The AFL’s statement on the club songs [Club Song Meltdown #2]

by Tom Briglia

After years of Patrick Keane copping the brunt of irate humans on Twitter, the League created the AFL House account so as to not have to deal with those fucking annoying fans. Yesterday it posted this:

Let’s have a look at this very patronising, oily statement.
“The AFL was approached by a number of clubs to provide minor updates to their songs.”
This number is not specified, and I would assume the number is either one or two – being Richmond (with the small correction taking the entire song down with it), and maybe Collingwood seeing what it might sound like. No other club has had lyric changes, aside bizarre introduction of Geelong’s second verse.
“In doing so, we offered all the clubs the ability to have a new recording, to offer stronger digital sound quality.”
“We offered all the clubs the ability to have a new recording” is an attempt to portray the AFL as benevolent and wanting to help the clubs achieve positive, Real Change ®.
“A number of the club songs are old recordings of diminishing quality.”
This doesn’t actually make any sense, and is the AFL trying to create an issue where there was none. The files played at the ground don’t lose quality. They’re digital files, and they’re to replicate, too. The only scenario(s) this is applicable to is if they’re being played off a cassette or vinyl record. Something’s up when Matt Thompson starts running with the employer’s line.
“Minor lyric changes were only made following requests from respective football clubs.”
Firstly, that’s not really the problem here. The songs now sound cheaply produced and outdated, and more hokey than the original versions ever will – more like Mike Brady Dodo commercial jingles. A well-paid, high-profile Kevin Bartlett wanting to keep Richmond at the front of the SEN news cycle via one incidental word in the Richmond song may have ultimately led to the AFL shitting on the history, nostalgia and meaning of the club songs en masse. These are celebrated parts of our game. They’re what we associate with some of the better moments of our lives as fans; indeed the Geelong song is vividly imprinted on my mind – I can picture exactly where I was, what I was looking at and how I was feeling when the siren went in the 2009 Grand Final and the Cats song starting booming across the MCG and signalled the end of what we thought for so long was going to be our year.
As for the St Kilda song, the drum thump that heralds its beginning has been reduced to a rattle made by a garish US high-school band. It’s not what I heard at the end of the 2005 Qualifying Final blasted through the TV speakers from Adelaide, nor after the final siren of the 2009 Preliminary Final that brought so much celebration and relief. Nor what I heard as the team ran out for the Grand Finals the following week and the following year.
I said yesterday that the AFL was at best hoping to get through this by weathering a huge amount of expressed and viable criticism, and riding on indifference. No one has said these changes are good. No fans or members requested them. I would hope the AFL is not looking to drive its fans into submission (see the night AFL Grand Final concept by stealth method), but I don’t see what else it is trying to do with this, nor the night Grand Final, nor AFLX. The game appears to be run by people who want to export the game to a bigger TV audience and eventually the world, and don’t mind taking it from its fans and members first.

What the fuck re: AFL club songs

by Tom Briglia

What’s one of your favourite songs? From now on, whenever you hear it, it’s been re-recorded for no reason, and it doesn’t quite make you feel how it usually makes you feel.

My secret dream was for the siren to sound on AFL Grand Final Day, and for the Fable Singers’ drum roll of the club song to thunder around the MCG.

Courtesy of the AFL’s consultation with absolutely no-one (and certainly not anyone beyond their top-tier pay bracket), here is the St Kilda Football Club song as of March 16th, 2018. Devoid of spirit, the league-wide overhauls sound like bad covers; like club song-themed songs. I would hope these are canned. Not one person has said these are great, or an improvement. At best, the AFL is hoping to weather criticism and ride indifference. That’s a terrifying thing.

First-ever Southern Saints jumpers

by Tom Briglia

The first ever Southern Saints jumpers have been released – as with most things like this, I came across it initially on the BigFooty Footy Jumpers and Graphic Design board.

Love the traditional-style collars by CGR and the mix of the 2004-2006 candy stripe and the support candy stripe worn by some players from 1906 to 1908. Interesting (unfortunate) that there is currently no St Kilda logo on it though, but the excuse could be used that the VFLW is technically being run partly with Frankston Dolphins – the AFLW team would be different.

The can wait to the forthcoming St Kilda Jumper State of the Union 2018.





To Casey Fields and back

by Tom Briglia

JLT Community Series #2, 2018
Melbourne 8.4, 11.5, 12.8, 18.11 (119)
St Kilda 4.1, 6.4, 12.7, 14.9 (93)
Crowd: 4,567 at Casey Fields, Thursday, 8th March at 7.05pm

jlt 2 2

For obvious reasons, this generation of Saints and Demons have been compared in similar ways with the Saints and the Cats of the aughts. This was the final game of the pre-season but it definitely wasn’t the 2004 Wizard Cup Final (how eerily appropriate that Tim Lane calls the word “toepoke” as Milne kicks over to Luke Ball for the final goal). More than anything, this was the last chance for the us to shake off the cobwebs we were tangled up in at Princes Park.

