Goodbye Robert Heatley, hello Chris Judd

Today’s post is not so much about photography. In fact these two are below-average photos taken on my Dopod 838 Pro (that’s my phone). I look forward to a phone that carries a quality sensor and good glass.

I spent Friday afternoon at Princes Park in Carlton, watching Chris Judd’s first run with the Blues, in a practice match against the Western Bulldogs. He played as you would expect him to – like it is only him and the ball out there on the park. It’s going to be an exciting year!

More important was the final chance to farewell the legendary Robert Heatley Stand, which has stood for everything that Carlton fans hold dear about their club, but is about to be demolished to make way for redevelopment. This shot was taken from the stand at half time, as the fans played kick to kick on the ground. Ah, those were the days.

Two things stood out as I sat quietly in the stand, observing human behaviour around me. One is that no-one ever seems to get hit by a stray football. You can see how many people are on the ground, and there seems to be a football for at least every four people out there. Yet, every flying football I could track seemed to land safely on the ground.

The second is that most football fans are not exactly mental giants, and many are simply oafs.
At a game in which coaches should be experimenting with every idea under the sun, we still have the crowd roaring disapprovingly whenever too many handpasses are strung together, or an obvious passing option is ignored for the more risky centering ball. I just shake my head in tired amusement, never surprised, but always wondering why people around me can’t see the things that I can.

The oafs are the ones that simply must abuse anything on the park that is not wearing the colours of their team. Never mind that the eyesight of these oafs is clearly sub-standard, and those that wear glasses to assist seem not to understand the rules of football! Never mind that every noise that comes out of their mouth (because they are just noises, not words) explodes like a projectile into an atmosphere of women, children, small dogs and other oafs with the volume and venom more reasonably attributed to someone at war!

Football grounds are fascinating places, and a little chilling at times. I looked around me as I kept shifting in my old boarded seat, and wondered how many of the people here today were part of the “Carlton Crew”, or which of them ran the local crime syndicate. After having watched a couple of episodes of Underbelly, in which the Robert Heatley Stand was the meeting place mid-week for Melbourne’s most notorious gang members, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering “how many murderers and drug-dealers have I sat next to, possibly even shared a laugh or a clap on the back with?”. Now that the old stand is being demolished, I can satisfy myself with the knowledge that the MCG Great Southern Stand and any part of the Docklands Stadium doesn’t hold enough character for these types. This season I’ll be cheering on Chris Judd as he delivers a perfect pass into the chest of the Fev, safe in the knowledge that I will be sitting with harmless, common oafs.