Where we belong
I remember watching Glenn Lazarus accept the NRL trophy when the Melbourne Storm won their 1999 Premiership. I can’t remember his exact words, so I’ll paraphrase.
He paid tribute to the Storm faithful. He said that he had always envied the crowds that the VFL/ AFL had enjoyed, and how grateful he was that his team had been adopted by the sports ravenous Melbourne public.
The same sporting passion, was extended to the Rebels last night, to the alleged niche sport, the youngest sibling in an Australian sporting landscape.
Through the haze of emotion and the Rebel Army’s ludicrously loud and passionate support of the Rebels (and a good dose of antagonism for the Brumbies), I noticed the 14,000-odd crowd were chanting as one, and I mean unison.
Chanting as one, we screamed and yelled at our team to find something more. We begged them to dig deep for another effort, and then another and another yet.
We implored our rag-tag team of imports and expats, veterans and whippets who wore navy and white on our behalf.
In front of an audience of hundreds of thousands of subscriber television viewers, in front of the Brumbies in whose mould our team had been poured by Master Coach Macqueen, the crowd and the team forged a bond.
They did their job, and we did ours.
We monstered the Brumbies in defence last night. Our players tackled themselves into the ground. They rattled ribcages and jarred heads. We roared our approval, treated the Brumbies with belittling disdain.
When Stirling Mortlock caught Cooper Vuna’s looping hail-mary inside ball at pace and sailed over the goal line, I indulged very dangerously and fleetingly in the notion that we could actually win.
I challenge each and everyone one of you to look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t thinking exactly the same thing, even if you didn’t want to say it at the time.
We daren’t say it, but we feel it. It’s not optimism. It’s not enthusiasm. It’s not even passion, even though you’re some of the most passionate people I know.
It’s called hope. You can’t buy it, you can’t breed it but we have it.
In fact, we’re full of it. The Rebel Army gets a little bigger each week, because we wear our hearts on our sleeve>We’re good sports, with a great sense of humour and a willingness to have a go out ourselves. That’s what I like about the Army.
I look forward to every Friday afternoon with the Rebel Army, not because they’re my mates but because after all these months I just know in my gut some of us will be life-long friends. It’s a place we rugby fans can just be in the zone, knowing the person next them believes just as much as they do.
I first heard the Lostprophets 18 months ago, it struck me that their new song “Where we belong” was good for rugby. It’s a rousing new metal anthem. I chose it as the soundtrack to our player slideshow. But this morning while I’m tapping away the words have a new meaning
“Take these storms away, start a brand new story
I’ll make it through each day, singing death or glory
Lord won’t answer me. I won’t let him bring me down.
Hold on, hold on we’re moving on
Where we belong, where we belong
My heart my soul, we stand alone.”
(You can listen/view the video clip here)
I guess my point is, we’ve been an online community for so long that we’ve almost failed to realise we’re not just people on a screen. Our team now takes the pitch weekly. Week in or week out, win or loss, we turn up together. We believe we belong. The motto of the army, on Facebook and on our website has been ‘on the March since 2009’, but I think we missing something.
We’ve been on the march together, and it’s a privilege.
See you on Saturday at the Turfbar.
Nicely put as ever Paul – my throat is still in recovery mode this afternoon!
It was a ridiculous game. When Cippers put through the first points, the entire stadium cheered like we won the game. But you’re right, when Stirling scored the first try, after the now-obligatory ‘going nuts’ I remember looking around at a few of us looking for that same ‘we couldn’t…surely?’ glint in the eye. Everyone had it. Even when the Brumbies scored *that* try, it didn’t go away.
The celebration after Danny kicked the goal and the siren went felt like it went on forever. I still don’t remember how long we were actually there for.
It was a win we had waited years for, and it was a privilege to share a bit of history with you fine folks.
I’ll put it in perspective for you Fazman, The game kicked off at 740, and went until about 930 what with half time and stoppages and such. The time stamp on my recording og the press conference reads 22:03. I reckon you guys must have been there almost half an hour after the game finished.
Great great read Paul!