LiterallyNobody
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Shiny Penny
- Jul 26, 2006
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- St Kilda
A few weeks ago I mentioned that I was never going to attend a St Kilda game at Etihad again and there was a reason for that. I put this in another thread but I think it makes more sense here.
Quick word of warning, this post will be long. It will be angsty and it will be very raw. It’s probably going to upset a lot of people but I have some stuff I need to get off my chest. If you do take the time to read it I appreciate that so much but if it sounds like something you don’t want to then skip it. That’s fine.
It starts .... with a confession.
I am in some ways a very toxic human being. I have an actual fear of death and at times it’s a relief because sometimes I hate myself so much it’s the only thing stopping me from taking my own life.
The worst thing about me is my temper. I’ve gone into this before. Check my posting history and you’ll see numerous melts on bay 13, on the general board song contest, on the Werewolf threads (if you don’t know, don’t ask, you don’t want to know).
You’ll see numerous name changes - started as One Eyed Sainter or OES, changed to Melter after a particularly rough period where I lost my s**t, settled on the one I currently have because it felt slightly more anonymous and I actually had to leave this site for my own sanity but I am getting ahead of myself.
This story starts a few years ago. On a day that we here refer to as Bad Friday. For most here it was the day that resulted in the awful game of football that spelt the beginning of the end for Richo. The day that made us realise that we were in no way on the right track. The day that we all never talk about because of the unspeakable horror we witnessed that day.
Well for me that day was the beginning of something else - the beginning of my intense realisation that not every supporter of the football club was a nice person - some were downright horrible.
I have to go back a bit more. I have a naturally loud voice. I have incredible difficulty keeping the volume of my voice down. At the football this becomes a real problem if people are seated near me.
Anyway in this fateful day a gentleman st kilda supporter sitting in front of me and his daughter (either that or he was a cradle snatching pervert but that’s none of my business *sips tea*) got my goat when the girl turned to me literally about five minutes into the game and asked me to keep my voice down. The thing that upset me the most was it wasn’t swearing or even abusing umpires or anything (which I have been rightly told off for doing in the past) - it was simply barracking. I think I may even have been cheering a good passage of play and probably talking to my wife (more on her later) and giving a play by play of the turn of events.
This upset me. It would upset anyone. I can hear you say “Why is this a big deal?” And the reason is because my ****ed up brain MAKES it a big deal. I go into darkness whenever this sort of things happened. And for the rest of the game I was fighting a losing battle trying to keep my voice down and trying not to lose my temper. This continued throughout the entire first half. I would mutter things like “hmmm better not talk too loud in case I get in trouble” and the like naturally drawing my colleague’s ire with every comment.
Midway through the third term there was a particular moment where I couldn’t contain myself and I actually said something along the lines of “oh, better not say anything in case I upset people”
The old campaigner (probably a nice bloke but to me he’s the catalyst for my hatred of this stadium so unfortunately he wears this for the rest of his life) turned around and said firmly “enough” and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I immediately got up, said a goodbye to my wife and father and viciously stormed off while snarling something bitter like “yeah it’s enough. I’ve had absolutely enough.”
So what followed was a shameful twenty minutes of me making an absolute scene in public at shitihad stadium. There was loud swearing, punching of the concrete wall in the breezeway and utter loss of my senses with little regard to my surroundings.
I need to stress it is very very hard to talk about this. I know my behaviour was out of line and I know I was reacting in an unnecessary way. I don’t need anyone here to tell me I was in the wrong and the guy or his daughter were quite within their rights to tell me to settle down HOWEVER I will fight to the end of the earth for my right to say that how it started and what it started from irregardless of how poorly I handled it was inherently unfair.
I reiterate there was no swearing or anything. It was simply someone asking me to keep my abnormally loud voice down while supporting.
Now.... I know exactly what you’re thinking. El Duderino, why on earth is this such a big deal? Why can’t you just forget about it and not let it get to you?
And that my friends is where we arrive at the major issue here - that I am ****ed in the head and don’t have the ability to not let s**t like this affect me. There’s more to it I’m sure but I won’t bore you with the details of my crippling anxiety because frankly the nitty-gritties of that are not particularly pertinent to this story. Not yet anyway.
