What They're Saying - The Bulldogs Media Thread - Part 2

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Article in herald sun on Tony McClean

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Toby McLean gets tackled high by Patrick Cripps. Picture: Michael Klein

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They just had to get that picture in there didn't they.
 

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I can't remember. I was thinking road to glory was on mate, so searched for that and came across it. Maybe 5.30? was before road to glory anyway.

Edit: 6.30-8.30pm on 7mate.
Oh right, the guide I was looking at says Major Payne is on during that timeslot. Cheers.
 
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William McInnes: The Doggies story is for anyone who’s ever felt they didn’t belong

William McInnes, Herald Sun
September 29, 2016 9:00pm

SOMETIMES life seems a bit much. The world a cold place. And it’s because of this; it’s okay being swept up in a wonderful event that seems a little incredulous.

AFL is probably more a part of the entertainment industry now than it is a sport, where clinical decisions mean the difference not just between winning and losing but the fate of millions of dollars and business organisations.

But sometimes a moment comes along making you realise footy means a lot more than dollars and business.

The Western Bulldogs are as much of a business organisation as any other AFL club and every team in the league has myth, history and tradition.

But the Doggies are a funny team simply because they’ve given so little in terms of on-field success to their supporters over the years.

Perennial heartbreakers — yet I don’t know of any former Bulldogs supporters. People stick with them through thick and thin.

I remember watching with my young son Hawthorn thrash the Doggies lifeless on a wet afternoon in Tasmania.

Late in the final quarter I couldn’t bare it any longer and went to turn the channel before the Hawks racked up a ton lead. My son screamed out, “No Daddy, the Doggies can still come back!”.

I shook my head, sat down and smiled. The Hawks rolled on. That’s the sort of mad love of the Dogs engender.

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Fans turn out in force to watch The Western Bulldogs final training session at Whitten Oval. Picture: Alex Coppel

I’ve a friend who says the Bulldogs make a fuss of what legends they have to compensate for this lack of success.

Like Teddy Whitten. Yet what a legend. I met him once crossing Barkly St in Footscray.

He called out to me like he was leading cavalry charge. “Hey son! You there! Well done on the telly. Well done.”

And on a zebra crossing he shook my hand so hard I thought he’d turned it into bowl of mashed potato. Then he took off along the opposite side of the street with people calling out to him and him booming back.

And his statue. Not long after its unveiling, after watching a training session one early evening with a big moon rising, my son and I looked up at that exuberant figure.

“He’s happy. Is he dancing?” my toddler son asked.

“No, he’s kicking,” I said.

“He’s kicking the moon into the sky,” my boy said.

And I laughed; it was a wonderful, magical moment. A Bulldogs moment.

And that’s why it’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies tomorrow.

For anybody who’s been told they don’t belong, or weren’t good enough, or were there just to make up the numbers, the Doggies story is there for you.

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It’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies on Saturday, writes William McInnes.

For supporters of other clubs who’ve grown used to September success, imagine what it must have been like when you didn’t think you’d get there.

Imagine what it was like for Rodney. An old coot who was a fixture of West Footscray where I lived with my family. A balding, birdlike man who’d walk about in white T-shirt, dark trousers and slippers. Mostly, you’d see him at the local supermarket, perched on a bench by the chewy machine and the carpet cleaners.

He’d sit and size people up, sensing if they were up for a chat, waiting for one of his “regulars” to talk to him. The conversations were always the same.

His part would invariably start with a hearty, “‘G’day there! G’day!”. And then The Doggies.

How they’d gone, how they would go and, even if the results had been bad and the future grim, Rodney would end the chat with: “Go Dogs. We love Doggies, don’t we, Go Dogs!”

He was a presence in my kids’ life from the time they were babies, and mine for over 25 years. He never seemed to age or change.

And through it all, even though he seemed to have little to show, he was always eternally optimistic and full of love for the Doggies. And he made people smile.

He died this year. At home alone. I, like many others, went down to that ordinary supermarket and put a card and some flowers on the bench. The cards and flowers have gone, but the suburb being this odd, wonderful place, a plaque was put above the bench with Rodney’s name on it.

Rodney Bright.

Bright. What a lovely name for lovely old coot.

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West Footscray’s Rodney Bright was full of love for the Bulldogs.

Around it now are Bulldogs streamers, posters and signs declaring WOOF WOOF.

On the night the Doggies beat the Giants to get to the Grand Final, my phone buzzed with messages.

The one I remember most said simply, “One more. One more for Rodney. We love the Doggies”.

Whatever happens tomorrow there’ll be tears. The Swans are a great club and formidable opponent, but the Dogs are more than just a sentimental pick.

They’re the team whose legend kicks the moon up into the sky. A team reminding us we are good enough and we do belong.

A team who made a bloke with almost nothing happy, and he passed that happiness to the people of his community.

Go Doggies. One more. For Rodney.

WILLIAM MCINNES IS AN ACTOR AND AUTHOR WHOSE LATEST BOOK FULL BORE IS OUT ON OCTOBER 31.
 
Anyone have any idea about what kind of financial benefit the dogs would make from not only the last 3 finals games, but also the grand final? (Excluding sponsorship money ) just Money from the actual games?
Think the winner gets 1.2 mil, runner up 660k. Think that's just prize money, not revenue from attendance & stuff, not sure.

Would imagine that the real money comes from growth in membership, sponsorship etc.
Peter Gordon was asked a similar question in his presser that's up on the club website. He said we don't have any experience to give us a guide but he did mention that there had been big merchandise sales and lots of people at the ground.
I read somewhere (Fairfax?) that Geelong expect to make a loss on their finals campaign this year and they would have lost more if they'd got to the GF.
So we might not get a direct bonanza from the AFL but should benefit in the longer term with merchandising, memberships, etc.
I also read in the last few days (sponsorship thread?) that we get a bonus from Mission for every win. Perhaps they might tip in a bit extra for the fantastic exposure they are getting right now, whether it's in the contract or not.
 
I read somewhere (Fairfax?) that Geelong expect to make a loss on their finals campaign this year and they would have lost more if they'd got to the GF.
So we might not get a direct bonanza from the AFL but should benefit in the longer term with merchandising, memberships, etc.
I also read in the last few days (sponsorship thread?) that we get a bonus from Mission for every win. Perhaps they might tip in a bit extra for the fantastic exposure they are getting right now, whether it's in the contract or not.

