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Well, there we were in Melbourne for the day, Blue Beatle and I. We went to see the Brisbane game, thankfully. We caught the early morning Tiger flight from Hobart and headed to a couple of appointments. It had been on our agenda to visit the new developments at PP as I had only seen it as a hole in the ground and then a construction site. On the tram we saw it looming ahead and as we stopped and got off I had the eerie feeling I had felt a hundred times before when my dad and I did the same thing on the way to our seats in the Hawthorn stand. The sight of the old brick buildings leading to the ground; goodness knows what purpose they serve still but they haven't changed in my memory, the path leading to the back of the old stand where we bought the footy record was still the same but there the feeling ended. The new buildings look great and there are still enough seats there for quite a few people to go and watch a game of footy and maybe even to expand the capacity one day....
There was a nice flag standing proudly away from the pole at the entrance and I decided I wanted one. Had to have one for my flagpole at home that usually flies the national flag of Australia (or Mexico on special occasions such as my wife's birthday). When the Navy comes to town I fly the white ensign so the officer of the watch can see it as they steam up the Derwent and know that they are in friendly territory. Blue Beatle and I joked about the time in Sydney after we won the 79 Grand Final and I risked court martial by flying a home made CFC flag from the regimental flagpole. I did want a proper flag.
We went in the main doors and were struck by the sixteen cups there, proudly on display. I expressed my disappointment to Blue Beatle that there wasn't much room for expansion, as we waited our turn for a photo in front of them. Opposite was the reception desk. I asked the young man there where the wall was with the names of the Friends of Carlton on display but he said he didn't know. Maybe if we ask at the shop, he said. I was a bit taken aback that he wouldn't know such a thing but we decided to go to the shop via the cafe. There, five metres from the reception desk was the wall. It took me a few seconds to work out how the names were written, in columns or rows but we found ours and duly headed for the shop. It looks a lot better than before. More stuff, better arranged, bigger counter, more staff. I asked if they sold flags like the one outside. They did. But we have lost the key to the cabinet. So she and two others started to ring various offices and cellphones trying to find out if anybody knew where the key was. I offered to have lunch in the cafe while they searched.
The cafe menu is pretty sparse but normal lunch fare in Australia. Pasties, Pies, Sausage Rolls, sandwiches/rolls. The menu was written on a whiteboard next to the counter. It was 12:30 on the dot. There may have been eight people eating at various tables. Blue Beatle was first to order.
He would have apastie. Sorry no pasties.
So he would have a sausage roll. Sorry, no sausage rolls.
So what have you got left. Pies. OK he would have a pie. I would too, it seemed.
I noticed there were three sandwiches left in the display cabinet. Blue Beatle hoped nobody else was coming for lunch as soon there would be nothing left for them to order at all.
A chef was going hard at it in the background looking after a 'Ladies of Carlton' lunch, God bless them.
We ate at the end table overlooking the Social Club end goals where a family was kicking goals from all angles while one of the boys was doing a great job of imitating a goal umpire.
I went back to the shop after my pie. I asked the girl if they had found the key. It seemed they'd stopped looking as soon as I had turned my back the first time because she mumbled something about it being lost and started frantically making more phonecalls. Her friend on the other end of the counter was busily telling a customer that the beanies only come in one size and they fit everybody and are only $20.
Finally my attendant raised someone who might know where the key was. He arrived shortly thereafter and looked in the computer-based inventory list. No, I haven't got the key, he informed the girl.
Sorry we haven't got any flags in stock but I can order you one, to me this time.
I asked him if I could get it online (yes) and so decided that was the way I would do it. I told Blue Beatle I was out of luck and we headed for Spencer St empty handed, despite having had the good intentions to spend the $110 dollars a flag would have cost. I suppose anybody who wanted to buy stuff that we could see through the glass of the display case was to be similarly disappointed at the lack of a key. They obviously don't need the money or the return clients. They do need a spare key.
My parting comment to Beatle was that for a professional footy club, the help was pretty ordinary as was the service. We won't be back, even if it's just to see if the bloke on the desk knows where the names are yet or if they've found the key to the display cabinet.
It was great to visit the old place again to look at the oval and talk about the good old days but as for the rest of it, it reflects our recent on-field performances we reckon. Pretty bloody frustrating.
But at least I now know why we why we are kicking so many behinds in games lately.
Somebody forgot to order the sausage rolls.
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Let slip the Blues of war (with apologies to William Shakespeare) (and Sir Francis Bacon, just in case)
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Very good.....fun.
), - they got an experienced operator there to run it.