Anyway that’s the first time this happened. I put it down to a bad day. Bad Friday for me was nothing to do with the game. This day had been ruined for me by a combination of an unfair turn of events and my inability to deal with it. But sadly this was not the last time such an event would take place.
I need to now make a second confession - one that is probably more shameful to people here but is an integral part of the story:
I am a proxy Carlton member. In some ways they are my equal favourite team but really they are my second favourite team. Now a lot of you will be shocked beyond words right now and some of you already know this. Allow me to explain myself.
Being born in 1984, and being largely not interested in football until about 1995, I don’t have the same atrocious history with Carlton and their supporters that some of you have. To me, the only Carlton supporters I ever really knew were my mother and sister and her family who I saw occasionally. It was the Collingwood and Essendon supporters that were the arseholes to me.
As a result Carlton had always been and still are my second favourite team. A concept foreign to a lot of you I’m sure but still it’s fact. I won’t and have never shied away from that.
Why is this important? Because it brings me to the next point I have to make - I go to every Carlton game with my wife who is also a Carlton supporter. The thing is, my lovely wife absolutely loves football. Almost as much as I do. I’m not talking about just the saints. I love the game. I get into it big time. I watch every game that’s on. We don’t watch movies on the weekend. We watch the footy together. That’s just what we do.
One of the best things about going to Carlton games (I know you all just vomited in your mouth) is that I get to go see a lot of games at the MCG - my favourite footy venue by far. There’s something about that walk from the car park to your seat that just feels amazing. Especially for day games. Playing a Saturday or Sunday afternoon at the G. There’s nothing better. As saints fans we may get to experience this two or three times a year (never more than three since 2013) so going eight or nine times a year is something I take advantage of.
So the next St Kilda game I attended after this was the 2018 game against Carlton which amazingly passed without incident.
The following year I attended the first st kilda Carlton game of 2019 - initially we sat in the medallion club and for the second time the St Kilda supporters in front of me turned away and asked me to keep my voice down. I reacted slightly better this time. I remember I accidentally took the bag with me which had my wife’s phone in it so I couldn’t tell her where I had gone. And I refused to go back to my seat. Anyway blah blah blah long story short it was the second time this had happened. It disgruntled me and made me question ever going to another game at Etihad.
The next game I attended there was of course a Carlton game and again I was nervous (just as I had felt attending the Carlton Gold Coast game the day after Bad Friday) about what reaction fans would have around me. It was my birthday and I was extremely anxious about going. I even said to my wife “can I not go. I don’t want to be upset on my birthday” but in the end I just went and it turned out to be the game where Carlton won their first match with Teague in charge.
No event took place that day nor the next two times I attended games which led me to believe maybe I wasn’t the problem. At this point I was just as loud at these games as I had been at Carlton games and as this was approximately the time I came to the realisation that perhaps it was St Kilda supporters that were the problem. Certain supporters. Not as a collective. Three in particular (though the third I haven’t yet mentioned. Stay tuned)
A couple of weeks later we played Brisbane at Etihad - I’m sure you all remember how that turned out. Absolutely destroyed. Cameron kicked five; they kicked nine goals in the third and we didn’t give a Yelp.
Basically this is where I hit rock bottom as a human being. When my wife tried to convince me that I was being silly getting upset about the footy and it was just a game I lost my s**t (surprise surprise) and ended up walking around the corner lying in the middle of the road completely unaware of anything. A car was coming around the corner fast and I got out of the way just in time. It occurred to me at that point I didn’t care if I lived or died. Which is ridiculous because I had so much to live for. Was football really having such a negative impact on my life?
I decided the safest thing to do was ECO for a few weeks and it kind of worked... for now I would live vicariously through Carlton’s season as they were actually having more success than us at that time. And even when they lost they played exciting football losing two games to the bulldogs and Melbourne that were high scoring thrilling encounters.
A horrible realisation struck me when I attended the Carlton Melbourne game at the G and checked the score at quarter time between st Kilda and north in tassie (we were down seven goals to one) - I didn’t care what happened to St Kilda. Was I suddenly turned into a Carlton supporter?Was I officially over St Kilda? Was I about to be a turncoat flog?