Only if they made the GF and then lost the GF.

http://www.geelongadvertiser.com.au...p/news-story/c58acf7ebab7f0c43e0ba26dffd74d6a
 

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William McInnes: The Doggies story is for anyone who’s ever felt they didn’t belong

William McInnes, Herald Sun
September 29, 2016 9:00pm

SOMETIMES life seems a bit much. The world a cold place. And it’s because of this; it’s okay being swept up in a wonderful event that seems a little incredulous.

AFL is probably more a part of the entertainment industry now than it is a sport, where clinical decisions mean the difference not just between winning and losing but the fate of millions of dollars and business organisations.

But sometimes a moment comes along making you realise footy means a lot more than dollars and business.

The Western Bulldogs are as much of a business organisation as any other AFL club and every team in the league has myth, history and tradition.

But the Doggies are a funny team simply because they’ve given so little in terms of on-field success to their supporters over the years.

Perennial heartbreakers — yet I don’t know of any former Bulldogs supporters. People stick with them through thick and thin.

I remember watching with my young son Hawthorn thrash the Doggies lifeless on a wet afternoon in Tasmania.

Late in the final quarter I couldn’t bare it any longer and went to turn the channel before the Hawks racked up a ton lead. My son screamed out, “No Daddy, the Doggies can still come back!”.

I shook my head, sat down and smiled. The Hawks rolled on. That’s the sort of mad love of the Dogs engender.

b122c6e10b13149209c9929a648c9b4f

Fans turn out in force to watch The Western Bulldogs final training session at Whitten Oval. Picture: Alex Coppel

I’ve a friend who says the Bulldogs make a fuss of what legends they have to compensate for this lack of success.

Like Teddy Whitten. Yet what a legend. I met him once crossing Barkly St in Footscray.

He called out to me like he was leading cavalry charge. “Hey son! You there! Well done on the telly. Well done.”

And on a zebra crossing he shook my hand so hard I thought he’d turned it into bowl of mashed potato. Then he took off along the opposite side of the street with people calling out to him and him booming back.

And his statue. Not long after its unveiling, after watching a training session one early evening with a big moon rising, my son and I looked up at that exuberant figure.

“He’s happy. Is he dancing?” my toddler son asked.

“No, he’s kicking,” I said.

“He’s kicking the moon into the sky,” my boy said.

And I laughed; it was a wonderful, magical moment. A Bulldogs moment.

And that’s why it’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies tomorrow.

For anybody who’s been told they don’t belong, or weren’t good enough, or were there just to make up the numbers, the Doggies story is there for you.

f210b7ed2a241249c59939f10487b6db

It’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies on Saturday, writes William McInnes.

For supporters of other clubs who’ve grown used to September success, imagine what it must have been like when you didn’t think you’d get there.

Imagine what it was like for Rodney. An old coot who was a fixture of West Footscray where I lived with my family. A balding, birdlike man who’d walk about in white T-shirt, dark trousers and slippers. Mostly, you’d see him at the local supermarket, perched on a bench by the chewy machine and the carpet cleaners.

He’d sit and size people up, sensing if they were up for a chat, waiting for one of his “regulars” to talk to him. The conversations were always the same.

His part would invariably start with a hearty, “‘G’day there! G’day!”. And then The Doggies.

How they’d gone, how they would go and, even if the results had been bad and the future grim, Rodney would end the chat with: “Go Dogs. We love Doggies, don’t we, Go Dogs!”

He was a presence in my kids’ life from the time they were babies, and mine for over 25 years. He never seemed to age or change.

And through it all, even though he seemed to have little to show, he was always eternally optimistic and full of love for the Doggies. And he made people smile.

He died this year. At home alone. I, like many others, went down to that ordinary supermarket and put a card and some flowers on the bench. The cards and flowers have gone, but the suburb being this odd, wonderful place, a plaque was put above the bench with Rodney’s name on it.

Rodney Bright.

Bright. What a lovely name for lovely old coot.

137b932871a2e05a9c43444fc103edb4

West Footscray’s Rodney Bright was full of love for the Bulldogs.

Around it now are Bulldogs streamers, posters and signs declaring WOOF WOOF.

On the night the Doggies beat the Giants to get to the Grand Final, my phone buzzed with messages.

The one I remember most said simply, “One more. One more for Rodney. We love the Doggies”.

Whatever happens tomorrow there’ll be tears. The Swans are a great club and formidable opponent, but the Dogs are more than just a sentimental pick.

They’re the team whose legend kicks the moon up into the sky. A team reminding us we are good enough and we do belong.

A team who made a bloke with almost nothing happy, and he passed that happiness to the people of his community.

Go Doggies. One more. For Rodney.

WILLIAM MCINNES IS AN ACTOR AND AUTHOR WHOSE LATEST BOOK FULL BORE IS OUT ON OCTOBER 31.
:(... i remember that old fella, saw him many many times at sims on barkley street. My wife once commented as we walked out, and headed for the car.

"Bub, that old bloke looked like he was jumping out of his skin to talk to you, i watched him try and muster the courage to approach you, but stood back grinning instead." I laughed and thought she was taking the piss, told her he was always at sims chatting with someone. I was most probably wearing my bulldog cap at the time, and reading this article suggests she wasn't being cheeky. Wish i had been more observant.

His passing explains why i haven't seen him for a fair while. As a born and bred west footscray boy, learning about Rodney makes me proud, but also very sad. The strangers you know... and yet do not.
 
SEPTEMBER 29 2016 - 8:07PM
Emma Quayle
Marcus Bontempelli took his mother to the Brownlow. When he moved out of home he moved in with one of his sisters. He decided to become an anti-violence ambassador because he could, because the crime statistics he heard about worried him so much. He never got into trouble for talking in the school library and he looked after his Year 7 "buddy". He's polite, he's well-mannered and one of the very big reasons the Western Bulldogs have made it all the way to grand final day.

Is he perfect? Yes, says one teammate. "You know what, he literally is the perfect human," said Jake Stringer. "He's so nice. He's too nice. It's almost sad, how nice he is. It's like, be in a bad mood for once." Tom Liberatore agrees, in his own affectionate way. "He's not that good at footy," he said. "He's got a horrible hair cut. He's pretty ugly; big schnoz. He is pretty shy with the girls, he needs to find a good woman. But he's a good Italian boy, like me."


