So we're all passionate Roos fans but how did we all get this way? It's not like we're the biggest or most fashionable club, but we've all chosen this enlightened path for a reason.
For some it may be because we had no choice - an enraged parent would have disowned you if you ever said you weren't a Roos fan. A blue and white beanie was whacked on your head before the umbilical cord was cut. Others may have lived within a Malcolm Blight torp of Arden St and snuck down to watch training every Tuesday after school. Others will have other stories.
Mine came about from a very poor Phys.Ed school report in 1978 (Grade 1!) Dad, a mad St.Kilda fan, decided to remedy this by buying a plastic footy and having a kick with me when I got home from school. I loved it (and never got a bad PE report again). Anyway, the time came to pick a team. St.Kilda was the obvious choice but I saw the news one night and North were unbeaten on top of the ladder. This got me thinking so I asked: Who won the flag last year? North. Hmmm. Who came last? St.Kilda. HMMMM. That's it I announced, I like North. Dad thought it was amusing and that I'd get over it but to his horror Mum had a surprise for me the next day when I got home. She'd bought be a little Roos jumper...WITH Malcolm Blight's number on the back! That was it, I was hooked. Dad was horrified. A few years later we moved back to the city and he took me to many games at Moorabbin in the hope I'd change. But St.Kilda were even more hopeless, although that didn't matter as I was a Roo through and through and eventually Dad resigned himself that I wouldn't change. He never forgave Mum and eventually we had to stop sitting together at Roos/Saints games because it was the only way we'd ever get into an argument.
For some it may be because we had no choice - an enraged parent would have disowned you if you ever said you weren't a Roos fan. A blue and white beanie was whacked on your head before the umbilical cord was cut. Others may have lived within a Malcolm Blight torp of Arden St and snuck down to watch training every Tuesday after school. Others will have other stories.
Mine came about from a very poor Phys.Ed school report in 1978 (Grade 1!) Dad, a mad St.Kilda fan, decided to remedy this by buying a plastic footy and having a kick with me when I got home from school. I loved it (and never got a bad PE report again). Anyway, the time came to pick a team. St.Kilda was the obvious choice but I saw the news one night and North were unbeaten on top of the ladder. This got me thinking so I asked: Who won the flag last year? North. Hmmm. Who came last? St.Kilda. HMMMM. That's it I announced, I like North. Dad thought it was amusing and that I'd get over it but to his horror Mum had a surprise for me the next day when I got home. She'd bought be a little Roos jumper...WITH Malcolm Blight's number on the back! That was it, I was hooked. Dad was horrified. A few years later we moved back to the city and he took me to many games at Moorabbin in the hope I'd change. But St.Kilda were even more hopeless, although that didn't matter as I was a Roo through and through and eventually Dad resigned himself that I wouldn't change. He never forgave Mum and eventually we had to stop sitting together at Roos/Saints games because it was the only way we'd ever get into an argument.