This is our Liberty Vallance moment…if we but grasp the chance, the way Ranse grabbed the chance Tom gave him. Really this is a stretch I know, after all Hird is no villain, he’s been heroic through all this, wanting (much like Tom) for the truth to win out…course unlike Tom, Hird cannot keep his mouth shut and so he fell…he and that whole black and red army of no good varmints, may they rot in the hell of watching the Bluebagger army stride into the glorious sunshine of September action…oh how sweet, like Hitler in his bunker…Hird and co must now sit and try not to hear the invading tank-like sounds of our roars, the sound of our happy feet stomping across the bridge as we descend by rail, by car, by bus and by foot onto the hallowed ground of the M.C.G.

But….


And this but is as big as the fall of the Bombers… as big though different -

and where their fall was a sweet unexpected joy this is a painful nettle that must be gotten rid of.

We play Richmond…And I Hate Richmond!!!!!!!!!!

I hate Kevin ‘look at me look at me’ Bartlett, the ball dropping balding farce of a forward who played far too many games so that to this day the sacred turf still carries some of his stench.

I hate Kevin Sheedy – he that needs to have no more about him said.

I hate Mick Mal...oh wait..how some things change...

I hate that stupid slash jumper – what moron (and twin to that Bomber moron no doubt) can conjure as sports fashion a stupid black jumper with a slash… Fair dinkum its not a jumper, it’s a schoolyard, cheap Japanese card faddish idea fit for six year olds not grown men playing upon the M.C.G.!!!!!!! Playing football, a man’s game… a game without the need for drugs…for peptides or vitamins or whatever else they take at school these days.

To make matters worse they beat us in finals! They do…Oh apart from one or two big ones…I remember them, like a streamer’s bare butt, the joys of those two final Saturdays glow in my mind, a glow that will not abate.

But.

’69 is still strong.

’73 is worse!!!!

And then there was 2001…Ahhhhhhh……..

So my Carltonian brethren, let us be like Ranse… Let us take this bloody miraculous chance and smash the Tiggers from here back to 1885 when this bastard of a club was first formed…Oh if only someone had have blown that place up way back then.


So Carlton, I expect no less than that we smash them… You want me to believe, well give me something to believe in!!! Give me the head of Richmond! Give me their bloodied corpse, lying on the turf, our bootstops imprinted into their jumpers telling a glorious story of the rise and fall of this mongrel of a club. This Sunday at the M.C.G. give us a stirring victory over this toothless mob and I’ll give you belief…I’ll give you so much belief we could start a new religion with it…Call it …Oh wait…we have… Carlton!

So this week the Bluebaggers will run riot in the spring sunshine. This Sunday we will smash the yellow and black ‘cos apart from Essendon**, and Collingwood…and Hawthorn for that matter…Oh and St Kilda…oh hell…There is nothing so sweet as sitting at the M.C.G. in a final with about five minutes to go watching the Tigger supporters leaving en masse…the hope of singing their sad little song dribbling out of them as they go, like piss staining the faded pants of a has-been gadabout, while their hopeless souls smell like the old toilets at Princes Park! I have been scared by that smell and by the losses to this mob…Too many losses to bear…So this Sunday Carlton…This Sunday we deliver!

Go Blues.

by 23 points.

The loss in '73 still burns.......Neil Balme and Laurie Fowler are still the devil

Go blues!