The Bulldogs spoke to a long list of people, while trying to work out whether Bontempelli was the player they most wanted to pick at No.4 in the draft three years ago. His parents. His coaches. His home room teacher at Marcellin, and even the librarian. Their answers were all the same: he was friendly, respectful, well spoken. A listener; an optimist. "They were glowing," said Simon Dalrymple, the Bulldogs' recruiting manager. "All of them. And we did a fair bit of work."

There was something else they needed to know, though: whether all that pleasantness was matched by the desire, drive and determination he would need to become the player he looked like he could be. Dalrymple suspected he did; he had watched him play, after all. He had also played cricket against two of his uncles on his mother's side, and knew them to be tough, unrelenting competitors. Those were some of the things he came back to, after interviewing Bontempelli himself.

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Marcus Bontempelli with his mum Geraldine at the Brownlow. Photo: Vince Caligiuri
"His last game for the year was a fascinating one and it's become a big lesson for our recruiting team, because he had a shocker. He got tagged, he didn't handle it well, then we spoke to him a few weeks later and the way he was explaining it didn't match up with what happened in the game," Dalrymple said. "He wasn't making anything up, he was just cliches, and when we said to him 'OK, have a look at this vision', and showed it to him, you could almost see him start to think, 'wow, this is fair dinkum'.

"It was a lesson for us because his answers weren't great, but being tagged was new to him. He'd had no help and it had never really happened before. We had to put some context around it and go back to his body of work, and what did come through with him was how much he cared. He had a real desire to want to get better and you see it with him now, he does all the one percenters. He didn't want to be good, he wanted to be really good."

1475143650823.jpg

Mr Perfect? Marcus Bontempelli has been described by Bulldogs teammate Jake Stringer as "the perfect human". Photo: Michael Dodge
He still does. But for reasons he did not know, back then. Bontempelli arrived at the Bulldogs with no real idea of what he might be able to achieve in his first few years; he had to get started before he could work all that out. He barracked for Richmond as a kid, and knew very little about his club's story when he got there. But the more he has found out the more he has wanted to know, and the more he has felt like part of something much, much bigger than him.

Bontempelli likes it when supporters tell him how things used to be. He watched the Year of the Dog documentary with a group of his teammates. He calls his club's past players servicemen and when he meets and talks to them wants to know how their passion for the club began and then grew. Every time he speaks to one of them, they seem to remember something new.

1475143650823.jpg

Passionate: Marcus Bontempelli is a big reason the Bulldogs have made the grand final. Photo: Getty Images
"When you get drafted you're happy to be part of any club. But as soon as you get there you want to become part of the club and feel like part of the family and that's one thing I'm grateful I was able to experience early in the piece. It didn't take me long to feel like this is my club and for us to feel like it's our club," he said.

"You come here and you meet past players, you meet long-serving players, you meet all the diehards and the fans. They're the fabric of the club and they're the history, really, just talking to them and seeing them around and working out for ourselves what the identity of the club is.

"Of course you come in wanting to develop and learn and be as good as you can be, but it's a different thing when you start to really care about the club and what it's been through and what the people who come before you have experienced over time. You start to understand why you're really doing it and why it matters to people and why the things that we do mean so much to them."

That's this week, but all the ones leading up to it, too. "Life is a balance and so is footy and I'm not going to say we owe it to ourselves this week, but we've put ourselves in a fortunate position and it's not just us who have contributed to that, there are so many people over so many years who have done that," said Bontempelli.

He's not that good at footy. He's got a horrible hair cut.
Tom Liberatore

"That's how I feel. When you get drafted, just playing footy is the biggest thing and the most important thing in your life. Now, playing footy for this club matters more. That might sound like a cliche or it might not make sense. But that's how it feels to me."
 
SEPTEMBER 29 2016 - 8:07PM
Emma Quayle
Marcus Bontempelli took his mother to the Brownlow. When he moved out of home he moved in with one of his sisters. He decided to become an anti-violence ambassador because he could, because the crime statistics he heard about worried him so much. He never got into trouble for talking in the school library and he looked after his Year 7 "buddy". He's polite, he's well-mannered and one of the very big reasons the Western Bulldogs have made it all the way to grand final day.

Is he perfect? Yes, says one teammate. "You know what, he literally is the perfect human," said Jake Stringer. "He's so nice. He's too nice. It's almost sad, how nice he is. It's like, be in a bad mood for once." Tom Liberatore agrees, in his own affectionate way. "He's not that good at footy," he said. "He's got a horrible hair cut. He's pretty ugly; big schnoz. He is pretty shy with the girls, he needs to find a good woman. But he's a good Italian boy, like me."


The Bulldogs spoke to a long list of people, while trying to work out whether Bontempelli was the player they most wanted to pick at No.4 in the draft three years ago. His parents. His coaches. His home room teacher at Marcellin, and even the librarian. Their answers were all the same: he was friendly, respectful, well spoken. A listener; an optimist. "They were glowing," said Simon Dalrymple, the Bulldogs' recruiting manager. "All of them. And we did a fair bit of work."

There was something else they needed to know, though: whether all that pleasantness was matched by the desire, drive and determination he would need to become the player he looked like he could be. Dalrymple suspected he did; he had watched him play, after all. He had also played cricket against two of his uncles on his mother's side, and knew them to be tough, unrelenting competitors. Those were some of the things he came back to, after interviewing Bontempelli himself.

1475143650823.jpg

Marcus Bontempelli with his mum Geraldine at the Brownlow. Photo: Vince Caligiuri
"His last game for the year was a fascinating one and it's become a big lesson for our recruiting team, because he had a shocker. He got tagged, he didn't handle it well, then we spoke to him a few weeks later and the way he was explaining it didn't match up with what happened in the game," Dalrymple said. "He wasn't making anything up, he was just cliches, and when we said to him 'OK, have a look at this vision', and showed it to him, you could almost see him start to think, 'wow, this is fair dinkum'.

"It was a lesson for us because his answers weren't great, but being tagged was new to him. He'd had no help and it had never really happened before. We had to put some context around it and go back to his body of work, and what did come through with him was how much he cared. He had a real desire to want to get better and you see it with him now, he does all the one percenters. He didn't want to be good, he wanted to be really good."

