3 generations of my family have been going to see the OLD DARK NAVY BLUES at PP.Tomorrow my mother my children and the nephews and nieces all are going to farewell PP and barrack for Carlton.
My first recollection of the ground is going with my grandfather when I was 4 we had to get their early as he had a stroke and it took us ages to get in the ground. I remember vividly that intoxicating smell of pies /cigarettes and beer that wafted around the ground
I have many great memories of carlton winning at the ground and have many great players .
During the week I know the club has shown its own highlights of PP and these are the most well known but here are some of my own.The first round of 1988 we played hawthorn after not winning a practice match and after unfurling the flag decimated the hawks by a lot .1991 beating the unbeatable eagles by a couple of points with a team that was on a par with the present team.1994 when we smashed the eagles and I must admit that day thought we were going to win the premiership.Was there the day Robbie Muir tried to take on the whole carlton football team even trying to take on bruce doull.I was there the day earl couldnt even kick goals from the goal square but took about 10 marks.I was there the day greg williams pinched the game against the eagles by claiming the goal

As for the most well known memories was screaming when umpire took it off fitzy against Essendon* - was there when magro ironed our Jezza - we were never going to lose after that - was there the day blight sunk the torp to sink us -was there the day the buzz man took that mark

The great carlton players I saw exhibit their skills at PP include in no particular order Big Nick stephen kernahan bruce doull alex jesaulenko ken hunter stephen silvagni sergio silvagni craig bradley brent crosswell geoff southby wayne johnston Adrian Gallagher Jimmy Buckley wayne harmes rod ashman
Great memories old boy but dont worry will see you at training next week
Adieu old friend

Great post as usual Frank.

Just to share some of my best memories of Princes Park / Optus Oval. I've been trying to pick out my favourite memory all week and i think i've finally decided on it. Even though we lost the game the atmosphere there was just something absolutely special! It was the Carlton Melbourne game the day after Jared Waite's dad had passed away. The feeling at the ground sent shivers up my spine as everyone wanted us to win for Jared and his family. When he was running into that goal it felt as though everyone was willing it through and held their breath as it sadly went for a point. Even though we lost that match i'll never forget the feeling at the ground. I think that was a perfect example of suburban footy. It felt as though the whole community was remembering Viv (hope that's right please correct me if it's wrong). We'll never get the same feeling of being at home at sterile-Dome. I've always loved the feeling of being at home at Optus, of being with people like me, people who love the club. Let's get the Kouuu-taaaa chant going again!

So let's gather together for one final time at a home that the AFL never wanted us to have. It was the last piece of the puzzle they didn't control but sadly now they do. C'mon Blue boys remember when you go out onto Optus tomorrow you're not just playing for the 22 or the people inside the club you're playing for all us fans who go along every week win. loss or draw, who will never have the chance to don the Navy Blue in AFL, for people who have bleed Navy Blue for many years through the countless highs and the few lows, give our famous HOME the send off it deserves.

On a sidenote, a perfect banner for tomorrow would be a tombstone with "R.I.P. Suburban Football" and above it "killed by the AFL"

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Fev, Slim Red and the excitement machine Eddie what a full-forward line!!

Pop worked in the hairdresser in Carlton in Lygon street, he'd shut shop of a saturday and wander up to the ground. When dad started courtin' mum he'd meet Pop (always smart to get in good with the old man) and they walk together.

Then came us kids and mad car dashes to the ground after a few rounds in the pub. Reckon the 1st player I can remember seeing at P.P was Brian Kekovich. Then I remember the clock, the concrete steps and the cans. The rattle of the cans down the steps at the end of the game....

So many great memories of the ground but for me it will always be friends, family and raining goals in the 3rd at The Heatley Stand end.

I was there the day we kicked 30.30 against the Hawks. That is easily the most unbelieveable match. Raining goals. There the day Muir went mad, crazy, funny day that one.

Remember the 1st game I took my lad to. he was 4 and it was against Adelaide. Porter absolutely cleaned up a crows player and the soundof the crunch made my son turn white. We moved a bit further back after that.

So many great memories. Watching the game with Frank Anderson and his sons. Beers with dad and the brothers. Mate Keith and I through the 90's. Mostly just standing on the rail in front of the Social Club have tanked, yelling madly and eatching the bluebaggers bring in the bacon.

Twas a grand place, a joy to travel to (always inner city living cept some eyars in the country) and the best place to meet frienda nd family and share memories, beer and a game with.

Tomorrow will be a wake. The grand old dame has passed away, she was by far the best of all the suburban grounds and i've seen 'em all. Princes Park will always be Carlton for me.

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This type of slight is alien in the more cultured part of the world - Walsh. Its up there with mad dogs, Englishmen and the midday sun!