After a Wednesday night against a fellow VFL foundation club at their historic home, it was a Thursday night match against another foundation club. Casey Fields, however, is a beacon of 21st century fluff – nice and new and shiny and “boutique”, but somehow despite all the painstaking planning it that went towards the creation, it’s a bit iffy on character. Not even the wind bothered showing up with its usual force for this one.

The day before brought the revelation that we are keen on Tom Lynch (the Gold Coast one, not the one we already had and then didn’t bother with and is now one of the better forwards in the game). Not sure to make of this one but let’s for a moment assume it’s true – maybe it’s a kick up the arse to our many decent-sized forwards, maybe we’re trying to play games with other clubs. Maybe Lethlean wants to give St Kilda a good old-fashioned showman’s kick up the arse by ordering the lure of a massive name to turn things around not just on the field, but off, too, given our fellow Saint Gillon had just told the footy world that shit from now is on us.

The problem with it is…he’s not a midfielder. Do you just take the best available player to justify all the amping up over several seasons that landing a big fish wasn’t so far away, and sedate depressed and exhausted supporters ? We really went out of our way to justify not getting Petracca, particularly with the line that we wanted to avoid paying what the Bulldogs had just forked out for a big forward in Tom Boyd. 

My Favourite Hair in the Fox Footy Commentary Team pointed out there’d been a pretty big investment in Paddy, and perhaps some people are still nervous about our sequel to Billings ahead of Bont. Like Billings and Bont – The Original (you can extend the analogy to those Saints and Cats generations also), I think there’s a decent chance that the other team might get there first, and we just have to hope we have something to show for it some time vaguely in the future. One premiership in 145 years of existence doesn’t do well if we’re going by averages, and we’ve also hit the now of our “Road to 2018” plan, which has us finishing in the top four by 2018 – yes, as in, this 2018 – and a premiership by 2020. Thursday’s second-half turnaround or not, that’s also looking pretty silly at the moment. Yes, the Tigers last year were stunning, and the Bulldogs often used the phrase “Why not us?” around their 2016 premiership, and the easy answer to that is “Because we’re St Kilda”.


If there’s anything more dangerous than St Kilda fans being angry, upset and bewildered about how things have panned out since early early in the afternoon of Saturday, September 25th, 2009, it’s St Kilda fans just not caring anymore. Jake Niall wrote an excellent piece about the ever-present energy and urgency of of Richmond fans, as well as those of Collingwood and Essendon, even throughout their leaner or more difficult times in recent decades compared against the relatively indifferent Blues over this century. The difference is, Carlton’s sleeper support is still one of the biggest in the league, and money would be in no short supply when required.

At half-time this was feeling like a dry run for a time perhaps not so far away in which it’s clear we actually botched all of our draft picks, that the league is far more intent on AFLX crowds and franchises than anything else and an AFL premiership doesn’t really mean that much anymore, and we would have kicked ourselves long and high and without thought into oblivion by then anyway.


You know you’re the St Kilda Football Club when you’ve got Petracca and Clayton Oliver doing MAJOR LEAGUE SPORTS millionaires celebrations in the second quarter of a pre-season match. Mind you, Oliver had just kicked a goal from outside 50 against the wind, just moments after Dunstan – from the same spot at the other end and with the wind at his back – for some reason rushed to move the ball on and scuffed a right foot kick along the ground. If this is meant to be the opposition in the next great rivalry then fap away.

Going with the nuclear option/Tom Lynch even in that moment wouldn’t have helped. For the first time ever I saw Paddy crack the shits and I couldn’t tell if it was because Bruce sort of spoiled him in a marking contest, or because whoever kicked it into the 50 did so right between two one-on-ones, but it was probably both. It was well established by then that we’d also fallen back into the habit of sticking to the line of play. I don’t know what the trigger is for the players to do it or not do it is. We couldn’t help ourselves last year even with the on-field leadership of Roo and Joey, and we sure as fuck we couldn’t help it for another game and a half.  

Paddy’s wtf expression as he realised what had happened summed things up: what actually needs to happen for players to not blaze away and just at least kick to the advantage of the forward? Everyone could see it happening. Everyone can fucking see it. All the time. Even in a practice match hurtled to the the most remote part of the outer suburbs we could all see it broadcast clearly on national television.

Our best passage for the half involved a neat Coffield and Clark combination off half-back and the increasingly valuable link-up of Billings, before our supposed best player Jack Steven blazed away from the 50-metre arc to sort of but not really Paddy’s vicinity. Gresham pounced on the ball for a hurried shot and missed.


