, you were both daunting opponents to the Relocationistas.

Sums it up well.
I remember talking to Lidge one day and he was telling me about his plans to block the Tulla Freeway. I laughed. He said he was serious. I believed him. We agreed to keep the WANM and Roosistence actions VERY separate until it was absolute war. Never quite came to that.

I had actually engaged Lidge to do some work for me just after that but the rest is now history.

Great days where a couple of small groups of folk changed the club's history.
 
Thanks for the wonderful recollections TOD it was a truly memorable and sensational night.

I dips me lid to all involved in getting such a wonderful event off the ground in the hour of need.

As someone who had recently relocated from Sydney I was amazed because it never would have happened in the harbour city.

Sent from my Nexus 5 using Tapatalk
 
You know when you are listening to an inspirational speaker and you are totally mesmerized by them and hanging on every word? Well, that's how I felt when reading your Roosistence recollections TOD! THANK YOU so much for these brilliant posts! I'm sure it took you hours to write them! I had bought two tickets to the gig but wasn't sure if I would go as I couldn't find anyone to accompany me. In the end I went by myself and I'm so glad I did! What an awesome night it was! I'm very proud that I can say I was there!

I've said it before and I will say it again...THANK YOU to everyone who played a part in saving our great club! :thumbsu: :thumbsu: :thumbsu: Relocation/merger = Death! I am eternally grateful that there were good people such as TOD, Kangalicious, pharro, Lidge, Northbhoy, Royal Blue and Arden and others who were willing to put their own lives on hold to go into battle against the AFL! Good one, guys!
 
You know when you are listening to an inspirational speaker and you are totally mesmerized by them and hanging on every word? Well, that's how I felt when reading your Roosistence recollections TOD! THANK YOU so much for these brilliant posts! I'm sure it took you hours to write them! I had bought two tickets to the gig but wasn't sure if I would go as I couldn't find anyone to accompany me. In the end I went by myself and I'm so glad I did! What an awesome night it was! I'm very proud that I can say I was there!

I've said it before and I will say it again...THANK YOU to everyone who played a part in saving our great club! :thumbsu: :thumbsu: :thumbsu: Relocation/merger = Death! I am eternally grateful that there were good people such as TOD, Kangalicious, pharro, Lidge, Northbhoy, Royal Blue and Arden and others who were willing to put their own lives on hold to go into battle against the AFL! Good one, guys!

Deserves a hear, hear! GoNorth.
 
What you guys did will end up folklore. Everybody who had anything to do with the club remaining as it is now should be duly proud of themselves for ensuring many generations of North family members to come support the same club that their father & his father supported with pride.
 
Geezus mate, well done. While I knew most of the above, there are details which I wasn't fully aware of. Thanks for filling a few gaps. It was an unbelievable effort by all involved and, to this day, the night itself stands just behind the births of my kids on the top five list of nights experienced this millenium.

Never ever forgotten (not least because I have a framed Roo-sistence gig poster standing proudly on the wall in the living room 24/7). It's difficult to pay due respect to just how great a night it really was in words. I can't. I was buzzing for months afterwards.

Well done TOD and co. :thumbsu:
 
Nice work Dean. Memory is a funny and malleable thing, and while there are a couple of details here and there that I recall slightly differently, I reckon bugger it, this will do just fine as the official account. Perhaps just a shout out to Giantroo who was another terrific foot soldier for the cause during that time. Of course there were many others too, but I do recall his efforts in particular were well worth acknowledging.

As to the self deprecation on your part Dean, while it's true that some people may have achieved a level of success in their chosen field, there can be no disputing that your accomplishment in bringing this event together stands as a lasting tribute, regardless of where else you go and what else you do in life.

I distinctly recall a moment in time early in this saga when I was sitting in a bar in Adelaide after the 2007 Preliminary Final fiasco talking with a couple of SA based North supporters and discussing the rumours of imminent relocation. One of them pitched a particularly incisive question - what are you doing about it? I fumbled an answer, something about stirring up trouble on footy forums, arguing with coterie members, and so on. But I walked away knowing that whatever happened to North Melbourne, there would be this lingering "what did you do in the war, daddy?" question that I would have to live with. So that was my personal motivation through that time.

Dean, of all people, I think you can be most proud of what you did in the "war".
 

Remove this Banner Ad

Back
Top