I've sat in the same seat in the Hawthorn stand since I can remember.

In order to beat the traffic, if we were losing, my dad always had us stand at the stairwell on the very far left of the stand, almost in line with the social club goals. I've watched some painful losses from that stairwell (but many more wins from my seat!!!).

In 1989 against Brisbane, I watched Warwick Capper kick an after the siren goal to the outer end to sink us. On the way down the stairs, my dad said RObert Walls was gone.

He taught me what the word 'sack' meant on that very day. And by the time we got home it was official. Another Carlton memory in my head, another word in my vocabulary.

Walking out of the ground that day the communal disappointment was palpable. You felt like a large family of carlton people at Princes Park. I don;t think we'll ever find that feeling again - a big family at home.

In the future, there will be wins and losses and memorable moments, but it will never be the same. It will never be at home.

Goodbye Prinny. Football, and life, will never be the same without you.

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They will know that they've been playing against the famous old dark blues

Some of the best posts I've read.
No matter what happens, those memories cannot be erased.

Lets hope in 10 years time, we're all here to recount more recent memories.
Walker taking games apart at the Dome.
Russell dominating at the G.

The past is to be embraced, but so is the future.

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Looking forward to seeing our potential realised.

Vale old friend.

Not only is our history passing away, but so does the last of the suburban grounds. A reminder of where our past lay. Of standing rooms and smelly toilets. Of the peanut bloke throwing bags at you. Of being close enough to hear the thwack of flesh on flesh. To see the opposition players head turn as they heard our 'abuse'.

Rocking and rolling with the 'boys' behind the Heatly stand goals as the Blues came storming home. Hearing the weekly abuse by the same bloke against the same player, no matter how good or bad that player was.

The cheers as a past legend made their way into the stand. Being able to stand with a beer in your hand. The old scoreboard end and the rivers of urine from 3/4 time as blokes couldn't be bothered going to the overcrowded dunnies lest they miss any of the action.

Overpriced food, undercooked hot dogs. Warm beer and cold pies. The shuffle out through the tunnel. Floating through it if we'd won, trudging through if we'd lost.

The renditions of the club song on the tram ride home. The brave singing by a token West Coast fan if they'd won.

The constant thud thud thud of footies hitting the ground as hundreds of fathers and sons played kick to kick, all emulating there heroes.

Memories of duffle coats and badges. Of scarves that mum or grandma knitted. Knowing that Monday at school was going to be great as you were going to give Smurphy or Johnno heaps cos the Blues had beaten the Bombers or the Pies. Heading home to fish and chips and to watch the replay and savour every miniute.

The coldness of a winter afternoon in Melbourne. The sun shining, the grass as green as green. The hint of frost in the air.

Its sad that these will now become memories that we will tell our grandchildren about. Watch as they cringe when we start our sentance with 'back in the old days'.

As much as facilities and crowd comfort are important, I am privledged to have enjoyed the roots of where our great game came from.

I know our future is at the Dome or the MCG. But Princes Park, you will be sadly missed.

Carna Blues

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Everything before the word "but" is horseshit - J Snow

I remember as a kid getting in for my first game and squeezed myself in the pocket infront of the Heatley stand... big Nick in the pocket/ FF and i was amazed how big his thighs were.. his ankles strapped so tight. It was probably Big Nicks last year but that was a buzz for me.

We played Fitzroy and with each goal we kicked the crowd went nuts.

That never changed.

It was always the same in front of the Heatley stand.

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Due to recent budget cuts and the rising cost of electricity, gas, and oil....... the Light at the End of the Tunnel has been turned off. We apologize for the inconvenience.

It's a bit like leaving your childhood home. So many memories and so many mixed feelings. I hope the ground will always be the spiritual home of the club. Great post Frankie. I remember going to the ground and being so close to guys I idolised -- the buckleys, ashmans, sheldons, johnno, southby, Fitzy ... You felt like you were part of the game as opposed to just a mere spectator. It's hard to walk in the oppositie direction to the tide and we too must submit to the wind of change. It was great while we had it and the memories will always be with me.

I don't have the same treasure troves of memories of PP as a lot of you do, having lived in Sydney since I was 8, and having a Father who is a) not very sporty, and b) nominally an Essendon* supporter.

I won't miss any of the things like the overflowing toilets, as charming and quaint as I'm sure they were.

What I'm sad to see go is our home. A place where we ruled, and others feared. Where the term "Premiership Quarter" was personified by the storming, rollicking waves of goals we kicked towards the Social Club end in the third, shutting out oppositions, nailing games shut by 3 qtr time, and disheartening entire teams of "the enemy", and their supporters.

I'm sad to see the individuality of footy go. To see footy blend and homogenise into a bland pudding, where players are chopped and changed season by season until fans are cheering only for a symbol on a jumper, or a set of colours, not individual players who they know will be "theirs" until the player retires.