1475143650823.jpg

Mr Perfect? Marcus Bontempelli has been described by Bulldogs teammate Jake Stringer as "the perfect human". Photo: Michael Dodge
He still does. But for reasons he did not know, back then. Bontempelli arrived at the Bulldogs with no real idea of what he might be able to achieve in his first few years; he had to get started before he could work all that out. He barracked for Richmond as a kid, and knew very little about his club's story when he got there. But the more he has found out the more he has wanted to know, and the more he has felt like part of something much, much bigger than him.

Bontempelli likes it when supporters tell him how things used to be. He watched the Year of the Dog documentary with a group of his teammates. He calls his club's past players servicemen and when he meets and talks to them wants to know how their passion for the club began and then grew. Every time he speaks to one of them, they seem to remember something new.

1475143650823.jpg

Passionate: Marcus Bontempelli is a big reason the Bulldogs have made the grand final. Photo: Getty Images
"When you get drafted you're happy to be part of any club. But as soon as you get there you want to become part of the club and feel like part of the family and that's one thing I'm grateful I was able to experience early in the piece. It didn't take me long to feel like this is my club and for us to feel like it's our club," he said.

"You come here and you meet past players, you meet long-serving players, you meet all the diehards and the fans. They're the fabric of the club and they're the history, really, just talking to them and seeing them around and working out for ourselves what the identity of the club is.

"Of course you come in wanting to develop and learn and be as good as you can be, but it's a different thing when you start to really care about the club and what it's been through and what the people who come before you have experienced over time. You start to understand why you're really doing it and why it matters to people and why the things that we do mean so much to them."

That's this week, but all the ones leading up to it, too. "Life is a balance and so is footy and I'm not going to say we owe it to ourselves this week, but we've put ourselves in a fortunate position and it's not just us who have contributed to that, there are so many people over so many years who have done that," said Bontempelli.

He's not that good at footy. He's got a horrible hair cut.
Tom Liberatore

"That's how I feel. When you get drafted, just playing footy is the biggest thing and the most important thing in your life. Now, playing footy for this club matters more. That might sound like a cliche or it might not make sense. But that's how it feels to me."
Love Libba. Great sense of humour
 
AFL Grand Final: Ted Whitten Jnr says his dad would be proud of Western Bulldogs team
PETER ROLFE, Herald Sun
September 29, 2016 9:00pm

THE son of Bulldogs legend Ted Whitten reckons his dad would be as proud of the red, white and blue blokes who run on to the MCG tomorrow as any Footscray team he played for.

Whitten Sr was captain-coach when the Bulldogs last played in a Grand Final in 1961 and won best-and-fairest five times, including that year and in their sole 1954 premiership season.

As Victorians climb aboard the Bulldogs’ bandwagon, Ted Whitten Jr said the current crop of players embodied the same fighting qualities that defined Footscray in their glory years with his dad.

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Ted Whitten Jnr with a photo of his dad Ted Whitten ahead of the Grand Final. Picture: Mark Stewart

“I’m sure he would be proud of the club and the terrific way the team is playing,’’ he said. “He’d be really pleased and proud as punch.

“We haven’t made a Grand Final since he was captain-coach and we’ve been knocked out of seven preliminary finals, so it’s great to be back playing for a premiership.’’

Whitten Jr played 144 matches for the Bulldogs and represented Victoria in the Big V jumper his dad held so dearly.

In flashes of sporting goodwill, Bulldogs fans have this week been stopped in the streets by strangers wanting to wish them well and proclaim they too will be Dogs for a day.

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Ted Whitten Jnr ahead of the Grand Final. Picture: Mark Stewart
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Ted Whitten and Wally Donald with Footscray’s 1954 premiership cup in 1990.
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Footscray legend Ted Whitten in 1964. Picture: HWT archival negative

Whitten Jr said it was “just amazing’’ how Bulldogs fever had gripped the nation.

“The Bulldogs have got everyone on board,’’ he said. “Everyone is enjoying the fairytale, the style of football is exciting and we’ve been starved for success, so it’s been great for the supporters and it’s great for the club.’’

Sydney will start favourite in its third Grand Final in five years, but Whitten Jr said “people are just willing’’ the Bulldogs on. “Who knows what they can do on Saturday with the support of half of the country?’’ he said.

“They can do it — my word they can.’’

Footscray greats Doug Reynolds, Ron Stockman and Angus Abbey remember their 1954 Grand Final triumph like it was yesterday.

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1954 Bulldogs premiership players Angus Abbey, Doug Reynolds and Ron Stockman, with grandson Shaun, during the Western Bulldogs training session at Whitten Oval. Picture: Hamish Blair

The men all lived within 2km of Western Oval, part of code rules of playing for the club where you lived, and got match payments the equivalent of $10 a game.

Although the club has endured the longest flag drought in football, the trio believes today’s Doggies can prevail tomorrow. “It’s unbelievable, it really is,” Reynolds said of the 2016 team.

The mates said memories of their flag win 62 years ago, complete with crowds flowing on to the playing surface as stands were being built for the 1956 Olympics, were indelible. “But it’s about time they had another win,” Stockman added.

A 1962-64 Footscray footballer, Rod Coutts, said he and several past players had missed out on Grand Final tickets. “It’s very disappointing,” he said.
 
SEPTEMBER 29 2016 - 8:07PM
Emma Quayle
Marcus Bontempelli took his mother to the Brownlow. When he moved out of home he moved in with one of his sisters. He decided to become an anti-violence ambassador because he could, because the crime statistics he heard about worried him so much. He never got into trouble for talking in the school library and he looked after his Year 7 "buddy". He's polite, he's well-mannered and one of the very big reasons the Western Bulldogs have made it all the way to grand final day.

Is he perfect? Yes, says one teammate. "You know what, he literally is the perfect human," said Jake Stringer. "He's so nice. He's too nice. It's almost sad, how nice he is. It's like, be in a bad mood for once." Tom Liberatore agrees, in his own affectionate way. "He's not that good at footy," he said. "He's got a horrible hair cut. He's pretty ugly; big schnoz. He is pretty shy with the girls, he needs to find a good woman. But he's a good Italian boy, like me."


The Bulldogs spoke to a long list of people, while trying to work out whether Bontempelli was the player they most wanted to pick at No.4 in the draft three years ago. His parents. His coaches. His home room teacher at Marcellin, and even the librarian. Their answers were all the same: he was friendly, respectful, well spoken. A listener; an optimist. "They were glowing," said Simon Dalrymple, the Bulldogs' recruiting manager. "All of them. And we did a fair bit of work."

