Yet another Friday morning of university rears its ugly head around the corner, guarding me once again from a weekend of shenanigans.
Five months of the same thing has worked it’s way into the muscle memory within my brain, “Friday is just another weekday, and I want it to be over.”
But wait – there’s hope! A shining beacon of navy blue tinged hope has lit the way for a wanderlust of adventure from the steel bar dorms of Macleay College – the A-League’s return.
I’ve done my time and the wait is finally over as I begin the trek from uni towards the fabled Etihad Stadium, which has been starved of ‘real’ football action for a long, long time.
Along the way, I meet my fellow fans and soon to be bev demolishers over a side of corn chips and guacamole. My stomach grumbles in anticipation for the season ahead, or is that the Mexican… I don’t know, nor do I care as we find ourselves soon progressing through the city towards the promised land.
We come across some Western Sydney supporters and do the right thing in wishing them luck for the game, turning our head past the frosty relationships between the sets of supporters in the past. “No fights, not today,” we joke.
As we parade through a packed Melbourne Central, we begin our first bout of Victory chants.
“I AM A MELBOURNE FAN,” we bellow – quite ambiguously I might add to any tourists swinging through – as my chant echoes up four levels of stores, while the everyman gives our lot daggers.
What do they know – they’ve obviously never been to a Victory match before.
Our feet pound the pavement to the beat of the drum – yes we carry a drum around – and we find ourselves awash a sea of blue and white as our group meets up with the hundreds packed into our pub of choice, the Great Western Hotel. Let the pre-game celebrations get underway.
I summon the courage to begin the chants with a massive “COME ON MELBOURNE OLE,” which was – to my relief – then screamed back by the other fans downing the sweet nectar of the gods. The chants and the Carlton flow just as easily as each other; the percussion background acting as the frosty tap delivering us our beer with rhythm and consistency.
After the group had downed their fair share of drinks – and the lessons learned during my uni day were well and truly forgotten – we begun our march towards the stadium as one; the tension palpable as we await the A-League’s kick-off. Chants being sung, passion unrivaled, there really isn’t anything remotely similar in any other sport. Speaking of which…
The ‘Horto Magiko’ – taken from the passionate Panathinaikos supporters – was spine tinglingly echoed by the masses on the steps of Southern Cross. Never have I experienced anything like it, as goosebumps ran up my spine as the moment ran for what felt like an eternity.
By now we were more than amped up for the game, and as we walked across the bridge towards Etihad, we merged as one with the building crowd which was pouring into the stadium ahead of kick-off. The bottom level nears capacity as the sweet sound of the referee’s whistle sounds to ring in the start of the Aussie footballing year.
The North Terrace start in full voice as the Victory begin the game well, and it doesn’t take long for chanting to turn into absolute ecstasy as our big Frenchman endears himself to the home support in the best fashion possible. Matthieu Delpierre ghosts in from four-yards and 30,000 Victory fans go wild at once! I hug the man next to me in pure elation, and Victory are on fire!
The celebrations continue as Besart Berisha smashes his penalty home, quickly asserting his position atop the throne at Melbourne Victory. He’s done all the right things since his move, and his goal celebration typifies this as he smacks the Victory logo and salutes the fans as his successful battling sees us in control.
The fans let out an agonizing groan as Kosta Barbarouses has his shot saved, but it’s party time when Leigh Broxham hammers it home.
“Feed the Brox and, feed the Brox and, feed the Brox and he will score!”
This moment has been the build up of five months hard labour, but here we are in the terraces and it feels like an absolute dream. But when Mark Bridge pounces and pulls one back for the Wanderers, and a sense of uncertainty creeps in as we begin to talk amongst ourselves.
“We’ve seen this before,” people exclaim, thinking back to the game against Wellington early last year when they pulled it back from 3-0 to 3-2 and gave Victory a scare.
But Victory make it into half-time safely and all the better for my heart as well. We discuss our thoughts on the game as we finally get a chance to sit down and take in the action packed first-half. No sooner had it ended before the game had started again however as we stand as one to spur the Victory boys.
And just like that, the number one fan favourite of the club’s proud history delivers a K.O blow as Archie Thompson thumps the ball into the bottom corner for what feels like the millionth time. The chants of the North Terrace overpower the stadium, with fans from the south, west and east sides of the stadium joining in. “Archie Thompson, duh duh duh duh..”, is sweet music to the ears.
And the majority of the second half consists of similar chanting and celebrations, high and wide, as the supporters ride the pure wave of emotion all the way until the final whistle. The only break from watching the action is the mock Poznan from both the North and South terrace, which not so subtly teases the RBB with a classic case of “top banter.”
The Victory support leave the stadium chanting with smiles on their faces, wondering just how possibly the club managed to supersede the already sky-high expectations for season 2014-15.
But one thing’s for sure – The A-league is back bigger and ever, and the enticing moments as a fan aren’t stopping here.