And I'm angry about the ground being deliberately neglected by the AFL, shunned by other teams as a training venue, and hastened towards her end, all of which has been sanctioned and condoned by the keepers of our great game, the people who are supposed to make sure the traditions live, not wither and die.

I will miss Princes Park, but not miss her almost as much. But you can be assured, that every time I drive by, on that long trip down Sydney Road, I'll slow down as I drive down Royal Parade, and admire our home. It's the sign I need that after a long drive from Sydney that I've made it to Melbourne.

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And so while others miserably pledge themselves to the pursuit of ambition and brief power, I will be stretched out in the shade, singing.

Wow KK...your post affected me more than all the other memories flowing out this week.

I've enjoyed reading about all our champions, goals raining towards the Social Club end, beer-fuelled chants ringing around the ground.

But I don't share those memories. I came to PP much later in life, and while I've enjoyed watching my beloved team play on our magnificent oval, I've always been a little embarrassed by the stadium itself. It always felt a little like the spinster Aunty who just stopped caring anymore and let herself go.

But now, I think there might just be some tears to see her laid to rest at the end of the game. Thank God we will still be training there and they are not pulling her down.

Please Blueboys...make us proud of the old girl today.

What a sad day it will be to say good bye to our dearly loved Princess Park, the home of the Mighty Blues
The thrill and flood of memories, would rush on whether running by trying to lose kilo or two or driving alone, always there for me through the years.

The buzz began on the packed and creaky trams, or walking in the ddles smug with mates looking forward to the battle.
The rough concrete steps and soild wood around the squeese to take a
leak, loved the urge of the commom cause, just thump them.
She brought me plenty the Old Dame such special moments. I am so priviaged to have been part of a few great days.
The power and glory of Big Nic, the grace and sublime skill of alex jesaulenko and bruce doull the brilliance and endurance of craig bradley Bradly ,ken hunter stephen silvagni sergio silvagni crent crosswell geoff southby wayne johnston Adrian Gallagher Jimmy Buckley wayne harmes rod ashman

Say good bye to her for me Blues boys as alas I’m far away on this day the last great day.

Go Blues just make us proud, and let us sing the mighty chant for all to hear.

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Go Blue Boys

Thanks, Mrs Caz. I started off by wanting to say I don't share the same memories due to my distance, but the rest just flowed out.

I think maybe I've been exposed to Dannyboy a bit too much....

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And so while others miserably pledge themselves to the pursuit of ambition and brief power, I will be stretched out in the shade, singing.

PP for me was like my own Boys Own annual, it helped me understand what it was like to be out in the real world. I experienced people of all shapes and ages. Some would make you laugh and some would make you angry. As i journied from childhood to my teens and into my forties all of the memories take a different blur and perhaps, finally a common shape.

As a 7 year old I didn't really understand what footy was in fact, i do know that we always got there at the beginning of the last qtr in the seconds. I couldn't wait to see what was on for lunch. We always had a hot soup from the thermos, a selection of fresh sandwiches and hopefully some cake rather than fresh fruit. It was always a good idea to get it all away early so you could score a hot dog or hot pie later. Regardless you always knew you would get peanuts. In the comfort and body warmth of the Heatley stand you always knew that the strange old peanut man with the funny looking glasses would send a bag your way. Always a trade for a couple of fresh oranges straight from the Vic market. As a 6 year old in '68, the blues were starting to get some excitement about them. In fact, i knew nothing else. I remember a blur of plyers like Ragsy Gould, Big Nick, Barry Gill, Serge and those big ankle straps of Wes Lofts. They oly remained familiar to me because i had their faces on my footy cards. I really had little idea of what was going in durng the game, but i do know that the old Heatley shook, rolled and thundered whenever there was ball getting close to the 'sticks' at our end. And at the end of everyone game as a chorus of song about the navy blues took shape - there was ALWAYS a player carried off on the teams shoulders (I am sure of it)

By the time I got to 11, well it was a full days outing with a couple of friends. PP was the venue, money in my pocket from working afternoons at my local Milk Bar (do they still exist in Melbourne? ). Again off to the HEatley stand, but it always seemed a bit harder to get into the stand. The secret was getting there before the end of the first quarter and getting a seat. At least you were in and the old attendant (I am probably his age now), would know your face. If you lost your 'claimed' seat well you could always hang around the stairs......by that time the game had begun and the blues were rockng. Full from a couple of pies and a hot dog for desert, I knew the game and things were happenning in '72. Jezza would always provide the inspiration, a stange loping twirl from Wallsy. I could never believe how Geoff southby could take such a mark against others to not only defend but create an attack. No-one has ever been able to kick the ball like he did.