There was something else they needed to know, though: whether all that pleasantness was matched by the desire, drive and determination he would need to become the player he looked like he could be. Dalrymple suspected he did; he had watched him play, after all. He had also played cricket against two of his uncles on his mother's side, and knew them to be tough, unrelenting competitors. Those were some of the things he came back to, after interviewing Bontempelli himself.

1475143650823.jpg

Marcus Bontempelli with his mum Geraldine at the Brownlow. Photo: Vince Caligiuri
"His last game for the year was a fascinating one and it's become a big lesson for our recruiting team, because he had a shocker. He got tagged, he didn't handle it well, then we spoke to him a few weeks later and the way he was explaining it didn't match up with what happened in the game," Dalrymple said. "He wasn't making anything up, he was just cliches, and when we said to him 'OK, have a look at this vision', and showed it to him, you could almost see him start to think, 'wow, this is fair dinkum'.

"It was a lesson for us because his answers weren't great, but being tagged was new to him. He'd had no help and it had never really happened before. We had to put some context around it and go back to his body of work, and what did come through with him was how much he cared. He had a real desire to want to get better and you see it with him now, he does all the one percenters. He didn't want to be good, he wanted to be really good."

1475143650823.jpg

Mr Perfect? Marcus Bontempelli has been described by Bulldogs teammate Jake Stringer as "the perfect human". Photo: Michael Dodge
He still does. But for reasons he did not know, back then. Bontempelli arrived at the Bulldogs with no real idea of what he might be able to achieve in his first few years; he had to get started before he could work all that out. He barracked for Richmond as a kid, and knew very little about his club's story when he got there. But the more he has found out the more he has wanted to know, and the more he has felt like part of something much, much bigger than him.

Bontempelli likes it when supporters tell him how things used to be. He watched the Year of the Dog documentary with a group of his teammates. He calls his club's past players servicemen and when he meets and talks to them wants to know how their passion for the club began and then grew. Every time he speaks to one of them, they seem to remember something new.

1475143650823.jpg

Passionate: Marcus Bontempelli is a big reason the Bulldogs have made the grand final. Photo: Getty Images
"When you get drafted you're happy to be part of any club. But as soon as you get there you want to become part of the club and feel like part of the family and that's one thing I'm grateful I was able to experience early in the piece. It didn't take me long to feel like this is my club and for us to feel like it's our club," he said.

"You come here and you meet past players, you meet long-serving players, you meet all the diehards and the fans. They're the fabric of the club and they're the history, really, just talking to them and seeing them around and working out for ourselves what the identity of the club is.

"Of course you come in wanting to develop and learn and be as good as you can be, but it's a different thing when you start to really care about the club and what it's been through and what the people who come before you have experienced over time. You start to understand why you're really doing it and why it matters to people and why the things that we do mean so much to them."

That's this week, but all the ones leading up to it, too. "Life is a balance and so is footy and I'm not going to say we owe it to ourselves this week, but we've put ourselves in a fortunate position and it's not just us who have contributed to that, there are so many people over so many years who have done that," said Bontempelli.

He's not that good at footy. He's got a horrible hair cut.
Tom Liberatore

"That's how I feel. When you get drafted, just playing footy is the biggest thing and the most important thing in your life. Now, playing footy for this club matters more. That might sound like a cliche or it might not make sense. But that's how it feels to me."
What a champion young man, Champion role model for our young supporters
 
877b94561ca46ab71d2e73ec2a60b6c2


William McInnes: The Doggies story is for anyone who’s ever felt they didn’t belong

William McInnes, Herald Sun
September 29, 2016 9:00pm

SOMETIMES life seems a bit much. The world a cold place. And it’s because of this; it’s okay being swept up in a wonderful event that seems a little incredulous.

AFL is probably more a part of the entertainment industry now than it is a sport, where clinical decisions mean the difference not just between winning and losing but the fate of millions of dollars and business organisations.

But sometimes a moment comes along making you realise footy means a lot more than dollars and business.

The Western Bulldogs are as much of a business organisation as any other AFL club and every team in the league has myth, history and tradition.

But the Doggies are a funny team simply because they’ve given so little in terms of on-field success to their supporters over the years.

Perennial heartbreakers — yet I don’t know of any former Bulldogs supporters. People stick with them through thick and thin.

I remember watching with my young son Hawthorn thrash the Doggies lifeless on a wet afternoon in Tasmania.

Late in the final quarter I couldn’t bare it any longer and went to turn the channel before the Hawks racked up a ton lead. My son screamed out, “No Daddy, the Doggies can still come back!”.

I shook my head, sat down and smiled. The Hawks rolled on. That’s the sort of mad love of the Dogs engender.

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Fans turn out in force to watch The Western Bulldogs final training session at Whitten Oval. Picture: Alex Coppel

I’ve a friend who says the Bulldogs make a fuss of what legends they have to compensate for this lack of success.

Like Teddy Whitten. Yet what a legend. I met him once crossing Barkly St in Footscray.

He called out to me like he was leading cavalry charge. “Hey son! You there! Well done on the telly. Well done.”

And on a zebra crossing he shook my hand so hard I thought he’d turned it into bowl of mashed potato. Then he took off along the opposite side of the street with people calling out to him and him booming back.

And his statue. Not long after its unveiling, after watching a training session one early evening with a big moon rising, my son and I looked up at that exuberant figure.

“He’s happy. Is he dancing?” my toddler son asked.

“No, he’s kicking,” I said.

“He’s kicking the moon into the sky,” my boy said.

And I laughed; it was a wonderful, magical moment. A Bulldogs moment.

And that’s why it’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies tomorrow.

For anybody who’s been told they don’t belong, or weren’t good enough, or were there just to make up the numbers, the Doggies story is there for you.

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It’s OK hoping for the best for the Doggies on Saturday, writes William McInnes.

For supporters of other clubs who’ve grown used to September success, imagine what it must have been like when you didn’t think you’d get there.

Imagine what it was like for Rodney. An old coot who was a fixture of West Footscray where I lived with my family. A balding, birdlike man who’d walk about in white T-shirt, dark trousers and slippers. Mostly, you’d see him at the local supermarket, perched on a bench by the chewy machine and the carpet cleaners.

He’d sit and size people up, sensing if they were up for a chat, waiting for one of his “regulars” to talk to him. The conversations were always the same.

His part would invariably start with a hearty, “‘G’day there! G’day!”. And then The Doggies.

