OH, SO close again!

Our 25,013 fans provided an electric, finals-like atmosphere during the last term and nearly got us over the line. If you had closed your eyes when Pearcey kicked the ball out-on-the-full on the members’ wing or when McVeigh kicked the sealer late in the piece, you probably would have heard what sounded like 40,000 people groaning, such was the disappointment and at times, frustration.

It was a gutsy effort though.

But, I still haven’t seen us win a game ‘live’ this year!

It was only when we approached West Lakes Boulevard that I realised that the only game I had missed all season was against the Saints – our sole home win. And, when the siren went at 5:05pm, and I heard a pin drop in the outer, this unwanted streak continued.

Everyone has their own silly football superstitions. Sure, we always hear about the players avoiding the banner when they run out on the ground, listening to the same music before games or wearing their lucky jocks each week but we supporters are no different.

When you discover you sit next to a lady who admits to wearing teal underwear to games in the name of superstition, and another that says a little prayer in the last two minutes of a close game, you kind of realise what you’re dealing with.

My pre-game meal routine is scrutinised by these two women, ensuring that it wasn’t different to what I had last time we won. Last year there was a period of two months where I couldn’t switch from chowing down on the same ham, cheese, lettuce and onion sandwich before each game until after the Grand Final!

While my mates from the footy might have different opinions on who played well, who should be dropped and whether it’s going to rain or not, they share the same opinion on what is appropriate football superstition etiquette.

There is no bigger sinner among the group than the one who says we’re going to win before the final siren sounds. Until there’s at least a moderately chubby lady heard singing, my front-row mob thinks there’s still a game to be won – even if we’re up by fifteen goals!

And so when I said “it’s over, they won’t come back from this”, when Motty kicked his goal 14 minutes into the last quarter to put us in front by 5 points, I received a whack across the ears and a pen to sign a vow of silence. Standing up to celebrate Pearcey’s on-the-run kick from 15 metres out, only to realise he shanked it and just registered a behind also wasn’t appropriate. Nor was calling Dom’s kick across goal “Geelong (Round 21, 2007) all over again!” as it sailed and sailed... before colliding with the right-hand point post, in the dying moments of the game.

It’s not merely a matter of optimism and pessimism; some of our front-row crowd cross their fingers, legs and toes each time we have a set shot for goal and scream “miss it... miss it!” when the opposition have theirs. When O’Loughlin missed one he should have kicked late in the third it wasn’t because it came off his boot incorrectly or because of a misreading of a difficult breeze... but because my friend Margie said he would.

The final two minutes of the game were frantic on the field and just as anxious off it. In the dying stages of a tight game, you can apparently change the outcome simply by taking your jacket off. Just ask my front-row mob. It was the costliest error of this match.

When scores were levelled by Moore’s fourth quarter goal, I told my friends about my ‘winless curse’, and as I expected, every single one of them told me to “go home!” Of course I didn’t, and I wouldn’t, but when the final siren sounded it did get me thinking whether I should have...

Am I insane for even thinking this?

Could the result have been different because one supporter with an apparent curse entered the stadium? I guess I won’t know until we next win at home, hopefully against our old friend Nick Stevens and the Blues in a fortnight.

In the meantime we have the Freo game to look forward to this weekend. And, away from my superstitious mob I’m going to sit how I want, wear what I want, eat what I want, say what I want and (hopefully) watch the boys get the four points across the Nullarbor. (We desperately need to win!) If we’re down at half-time though I might, change everything I was doing and hunt down my teal jocks.

Just for superstition’s sake.

Matt the Member

PS What are some of your football superstitions? Let me know below…