- Jan 7, 2010
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Of all the signifiers that AFL footy really was back this season, following a pandemic-afflicted facsimile of a season in 2020, the most potent might also have been the most ephemeral. I’m talking about the return – until the latest lockdown, that is – of the humble banner, or “run through”.
Banners have been part of the game since at least 1939, when a patchwork, crêpe paper lattice was held in front of the players’ race before the grand final between Melbourne and Collingwood. And they’ve only grown more monstrous in size, complexity – and parochialism – in the decades since.
A new book, Footy Banners: A Complete Run-Through, by Leigh Meyrick and Matthew Hagias, celebrates the tradition with photographs and stories. Such as that of comedian Danny McGinlay, a banner-writer who was given the boot by the Western Bulldogs in 2018 after composing one too many provocative sledges.
Making AFL banners is a team endeavour – with the writer’s mum part of Richmond’s effort.CREDIT:JUSTIN MCMANUS
Yet the story I find most endearing isn’t in the book. It involves my mum, Dorothy. A few years ago, at a Richmond Tigers event, Mum sat next to a banner-maker named Mandy. Mum, then 78, groaned that her age meant she’d be a “useless” addition to the banner crew, to which Mandy replied: “Pfft! You can cut things out, can’t you? Come!”
And so she did, every Wednesday night from then on, taking a taxi to Punt Road Oval to meet various ORCS (Official Richmond Cheer Squad) members, such as Joan, who usually catches a V-Line train into Richmond every week from Bendigo.
She sits upstairs with Mum in the Maurice Rioli Room, cutting out letters and pictures, while the younger members crawl around on the floor, connecting the vast, interlacing reams of paper with gaffer tape. Mum began bringing in homemade treats, too, to share with new friends like Luisa and Merna, Stewart and Vince.
They watch the artwork and message emerge from their collective endeavour. One night, a volunteer turned to Mum and said, “Doing this is really … my life.” It’s in such moments that you scoff at those who believe footy clubs are nothing but hotbeds for toxic masculinity.
And for Mum, there’s an added thrill. Occasionally, she gets to email a mate who she knows will be watching the upcoming game: “Check out the Tigers banner this week!” Mum writes. “I cut out Dusty’s boots!”
Standard bearers: the footy fans kicking goals for AFL banners
Banners have been part of the game since at least 1939, and they’ve only grown more monstrous in size, complexity – and parochialism – in the decades since.