As i went through my teens the game and PP took a different meaning. Rushing to the ground after a playing an early game of footy you had to make it for the first bounce of the ball - it was the passion of Royal parade the took a meaning. I now had my own license, and the sense of frustration of finding a car park merged with the excitement of seeing the see of faces with a sense of expectation hurrying along the royal park footy grounds to get to the ground. It was 1979 and standing under the old score board i could never believe how quick,small and arrogant we were. Ashies helmet, sheldons grin, harmesy's waddle, marcou's blown hair and bucks' dirty look. We were good. The premiership qtr wasn't a wish for us, it was expected....7,8,9 or maybe 10 goals raining down on us. I used to look over at the Heatley stand from the scoreboard and wonder how she was doing, but i was happy shaking the legs from my own game of footy. Besides we were allowed a couple of beers now - particularly under the scoreboard.

Life went on and many years passed and I was earning money so it wasn't just a season ticket now, i had earned my own reserved seat. I don't know why or how but by the time i was 38 i was now entrenched in the gardiner stand. She had always seemed like a lost cousin from where i sat as a child in the Robert heatley, but know I understood she was the wise aunty you visited. The Gardiner still felt foreign, but from where we sat we were close to the action. The action was a plenty, as we had KooouuuutaHHHH, ratts, SOS, braddles (when was ever going to retire). And we played with fate in the late 90's to early 2000, we had our own supporters hoping and swaying with the test of fate. And it was in the Gardiner stand i realised and came to appreaciate the raging passions of the social club member at PP.

PP will always be football to me. It will always be a big part of my development. I saw many great players, learnt about the game and learnt a lot about people.

London is a long way away, but my heart is very close. Live on and rock for one last time Blue boys. Get the Heatly rocking, let the social club members rip everyone apart and carry your team mates on your shoulders. I can't wait for the song one last time.

Go Blues

too many memories too mention
So long old girl and thanks
Go BLUES

(hope Melbourne doesnt piss on our parade as they have done many times in the past - @#$%&! I hate Melbourne?)

The ground is silent now.
The tears came when the men of 45 proudly came.

That tear came again.
At the end.
Kouta passed it to Big Nick and he held it aloft.
Proud and Blue.
The kids streamed on.
And the dads.
And they kicked.
And kicked.
And the balls buzzed through the air.
Mosquitos buzzing a summer pond.
Our own mosquitos are long gone.
And the pond is silent now.
Save for the teardrops.

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This might sound extreme in the context of alleged sexual assault, drunken violence and a drug trafficking charge...

Yes, I know that it is all very necessary - but thankyou AFL for sterilising football.

Now its all clinical and sanitised. real suburban footy versus football in the caverns of MCG and Telstradome.

On 3aw they described our game at the mcg against Collingwood - as a 'good old suburban scrap'.

OK weve lost suburban footy now, but the media should re invent the terminology and retrospectively ghange the meaning of things just to suit their own narrow purposes.

I dont want to lose the concept of suburban football and have it bastardised by the media into something that is wasnt.

Its a bit like comparing varnished timber with woodgrain laminex.

a real granite benchtop with a lookalike one made from plastic resin.

a real brick veneer house to one that has been clad with modern brick fibro cladding.

My 6 year old has only been to Optus for 3 years - today he openly was saying how sad he was.

A little kid with such a very few years of experience says something like that - then it really does mean something.

Sorry, but I think that things could have been done differently.

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My Blue Heaven

I can't think of too many examples where a favourite childhood pastime still translates into adulthood. The best day at the footy is always watching the Blues at Optus, I will miss it badly. I still love Carlton at the G and the Dome but they don't have the extra bit of emotion that OO has.

I really hope we capture our amazing history into something really tangible and accessible because I don't want to be just another club running around Telstra Dome.

It's really up to all of us to keep the tradition, spread the word and pass it on.

My favourite memory of OO, the look on Kernahans face when he ran out for a game against Hawthorn in 1995 after we had lost the previous two weeks. I had a direct eye line with him - nothing was going to stop him that day.

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Get comfortable being uncomfortable

I had a chat with a bloke this morning, up at the top bar in the social club.

He was 82 years old, never caught his name, looked 65 if he was a day, fit as a mallee bull.

He was the CFC timekeeper for 26 years.

Became the timekeeper the year before Barassi came over.

1964-1990, he saw 7 premierships as a timekeeper.

Told me some great stories in our half hour chat.

Bout the time at Moorabin when the buzzer would not go so he had to physically ring the Bell. In the confusion Carlton kicked a goal before half time. Carlton ended up winning by a goal.

Said they have changed where they sat recently in the last few years, said they used to sit behind the Silvagni's and pointed to where they sat.

I will never get to meet and chat with a bloke like this at the MCG or the Dome.

Strange days indeed ...

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