Back in the late seventies when the Hawks were a powerhouse I attended a game at Princes Park with my dad. We were sitting behind the goals at the scoreboard end and my Pies were copping a royal flogging. A number of Hawk fans were directly behind us and gave a running commentary on how crap Collingwood were and in the end I snapped and spun around saying, " We are crap yet we still have …. ( I can't remember how many it was at the time) more flags than you and you won't get near us in the years to come. They shouted a few comments and I may have suggested they would have been excited to watch a game with a big crowd as that would not be a typical experience for a Hawks fan. Anyway, the carnage continued and early in the last term my dad said he had had enough and he was going. There was no way I was going to give the mob behind me the satisfaction of giving me a send off so I told my dad I was waiting until the end. He told me to suit myself and left.
In the next minute or two five or six of the mob got up and two sat in the empty seats on either side of me and the others crowded in close behind me. I felt sick. Every time the Hawks kicked a goal (which was quite frequently) they jostled me with elbows (accidentally on purpose) shoved me in the back of my head and the blokes behind me tipped the dregs of their cans over me. They were drunk as skunks and enjoying every moment. My biggest fear was what was going to happen when the siren went. I didn't give them the slightest reason to raise the level of abuse. I just kept quiet and didn't move. Then the siren sounded. My heart was hammering and then one of them grabbed me in a hug and said to his mates- "hey, this bloke's alright fellas-he stayed to support his team. You gotta like that!" With that they all laughed and ruffled my now damp hair and left me alone. I took another ten minutes to gather myself before rising on jelly legs and making my way to dad's car in Lygon Street.
I have had many other close calls, equally scary but they can be told another day!
In the next minute or two five or six of the mob got up and two sat in the empty seats on either side of me and the others crowded in close behind me. I felt sick. Every time the Hawks kicked a goal (which was quite frequently) they jostled me with elbows (accidentally on purpose) shoved me in the back of my head and the blokes behind me tipped the dregs of their cans over me. They were drunk as skunks and enjoying every moment. My biggest fear was what was going to happen when the siren went. I didn't give them the slightest reason to raise the level of abuse. I just kept quiet and didn't move. Then the siren sounded. My heart was hammering and then one of them grabbed me in a hug and said to his mates- "hey, this bloke's alright fellas-he stayed to support his team. You gotta like that!" With that they all laughed and ruffled my now damp hair and left me alone. I took another ten minutes to gather myself before rising on jelly legs and making my way to dad's car in Lygon Street.
I have had many other close calls, equally scary but they can be told another day!
