Some of my clearest memories have been punctuated by the Richmond Football Club.
Coach Danny Frawley being spat on by feral supporters in 2004 in what would eventually become a 14-game losing streak and end with his resignation.
Nathan Brown’s leg snapping against Melbourne in 2005. I was 11. I’ll never forget my sister Claire’s ashen face as we watched the replay on the MCG scoreboard – dismayed, heartbroken, sickened. The train ride home was eerily silent, the carriage filled with stricken fans, perplexed such a thing can happen to a limb in such a grotesque way.
‘Winning’ the Wooden Spoon in 2007.
Giving Matthew Richardson a standing ovation with my mum, sisters and brother for reaching 800 career goals in 2009…
… before witnessing him tear his hamstring off the bone in the same game. It would be the last of his 282-game career.
Watching Coach Terry Wallace’s ‘Five Year Plan’ unravel spectacularly months later.
Seeing Damien Hardwick and Dustin Martin enter the fray in 2010.
Missing out on the finals in 2012 after Gold Coast’s Karmichael Hunt (who wasn’t even a proper AFL player) kicked a goal after the siren to put a nail in our September coffin. As he lined up to boot it, my mum buried her face into the curtains, too panicked to watch. It was the first and only time I’ve heard her swear in my entire life.
Mum's smile in 2013 when we became the first AFL club to ever appoint a female president.
Our record-breaking, belief-defying dash to the 2014 finals after sitting in 16th spot on the ladder halfway through the season...
... only to be thumped by Port Adelaide and eliminated in the first week. I watched the demolition at Punt Road with Claire. Another eerily quiet commute home followed.