May 29, 2010. The Tiges were 0-9, the weather outside looked sheisen and I mused.... do I really want to drag my ass to the plies inducing aluminium seats of Footy Park to watch us go 0-10 while I get abused by a bunch of feral Port maggots? Hmmmmm....decisions...decisions. After some deliberation, I figured things couldn't get much worse, and hell, me missing a Tigs game in Adelaide was as rare as Nahas kicking one from outside 50. Also, I would ge to see Ben Cousins play, and I loved watching Lids go about his business. Off I went on the "footy express", the bus filled with Port maggots expecting to smash the lowly Tiges, giving me the stink eye as the bus rolled onto a dreary West Lakes Boulevard. With household names such as Mitch Farmer, Ben Nason (he kicked 3 I think) and Jeromey Webberley, the potential for an ugly day was certainly on the cards. Something strange happened that day. In all my years of going to Footy Park I had never seen so much surface water. The game was the ultimate arm wrestle. And damn, did the Tiges CRACK IN. Outgunned for talent no doubt, but the endeavour shown by the boys unusually donning the clash guernseys with the white patch on the back with black numbers was a sight for sore eyes. Shane Tuck played like a man possessed. Deledio, Cousins and a young Dustin Martin wanted the footy so much that Port players started to shirk one on one contests. Cotchin, King and Newman were beasts in the clutches. Nahas found a way to hit the scoreboard when it looked nigh impossible. A slender quarter time lead blew out to around 5 goals at the half. The few Richmond faithful were high fiving in the aisles...surely in these conditions we can't lose this? Can we? Despite a few scary moments in the third, the boys held their own, and at three quarter time the four goal lead looked not so much safe but at least we had the lead. We needn't have worried as we smashed them, broke them in the last with furious and manic attack on the ball and man. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. A bunch of men, playing for each other with a common purpose - nobody took a backward step. An eight goal win, against the odds. One of my all time favourite games. Damien Hardwick's first victory. The seeds were sown. I joined the small but passionate group of Tiger fans in the Checkside Tavern, and we sang the song over and over and over as we downed many sweet victory beers, much to the Port Power fans disgust. We took over the joint. I missed the last bus, had to get a Cab and the missus was not happy. She didn't understand. Fair enough. It was bloody worth it. That day was the seed. The players going all in for the coach. I'll never forget it.