A week later my son hurt his neck and had to go to hospital. As we were waiting for the doctor we watched the Geelong game together and it was a nice moment sharing this love of the same football team. He was getting excited when we were winning which was really cute. He’d never really shown much interest in football up until this point.
Next week as we know Richo got the boot and we won two in a row under Ratts before challenging Adelaide and then beating Freo in a thriller.
So this lead to the game against Carlton at the G. This was a hugely significant game because I felt at the end of the day I’d be happy whatever the result. Obviously I’d be happy if St Kilda won but if we lost, I’d still be happy for my wife that Carlton were finally showing improvement.
Only I wasn’t. I was absolutely devastated at the final siren. I realised at that moment that no matter how much I would be a Carlton supporter when they were playing I was a st Kilda supporter at heart. And any joy or euphoria I felt after Carlton games would be false - it was just short lived and wouldn’t compare to how I felt when we won. Or when we made finals last year. Or won a final. If we ever win a grand final I know that it will an amazing feeling - one I couldn’t possibly describe and that wouldn’t even compare to the false joy I would have at a Carlton premiership (even though I’d be there to soak up the celebrations with my wife)
I had the intention of going to all St Kilda games in 2020 but then Covid hit and we didn’t attend a single game. So instead we move onto 2021 - had the same intention but after just one game I swore right then and there it was third time unlucky for me and I would not return to Etihad to watch the saints. (I will break this rule in round 11 when I go with my mate to see the cripple fight between saints and north - we made this decision in round 3 when both of us suffered enormous defeats)
This was the most ridiculous one of the three and as you’ll shortly find out he was the one with the issue not me. After a particularly good looking kick went to a Melbourne player (as a number of them did)
I called out “good kick” and then upon realising my mistake, hastily tried to correct myself. The look I got from this guy was as though I said idolised Ivan Milat.
I realised in that exact moment three things :
At quarter time two people tried to move past him and he didn’t even let them past. The guy trying to get past actually called him out on it saying “yeah alright mate don’t move”
My wife turned to me and said “he’s the problem not you - don’t let him ruin your night”. But she knew that he would - and did.
Oh by the way if you are that supporter and you post here I don’t apologise for saying that - you are a ******* and you will forever be responsible for ruining my experience.
So that’s my (admittedly rather long) story about what happened that night to make me so determined to never attend a st Kilda game at Etihad again.
It starts .... with a confession.
I am in some ways a very toxic human being. I have an actual fear of death and at times it’s a relief because sometimes I hate myself so much it’s the only thing stopping me from taking my own life.
The worst thing about me is my temper. I’ve gone into this before. Check my posting history and you’ll see numerous melts on bay 13, on the general board song contest, on the Werewolf threads (if you don’t know, don’t ask, you don’t want to know).
You’ll see numerous name changes - started as One Eyed Sainter or OES, changed to Melter after a particularly rough period where I lost my s**t, settled on the one I currently have because it felt slightly more anonymous and I actually had to leave this site for my own sanity but I am getting ahead of myself.
This story starts a few years ago. On a day that we here refer to as Bad Friday. For most here it was the day that resulted in the awful game of football that spelt the beginning of the end for Richo. The day that made us realise that we were in no way on the right track. The day that we all never talk about because of the unspeakable horror we witnessed that day.
Well for me that day was the beginning of something else - the beginning of my intense realisation that not every supporter of the football club was a nice person - some were downright horrible.
I have to go back a bit more. I have a naturally loud voice. I have incredible difficulty keeping the volume of my voice down. At the football this becomes a real problem if people are seated near me.
Anyway in this fateful day a gentleman st kilda supporter sitting in front of me and his daughter (either that or he was a cradle snatching pervert but that’s none of my business *sips tea*) got my goat when the girl turned to me literally about five minutes into the game and asked me to keep my voice down. The thing that upset me the most was it wasn’t swearing or even abusing umpires or anything (which I have been rightly told off for doing in the past) - it was simply barracking. I think I may even have been cheering a good passage of play and probably talking to my wife (more on her later) and giving a play by play of the turn of events.
