Rituals. My old top; Richmond by club and name. Wanded: nothing to see here.
Footy friends and faces; a relic from a bygone era. Punt Road End. Pie. Petrol
Get around him. First goal. Elton performs. All downhill here from.
Kick it to me. Mog, my grandfather’s knitted head warmer, cousins, family, Jack kicking a goal. Locks.
Long faces, the people you meet. Online Tiger royalty. Half time…there’s always next year.
Last quarter heroics, none forth coming. Kids watch their last moments of Richmond for the year. 19th century fence, 20th century lights, 21st century stands. Same old Richmond.Last minute push, 9 points short, 20 minutes too late. Reality sets in, this Tiger gig is tough. Tears.
The best remedy, kick it out. Cousins, carpark
The sun sets on 2016. Love of the game wins out. This is where the game began, this is where we regroup and move forward.
Footy. Family. Four points missing. Jam doughnuts and kick-to-kick. We’ll be back next year.
Carn the Tigers
Always, always next year. Mind you, that period between seasons seem like 6 months in a leaky boat.
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