How they’d gone, how they would go and, even if the results had been bad and the future grim, Rodney would end the chat with: “Go Dogs. We love Doggies, don’t we, Go Dogs!”

He was a presence in my kids’ life from the time they were babies, and mine for over 25 years. He never seemed to age or change.

And through it all, even though he seemed to have little to show, he was always eternally optimistic and full of love for the Doggies. And he made people smile.

He died this year. At home alone. I, like many others, went down to that ordinary supermarket and put a card and some flowers on the bench. The cards and flowers have gone, but the suburb being this odd, wonderful place, a plaque was put above the bench with Rodney’s name on it.

Rodney Bright.

Bright. What a lovely name for lovely old coot.

137b932871a2e05a9c43444fc103edb4

West Footscray’s Rodney Bright was full of love for the Bulldogs.

Around it now are Bulldogs streamers, posters and signs declaring WOOF WOOF.

On the night the Doggies beat the Giants to get to the Grand Final, my phone buzzed with messages.

The one I remember most said simply, “One more. One more for Rodney. We love the Doggies”.

Whatever happens tomorrow there’ll be tears. The Swans are a great club and formidable opponent, but the Dogs are more than just a sentimental pick.

They’re the team whose legend kicks the moon up into the sky. A team reminding us we are good enough and we do belong.

A team who made a bloke with almost nothing happy, and he passed that happiness to the people of his community.

Go Doggies. One more. For Rodney.

WILLIAM MCINNES IS AN ACTOR AND AUTHOR WHOSE LATEST BOOK FULL BORE IS OUT ON OCTOBER 31.
Beautiful. Bevo will probably read this to the players.
 
SEPTEMBER 29 2016 - 8:07PM
Emma Quayle
Marcus Bontempelli took his mother to the Brownlow. When he moved out of home he moved in with one of his sisters. He decided to become an anti-violence ambassador because he could, because the crime statistics he heard about worried him so much. He never got into trouble for talking in the school library and he looked after his Year 7 "buddy". He's polite, he's well-mannered and one of the very big reasons the Western Bulldogs have made it all the way to grand final day.

Is he perfect? Yes, says one teammate. "You know what, he literally is the perfect human," said Jake Stringer. "He's so nice. He's too nice. It's almost sad, how nice he is. It's like, be in a bad mood for once." Tom Liberatore agrees, in his own affectionate way. "He's not that good at footy," he said. "He's got a horrible hair cut. He's pretty ugly; big schnoz. He is pretty shy with the girls, he needs to find a good woman. But he's a good Italian boy, like me."


The Bulldogs spoke to a long list of people, while trying to work out whether Bontempelli was the player they most wanted to pick at No.4 in the draft three years ago. His parents. His coaches. His home room teacher at Marcellin, and even the librarian. Their answers were all the same: he was friendly, respectful, well spoken. A listener; an optimist. "They were glowing," said Simon Dalrymple, the Bulldogs' recruiting manager. "All of them. And we did a fair bit of work."

There was something else they needed to know, though: whether all that pleasantness was matched by the desire, drive and determination he would need to become the player he looked like he could be. Dalrymple suspected he did; he had watched him play, after all. He had also played cricket against two of his uncles on his mother's side, and knew them to be tough, unrelenting competitors. Those were some of the things he came back to, after interviewing Bontempelli himself.

1475143650823.jpg

Marcus Bontempelli with his mum Geraldine at the Brownlow. Photo: Vince Caligiuri
"His last game for the year was a fascinating one and it's become a big lesson for our recruiting team, because he had a shocker. He got tagged, he didn't handle it well, then we spoke to him a few weeks later and the way he was explaining it didn't match up with what happened in the game," Dalrymple said. "He wasn't making anything up, he was just cliches, and when we said to him 'OK, have a look at this vision', and showed it to him, you could almost see him start to think, 'wow, this is fair dinkum'.

"It was a lesson for us because his answers weren't great, but being tagged was new to him. He'd had no help and it had never really happened before. We had to put some context around it and go back to his body of work, and what did come through with him was how much he cared. He had a real desire to want to get better and you see it with him now, he does all the one percenters. He didn't want to be good, he wanted to be really good."

1475143650823.jpg

Mr Perfect? Marcus Bontempelli has been described by Bulldogs teammate Jake Stringer as "the perfect human". Photo: Michael Dodge
He still does. But for reasons he did not know, back then. Bontempelli arrived at the Bulldogs with no real idea of what he might be able to achieve in his first few years; he had to get started before he could work all that out. He barracked for Richmond as a kid, and knew very little about his club's story when he got there. But the more he has found out the more he has wanted to know, and the more he has felt like part of something much, much bigger than him.

Bontempelli likes it when supporters tell him how things used to be. He watched the Year of the Dog documentary with a group of his teammates. He calls his club's past players servicemen and when he meets and talks to them wants to know how their passion for the club began and then grew. Every time he speaks to one of them, they seem to remember something new.

1475143650823.jpg

Passionate: Marcus Bontempelli is a big reason the Bulldogs have made the grand final. Photo: Getty Images
"When you get drafted you're happy to be part of any club. But as soon as you get there you want to become part of the club and feel like part of the family and that's one thing I'm grateful I was able to experience early in the piece. It didn't take me long to feel like this is my club and for us to feel like it's our club," he said.

"You come here and you meet past players, you meet long-serving players, you meet all the diehards and the fans. They're the fabric of the club and they're the history, really, just talking to them and seeing them around and working out for ourselves what the identity of the club is.

"Of course you come in wanting to develop and learn and be as good as you can be, but it's a different thing when you start to really care about the club and what it's been through and what the people who come before you have experienced over time. You start to understand why you're really doing it and why it matters to people and why the things that we do mean so much to them."

That's this week, but all the ones leading up to it, too. "Life is a balance and so is footy and I'm not going to say we owe it to ourselves this week, but we've put ourselves in a fortunate position and it's not just us who have contributed to that, there are so many people over so many years who have done that," said Bontempelli.

He's not that good at footy. He's got a horrible hair cut.
Tom Liberatore

"That's how I feel. When you get drafted, just playing footy is the biggest thing and the most important thing in your life. Now, playing footy for this club matters more. That might sound like a cliche or it might not make sense. But that's how it feels to me."
""That's how I feel. When you get drafted, just playing footy is the biggest thing and the most important thing in your life. Now, playing footy for this club matters more. That might sound like a cliche or it might not make sense. But that's how it feels to me."