This upset me. It would upset anyone. I can hear you say “Why is this a big deal?” And the reason is because my ****ed up brain MAKES it a big deal. I go into darkness whenever this sort of things happened. And for the rest of the game I was fighting a losing battle trying to keep my voice down and trying not to lose my temper. This continued throughout the entire first half. I would mutter things like “hmmm better not talk too loud in case I get in trouble” and the like naturally drawing my colleague’s ire with every comment.
Midway through the third term there was a particular moment where I couldn’t contain myself and I actually said something along the lines of “oh, better not say anything in case I upset people”
The old campaigner (probably a nice bloke but to me he’s the catalyst for my hatred of this stadium so unfortunately he wears this for the rest of his life) turned around and said firmly “enough” and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I immediately got up, said a goodbye to my wife and father and viciously stormed off while snarling something bitter like “yeah it’s enough. I’ve had absolutely enough.”
So what followed was a shameful twenty minutes of me making an absolute scene in public at shitihad stadium. There was loud swearing, punching of the concrete wall in the breezeway and utter loss of my senses with little regard to my surroundings.
I need to stress it is very very hard to talk about this. I know my behaviour was out of line and I know I was reacting in an unnecessary way. I don’t need anyone here to tell me I was in the wrong and the guy or his daughter were quite within their rights to tell me to settle down HOWEVER I will fight to the end of the earth for my right to say that how it started and what it started from irregardless of how poorly I handled it was inherently unfair.
I reiterate there was no swearing or anything. It was simply someone asking me to keep my abnormally loud voice down while supporting.
Now.... I know exactly what you’re thinking. El Duderino, why on earth is this such a big deal? Why can’t you just forget about it and not let it get to you?
And that my friends is where we arrive at the major issue here - that I am ****ed in the head and don’t have the ability to not let s**t like this affect me. There’s more to it I’m sure but I won’t bore you with the details of my crippling anxiety because frankly the nitty-gritties of that are not particularly pertinent to this story. Not yet anyway.
Anyway that’s the first time this happened. I put it down to a bad day. Bad Friday for me was nothing to do with the game. This day had been ruined for me by a combination of an unfair turn of events and my inability to deal with it. But sadly this was not the last time such an event would take place.
I need to now make a second confession - one that is probably more shameful to people here but is an integral part of the story:
I am a proxy Carlton member. In some ways they are my equal favourite team but really they are my second favourite team. Now a lot of you will be shocked beyond words right now and some of you already know this. Allow me to explain myself.
Being born in 1984, and being largely not interested in football until about 1995, I don’t have the same atrocious history with Carlton and their supporters that some of you have. To me, the only Carlton supporters I ever really knew were my mother and sister and her family who I saw occasionally. It was the Collingwood and Essendon supporters that were the arseholes to me.
As a result Carlton had always been and still are my second favourite team. A concept foreign to a lot of you I’m sure but still it’s fact. I won’t and have never shied away from that.
Why is this important? Because it brings me to the next point I have to make - I go to every Carlton game with my wife who is also a Carlton supporter. The thing is, my lovely wife absolutely loves football. Almost as much as I do. I’m not talking about just the saints. I love the game. I get into it big time. I watch every game that’s on. We don’t watch movies on the weekend. We watch the footy together. That’s just what we do.
One of the best things about going to Carlton games (I know you all just vomited in your mouth) is that I get to go see a lot of games at the MCG - my favourite footy venue by far. There’s something about that walk from the car park to your seat that just feels amazing. Especially for day games. Playing a Saturday or Sunday afternoon at the G. There’s nothing better. As saints fans we may get to experience this two or three times a year (never more than three since 2013) so going eight or nine times a year is something I take advantage of.
So the next St Kilda game I attended after this was the 2018 game against Carlton which amazingly passed without incident.
The following year I attended the first st kilda Carlton game of 2019 - initially we sat in the medallion club and for the second time the St Kilda supporters in front of me turned away and asked me to keep my voice down. I reacted slightly better this time. I remember I accidentally took the bag with me which had my wife’s phone in it so I couldn’t tell her where I had gone. And I refused to go back to my seat. Anyway blah blah blah long story short it was the second time this had happened. It disgruntled me and made me question ever going to another game at Etihad.
