I’M NOT sure when my antipathy towards Carlton became something more. Much, much more. Something organic. Hatred is nowhere near strong enough a word, and even loathing doesn’t describe the feeling I have for the old dark navy Blues. Dark, as in evil.

Okay, if I’m honest it was the preliminary final of 1999 that settled the deal. Of course it was. The one-point loss was appalling enough, but I spent the match alongside my 83-year-old father and five-year-old son marinated in spit, beer and obscenities from the Carlton Grog Squad standing a couple of rows behind us.

An abiding memory is of a fat bloke in a North Melbourne jumper dancing about in drunken delight with the Grog Squad on the final siren. He knew, as we all did, that North had the flag in the bag. To this day every Carlton supporter I know – and I know as few as possible – celebrates that victory more than any of the club’s 16 premierships.

My Essendon-Carlton memories stretch back to the Bombers’ win over the Blues in the 1962 grand final. I was on a red rattler going somewhere with my mother and father and heard the good news on the trannie.

By 1968, and the next grand final clash between the two, I was a member of the Essendon cheer squad. On the morning of the grand final, elements of the squad appeared on TV in glorious black and white, doing some of the chants. As a good Catholic schoolboy I blanched when they launched into “Are we good, are we good …” fearing that the word “bloody” would sully the telecast and my mum would ban me from the group. But they replaced it with “ruddy” and decorum – and my place in the squad – was preserved.

The game was a disaster. Essendon lost by three points after, as I recall, Wes Lofts gave Ted Fordham the kind of shove in the back that would draw a 15-week suspension in 2008 and took a mark that saved the game. Geoff Blethyn’s specs and speccies in his first game weren’t enough, and without injured captain Ken Fraser, the Dons fell short.

Somehow I made it into the rooms after the match and joined in the general weeping and wailing and cursing of umpires as Fraser and Alec Epis announced their retirements. “Kooka” probably made a long speech – well he would, wouldn’t he – but I can’t really remember.

For the next decade or so Carlton had the wood on Essendon. The lowlight was in 1975, when I stood in the outer at Windy Hill and watched the Blues pile on 14.1 in the second quarter.

And then came Kevin Sheedy.

In Sheeds’ first year, 1981, the Bombers had won 13 games in a row after a poor start to the season when they travelled to Princes Park in round 20. The Blues led by 26 points at the 20-minute mark of the last quarter when captain Mike Fitzpatrick got pinged for wasting time and Essendon was gifted a goal. Neale Daniher, shifted forward, banged on three and the Dons got up by a point. It was the first of 10 successive victories against Carlton.

The ‘Baby Bombers’ of 1993 provided an extraordinary, unexpected highlight. They had lost to Carlton by two points in a classic encounter in the qualifying final, but came out on grand final day and spanked Blue bottoms. I was in a small village in southern France, and listened in tears of joy to the last few minutes of the match as my wife held the phone to the television.

The 1999 preliminary final, for Carlton fans, seemed to bring redemption or revenge for 1993. Weird. I enjoyed, with all my heart, the flogging the Bombers gave Carlton in the 2000 prelim, but not for a moment would I consider it any kind of consolation for the events of the year before. Only a premiership win provides that. And 2000 also brought 90,000-plus to the MCG for an Essendon-Carlton home-and-away clash, which set the seal on a genuine, pulsating rivalry.

Both teams’ fortunes have slumped in recent years – what delight I took in waving a wooden spoon at the Carlton Grog Squad after the final match of 2002 when defeat confirmed the Blues at the bottom of the ladder. I haven’t bothered doing so more recently. Not enough wooden spoons to go around.

I’ll be at the ’G on Saturday night, and I’ll be nervous, because Essendon-Carlton clashes always seem to be tight even when the teams are at opposite ends of the ladder. Carlton’s record-breaking turnaround last season still hurts. I’ll bag Judd for making a wrong decision to join the Blues. Judd the dud. I’ll shout about tanking when Kreuzer gets a touch. I might even wave an incontinence pad at Fevola. And I’ll definitely make reference to Kouta the Gladiator. Such dignity. And above it all, I’ll thank the football gods – yep, the same ones that ‘touched’ Kouta – for putting Essendon and Carlton on this earth.