:rainbow::rainbow::rainbow:
 
Grand final-bound Bulldogs are more than an AFL club, they're a community
Tim Watts


The Western Bulldogs’ fairytale AFL grand final run is proof that life is better when lived as a part of something bigger than ourselves



The ‘Do it for Bob’ sign on the front window of the offices of federal MP Tim Watts, the local member for Gellibrand. The message references injured Bulldogs captain Robert Murphy, who won’t play in Saturday’s AFL grand final. Photograph: Darrian Traynor/Getty Images
Friday 30 September 2016 06.30 AEST

https://www.theguardian.com/sport/2...-than-an-afl-club-theyre-a-community#comments
What a glorious time it is to be alive and in Footscray. It’s AFL grand final week and Western Bulldogs fans have been performing the rituals of the lead up to the big game with the enthusiasm of kids experiencing it for the first time.

You only have to look at the #PaintTheTown hashtag on Twitter to see what this means to the community. Houses, fences, pubs, shops, cars, MPs offices and even horses have all been painted red white and blue across the West. After 55 years, seven painful preliminary final losses, too many wooden spoons and one near merger, it’s been joyous.

Long-time Bulldogs fan Mark Seymour said on his Facebook page this week that the thing that makes Footscray special is that “everyone lives there”. You could certainly see what he meant by looking at the mass of red, white and blue who packed Whitten Oval for Thursday’s open training session. The faces of the fans are the faces of our community: diverse, battle scarred and, for today, exuberant.

Ratty woollen Footscray jerseys that looked like they might have gotten a run in the ’61 Grand Final mingled with women who came to the Dogs’ pack via the Horn of Africa and are now wearing red, white and blue Hijabs. Generations of Vietnamese-Australian families crowd the boundary line in front of a hill packed with hirsute hipsters who look like they could have come direct from Laneway Festival on the river’s edge. Men, women, children; they come from a thousand backgrounds, but they share a common belief in the team in front of them.

The usual paranoia and looming terror of being a Bulldogs fan is gone. As First Dog on the Moon has officially proclaimed, The Lid Is Off, and the fans are enjoying it. There’s a universal sense of satisfaction that the Dogs enter the game as underdogs. After three consecutive finals wins against significant odds, the Dogs fans much prefer it this way. Stuff the bookmakers. After what this team has endured this year, we know they can do anything. The Bulldog Tragician summed up the mood perfectly; Why not us?

The consensus is that Luke Beveridge’s boys aren’t just writing their own history, they are writing their own fairytales. The crowd is abuzz at the wonder of it all. There are magical stories everywhere you look on the training track.

Lin Jong, backing up from a best on ground performance for Footscray in last week’s VFL grand final, but just 21 days from a broken collar bone, moves freely. Surely he won’t play? But wouldn’t it be something if he did? Clay Smith is looking indestructible after the psychological torture of three (three!) knee reconstructions. After his performances of the past month he’s a strong chance for the Norm Smith medal.


FacebookTwitterPinterest
Federal MP’s and Bulldogs fans Terri Butler, Tim Watts and Julian Hill getting into the AFL finals spirit at parliament house, Canberra. Photograph: Mike Bowers for the Guardian
There’s Tom Liberatore, the favourite son with the chance to redeem what was denied to his father. Or Liam Picken and Josh Dunkley, the overlooked sons of greats at other clubs, who have the chance to forge their own greatness with the Dogs. Marcus Bontempelli, the kid who teammates nicknamed “Footch” in promise of future glories just last year, already plays like one of the greats at just 20 years of age. And finally the old firm, Mathew Boyd, Dale Morris and injured Bob Murphy, the backline experience that gives the team its connection with the past and a solidarity that transcends the pups’ raw talent.

This is what makes following Footscray really special. It’s more than a club, it’s a community. Whitten Oval has seen more than a few moments that have transcended footy in recent years. Some in the crowd remember the funeral of local legend and dim sim king, Jimmy Wong, at the ground earlier this year. Thousands from the local community turned out to hear “Sons of the West” played over the loud speakers as his coffin was carried across the ground. Wouldn’t Jimmy have loved to have heard it played at a grand final?

Thousands more turned out to the ground to see Steph Chiocci and the Western Bulldogs’ Womens team win the Hampson-Hardeman Cup – the realisation of club vice-president Susan Alberti’s dream and the birth of a thousand more dreams for the Daughters of the West. After the weekend’s VFL premiership, wouldn’t it be incredible for all three teams at the Bulldogs to be cup holders at the same time? For once, Bulldogs fans are daring to dream.

But my own favourite moments at Whitten Oval are the citizenship ceremonies they’ve held there. The Bulldogs are the only sporting organisation in Australia who deliver settlement services to assist newly-arrived migrants and refugees for the Department of Immigration. You think differently about the role that a football club can play in promoting a sense of belonging in a community after you’ve seen an African refugee, in tears of joy at having just received Australian citizenship, belting out the Bulldogs team song with as much gusto as the national anthem.

There is plenty cynicism about modern professional sports. From the deserved contempt for the international sportocrats to the less admirable snobbery of the “Sportsball” knockers. But this week is a reminder of what we love most about sports. It’s the human experience writ large, a microcosm of the dramas, challenges and successes of life, and a reminder that life is better when lived as a part of something bigger than ourselves. And for this week, there’s nothing better to be a part of than the Western Bulldogs.
 
:(... i remember that old fella, saw him many many times at sims on barkley street. My wife once commented as we walked out, and headed for the car.

"Bub, that old bloke looked like he was jumping out of his skin to talk to you, i watched him try and muster the courage to approach you, but stood back grinning instead." I laughed and thought she was taking the piss, told her he was always at sims chatting with someone. I was most probably wearing my bulldog cap at the time, and reading this article suggests she wasn't being cheeky. Wish i had been more observant.

His passing explains why i haven't seen him for a fair while. As a born and bred west footscray boy, learning about Rodney makes me proud, but also very sad. The strangers you know... and yet do not.

Rodney , was my wife's oldest cousin.
 
What an appalling and pathetic story. They predominantly spoke to some diehard supporter who has lived in Footscray for 30 years and she went on to describe the place as full of homeless people and ice addicts oh and lots of dark skinned people. I wish the media would every once in a while interview one of my mates who live in the west. WTF do they find these people.

Minus the casual racism it sounds like everything that rent a quote 'Mr Western Suburbs', Les Twentyman has ever said.