The next game I attended there was of course a Carlton game and again I was nervous (just as I had felt attending the Carlton Gold Coast game the day after Bad Friday) about what reaction fans would have around me. It was my birthday and I was extremely anxious about going. I even said to my wife “can I not go. I don’t want to be upset on my birthday” but in the end I just went and it turned out to be the game where Carlton won their first match with Teague in charge.
No event took place that day nor the next two times I attended games which led me to believe maybe I wasn’t the problem. At this point I was just as loud at these games as I had been at Carlton games and as this was approximately the time I came to the realisation that perhaps it was St Kilda supporters that were the problem. Certain supporters. Not as a collective. Three in particular (though the third I haven’t yet mentioned. Stay tuned)
A couple of weeks later we played Brisbane at Etihad - I’m sure you all remember how that turned out. Absolutely destroyed. Cameron kicked five; they kicked nine goals in the third and we didn’t give a Yelp.
Basically this is where I hit rock bottom as a human being. When my wife tried to convince me that I was being silly getting upset about the footy and it was just a game I lost my s**t (surprise surprise) and ended up walking around the corner lying in the middle of the road completely unaware of anything. A car was coming around the corner fast and I got out of the way just in time. It occurred to me at that point I didn’t care if I lived or died. Which is ridiculous because I had so much to live for. Was football really having such a negative impact on my life?
I decided the safest thing to do was ECO for a few weeks and it kind of worked... for now I would live vicariously through Carlton’s season as they were actually having more success than us at that time. And even when they lost they played exciting football losing two games to the bulldogs and Melbourne that were high scoring thrilling encounters.
A horrible realisation struck me when I attended the Carlton Melbourne game at the G and checked the score at quarter time between st Kilda and north in tassie (we were down seven goals to one) - I didn’t care what happened to St Kilda. Was I suddenly turned into a Carlton supporter?Was I officially over St Kilda? Was I about to be a turncoat flog?
A week later my son hurt his neck and had to go to hospital. As we were waiting for the doctor we watched the Geelong game together and it was a nice moment sharing this love of the same football team. He was getting excited when we were winning which was really cute. He’d never really shown much interest in football up until this point.
Next week as we know Richo got the boot and we won two in a row under Ratts before challenging Adelaide and then beating Freo in a thriller.
So this lead to the game against Carlton at the G. This was a hugely significant game because I felt at the end of the day I’d be happy whatever the result. Obviously I’d be happy if St Kilda won but if we lost, I’d still be happy for my wife that Carlton were finally showing improvement.
Only I wasn’t. I was absolutely devastated at the final siren. I realised at that moment that no matter how much I would be a Carlton supporter when they were playing I was a st Kilda supporter at heart. And any joy or euphoria I felt after Carlton games would be false - it was just short lived and wouldn’t compare to how I felt when we won. Or when we made finals last year. Or won a final. If we ever win a grand final I know that it will an amazing feeling - one I couldn’t possibly describe and that wouldn’t even compare to the false joy I would have at a Carlton premiership (even though I’d be there to soak up the celebrations with my wife)
I had the intention of going to all St Kilda games in 2020 but then Covid hit and we didn’t attend a single game. So instead we move onto 2021 - had the same intention but after just one game I swore right then and there it was third time unlucky for me and I would not return to Etihad to watch the saints. (I will break this rule in round 11 when I go with my mate to see the cripple fight between saints and north - we made this decision in round 3 when both of us suffered enormous defeats)
This was the most ridiculous one of the three and as you’ll shortly find out he was the one with the issue not me. After a particularly good looking kick went to a Melbourne player (as a number of them did)
I called out “good kick” and then upon realising my mistake, hastily tried to correct myself. The look I got from this guy was as though I said idolised Ivan Milat.
I realised in that exact moment three things :
- I was not going to enjoy this night at all.
- I needed to shut the * up for self preservation.
- (Some) St kilda supporters are *******s.
At quarter time two people tried to move past him and he didn’t even let them past. The guy trying to get past actually called him out on it saying “yeah alright mate don’t move”
My wife turned to me and said “he’s the problem not you - don’t let him ruin your night”. But she knew that he would - and did.
Oh by the way if you are that supporter and you post here I don’t apologise for saying that - you are a ******* and you will forever be responsible for ruining my experience.
So that’s my (admittedly rather long) story about what happened that night to make me so determined to never attend a st Kilda game at Etihad again.