The collective heart of the nation breaks as Melbourne supporters experience the familiar feeling of their season being over before it really even started.
By Emma La Mari
The world is in chaos, each day sliding helplessly into the scenes of an all too familiar movie - each person their own protagonist. But amidst all the panic buying and horror stories on our newsfeeds last week, one glimmer of hope remained: the AFL season.
Emma watches from home as the Demons take on the Eagles.
Indeed for Melbourne supporters everywhere, making the best of a bad situation comes built into our DNA. As the most optimistic of supporters, we met the 2020 season with a familiar feeling of hope. After a 2019 season that we’d rather have erased from our memories, we faced this year truly believing this year would be different. Different it has been, but not in the way we could ever have imagined.
Our weekly pilgrimage to the 'G was the first to go. It’s okay, we thought. No crowds, no worries. We’re used to that - Melbourne plays to empty stadiums after Round 4 anyway.
Second was the announcement that the season itself was uncertain, just 24 hours out from the very first game. We barely had time to process the first stage of grief: denial, before we received the joyful news that our beloved game would go on.
The first few games of the season created a new normal, one that we could get used to. We missed the token shots of supporters in the stands, but eventually the elbow touches and socially-distanced team songs served as a reminder of the reality we were all choosing to ignore.
It was between the third and fourth quarters of the Brisbane Lions v Hawthorn game that the devastating news came. The news we knew was inevitable but that we hoped would be much further into the future, a problem for another day, another week. The news that created yet another chapter in our Australia sporting history books: The suspension of the season. During the last quarter, the players remained unaware of the announcement. It must have been nice to finish the game without knowing about the immediacy of the dark abyss that now forms our existence.
It became known that the Melbourne v West Coast game would be the last game of footy as we know it. As the game began we were again filled with the familiar hope that the Dees would give us one great game of footy. Not too much to ask for, just one solid attempt, knowing it would be their last for a while. Instead, they thought it appropriate to replay the agony of the 2018 prelim right before our eyes. The familiarity was both calming and heartbreaking at the same time. This was the Dees, doing what they do best. A poetic end to a short-lived season, with the sincere and innocent hope that maybe next year will be our year.
As I sit pondering what the next six months might look like, I can’t help but imagine the feeling of finally returning to the MCG. After all this is over, we will no doubt emerge stronger than ever, every seat will be full and crowds will roar like they never have before. This is the religion that many choose to follow and the return to our spiritual home will be something that I look forward to with great anticipation.
Every AFL supporter loves a great comeback story, but the next greatest comeback won’t be about a player, or a team; it will be about the league itself, about us. When life returns to normal, however long that may be, may we never again take for granted the electricity of the crowd, the adrenaline of a close game and the way that our national sport brings people together. The game we love has always been about the coveted holy grail, the premiership cup, but maybe this has taught us that the real joy comes from the sense of belonging, the shared experiences and a cold beer at half time.
Emma La Mari is a long suffering but truly faithful Dees supporter and MCC member, who will continue to look forward to the day that the MCG opens its heavenly gates once more.