When I went to training on Tuesday, I was standing at the top of the stairs idly waiting for the players to come out onto the ground and was watching the cockroaches from the media scurry around looking for 'colour' for their evening pieces. They of course focused in on the cliched version of the wider public's perception of a Bulldogs supporter (if you have watched any news from the past few days you'd know exactly who I was talking about) and goaded him to perform like a trained seal. Which of course he was only to happy to do. Once the cameraman and reporter got what they wanted they walked away from the rube s******ing "that's ****ing gold!" as they went in search of the next stereotype.

As an aside, I'm finding it quite amusing the number of times I'm hearing " Hy heart says....but my head says..." cliche from the sheeple in the media. They do love a collective narrative and this one is a cliche bandwagon much larger than the one currently enveloping our club.
 
Grand final-bound Bulldogs are more than an AFL club, they're a community
Tim Watts


The Western Bulldogs’ fairytale AFL grand final run is proof that life is better when lived as a part of something bigger than ourselves



The ‘Do it for Bob’ sign on the front window of the offices of federal MP Tim Watts, the local member for Gellibrand. The message references injured Bulldogs captain Robert Murphy, who won’t play in Saturday’s AFL grand final. Photograph: Darrian Traynor/Getty Images
Friday 30 September 2016 06.30 AEST

What a glorious time it is to be alive and in Footscray. It’s AFL grand final week and Western Bulldogs fans have been performing the rituals of the lead up to the big game with the enthusiasm of kids experiencing it for the first time.

You only have to look at the #PaintTheTown hashtag on Twitter to see what this means to the community. Houses, fences, pubs, shops, cars, MPs offices and even horses have all been painted red white and blue across the West. After 55 years, seven painful preliminary final losses, too many wooden spoons and one near merger, it’s been joyous.

Long-time Bulldogs fan Mark Seymour said on his Facebook page this week that the thing that makes Footscray special is that “everyone lives there”. You could certainly see what he meant by looking at the mass of red, white and blue who packed Whitten Oval for Thursday’s open training session. The faces of the fans are the faces of our community: diverse, battle scarred and, for today, exuberant.

Ratty woollen Footscray jerseys that looked like they might have gotten a run in the ’61 Grand Final mingled with women who came to the Dogs’ pack via the Horn of Africa and are now wearing red, white and blue Hijabs. Generations of Vietnamese-Australian families crowd the boundary line in front of a hill packed with hirsute hipsters who look like they could have come direct from Laneway Festival on the river’s edge. Men, women, children; they come from a thousand backgrounds, but they share a common belief in the team in front of them.

The usual paranoia and looming terror of being a Bulldogs fan is gone. As First Dog on the Moon has officially proclaimed, The Lid Is Off, and the fans are enjoying it. There’s a universal sense of satisfaction that the Dogs enter the game as underdogs. After three consecutive finals wins against significant odds, the Dogs fans much prefer it this way. Stuff the bookmakers. After what this team has endured this year, we know they can do anything. The Bulldog Tragician summed up the mood perfectly; Why not us?

The consensus is that Luke Beveridge’s boys aren’t just writing their own history, they are writing their own fairytales. The crowd is abuzz at the wonder of it all. There are magical stories everywhere you look on the training track.

Lin Jong, backing up from a best on ground performance for Footscray in last week’s VFL grand final, but just 21 days from a broken collar bone, moves freely. Surely he won’t play? But wouldn’t it be something if he did? Clay Smith is looking indestructible after the psychological torture of three (three!) knee reconstructions. After his performances of the past month he’s a strong chance for the Norm Smith medal.


FacebookTwitterPinterest
Federal MP’s and Bulldogs fans Terri Butler, Tim Watts and Julian Hill getting into the AFL finals spirit at parliament house, Canberra. Photograph: Mike Bowers for the Guardian
There’s Tom Liberatore, the favourite son with the chance to redeem what was denied to his father. Or Liam Picken and Josh Dunkley, the overlooked sons of greats at other clubs, who have the chance to forge their own greatness with the Dogs. Marcus Bontempelli, the kid who teammates nicknamed “Footch” in promise of future glories just last year, already plays like one of the greats at just 20 years of age. And finally the old firm, Mathew Boyd, Dale Morris and injured Bob Murphy, the backline experience that gives the team its connection with the past and a solidarity that transcends the pups’ raw talent.

This is what makes following Footscray really special. It’s more than a club, it’s a community. Whitten Oval has seen more than a few moments that have transcended footy in recent years. Some in the crowd remember the funeral of local legend and dim sim king, Jimmy Wong, at the ground earlier this year. Thousands from the local community turned out to hear “Sons of the West” played over the loud speakers as his coffin was carried across the ground. Wouldn’t Jimmy have loved to have heard it played at a grand final?

Thousands more turned out to the ground to see Steph Chiocci and the Western Bulldogs’ Womens team win the Hampson-Hardeman Cup – the realisation of club vice-president Susan Alberti’s dream and the birth of a thousand more dreams for the Daughters of the West. After the weekend’s VFL premiership, wouldn’t it be incredible for all three teams at the Bulldogs to be cup holders at the same time? For once, Bulldogs fans are daring to dream.

But my own favourite moments at Whitten Oval are the citizenship ceremonies they’ve held there. The Bulldogs are the only sporting organisation in Australia who deliver settlement services to assist newly-arrived migrants and refugees for the Department of Immigration. You think differently about the role that a football club can play in promoting a sense of belonging in a community after you’ve seen an African refugee, in tears of joy at having just received Australian citizenship, belting out the Bulldogs team song with as much gusto as the national anthem.

There is plenty cynicism about modern professional sports. From the deserved contempt for the international sportocrats to the less admirable snobbery of the “Sportsball” knockers. But this week is a reminder of what we love most about sports. It’s the human experience writ large, a microcosm of the dramas, challenges and successes of life, and a reminder that life is better when lived as a part of something bigger than ourselves. And for this week, there’s nothing better to be a part of than the Western Bulldogs.

A friend used to work with Tim so I'd met him before.

Bumped into him after the dogs hawks game earlier this year at southern cross and chatted with him for ten minutes. Went to the game by himself, was shattered at the result and Bob's injury. A dogs supporter through and through - one of the few pollies who actually support the team in their electorate and a genuinely good bloke. And I'm a greens voter so have no reason to like the bloke!
 
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