As members, supporters, fans, what were we looking to at that point? Do you make the decision to keep watching, knowing it’s just a pre-season match but without having seen anything real that suggests we hadn’t gone backwards?

Until then it was fleeting moments; Coffield, Clark and Billings joining up, Coffield’s bullet from the wing to Paddy’s lead, Paddy presenting repeatedly across the ground and his follow-ups when the ball was low, Roberton still bemusingly good at Australian Rules football. Otherwise all we had to do was sit back and relax as Melbourne Demons heartthrob Bernie Vince spear tackle Josh Bruce and Jack Billings into next weekend’s break. My bed was literally two metres away and that’s where I ended up watching the second half.


Like Bruce, Billings was a week behind and had to work his way into general play, but that couldn’t mask that he probably hadn’t touched a single weight over the pre-season. He still seemed to be getting knocked around a little too easily, looking like a grenade had gone off near him as hit a marking contest in the first quarter. Latte couldn’t quite hold onto Brayshaw, who was the closest Melbourne player at the ball when he came to from the blast. Brayshaw gave away a free soon after but for someone who is already stuck wearing a helmet for the rest of his career because he’s had a Paddy-esque amount head knocks it was great to watch. For some reason we’re renowned as, and talk ourselves up as, a hard working team, but few guys show the intent he would.

Bruce’s second half reflected the rest of the team’s changes across the ground (but how much acclimatising do you need to not drop a short kick into attack?), but he also had to bring his work rate. He might have been walking off at half-time thinking his poster in Tassie would ultimately be his legacy, and he still came out in the second half and did everything he could to get into the play, even if it meant another chance to add to his blooper reel. I’m certainly critical of him for his output but if everyone showed the kind of willingness he does we’d be a much, much better team. This did bring out what he is capable of, and he finished the work – he held onto marks and kicked three goals in the quarter.

The team’s turnaround wasn’t based on individual flashes of brilliance or huge moments. It was built on a more players buying in, being more willing to provide options across the ground, stretching the Dees and keep them guessing, and of course not bombing Sherrins onto Paddy and Bruce. While the lack of A-graders going into the season remains a concern, Billings, Gresham, Paddy and Acres showed at the very least more reliability whether the team was working well or not, and gave some hope for the prospect of improvement from the younger guys through this season. Even down to Rowan Marshall, who was again parachuted in late, although this time actually got to play a full half of footy. Again he was competitive across the ground and offered an option up forward. He might play a bigger role in this team than we expected.

Special mention has to go to Paddy. If anyone played in the manner of a captain it was him, and his numbers of 15 disposals, five marks, 1.0 and zero tackles belied his presence and effort. Bruce has an air of desperation (and I do mean that in the positive sense), but still hasn’t shaken the appearance of the futsal ring-in who happens to be surprisingly alright. Paddy has an air of being on a mission, and that he wants to take the side with him. He’s still only played 22 games but having been through another pre-season (albeit briefly interrupted) he covered the ground incredibly well and was let down by frankly ridiculous delivery into attack. His work rate once the ball had come off hands was sensational; for both the intent and ability to move so well for his size, and to actually have a presence and effect on what’s going on around him. He does it in a way that Bruce can’t quite match for speed and someone like Billings can’t for strength. He’s obviously still trading on potential, and comparisons with him and Petracca will linger for as long as these two teams share this trajectory. But I think he’s shown more than people have given him credit for in the pre-season.


A lot has been made of Sav’s performance but I think it’s safe to say we’re at a point where this is probably what we’re going to get at this stage of his career – someone who provides genuine drive and speed and can kick a huge goal, and will inevitably shank a few kicks and occasionally not have his full faculties about him. His wrap sheet in the first quarter was ugly enough – a long kick out to no-one in particular came straight back for a goal, dropping an uncontested mark near the Melbourne goal, gave away the free-kick that gave Melksham his second, and then gave away a holding free to Jesse Hogan for a shot at goal. He carried his forward 50 entry form from Princes Park into this one too.

But even Sav came to the lower-your-eyes-and-kick-it-shorter-if-need-be party in the third. His 30-metre spear forward to a hard-running Bruce reflected the difference in the team. Not only did he give the forwards the chance to create something, but instead of continuing the switch of play and go further across the ground – the obvious next move – he quickly changed direction and punched the ball in. 


As soon as Bruce put us in front in the third quarter, coverage cut to jack Steven being taken off by two trainers, and not putting any pressure on one leg. Quickly the real focus of these games was back. By then we’d probably shown what we needed to feel vaguely ok about the tune-up, but Football Gods forbid you may partially begin to enjoy St Kilda playing decent Australian Football in a meaningless practice match.

Despite the holes in defence opening back up in the last quarter for a few cheap goals, it was clear with several moments remaining the two teams just wanted to get out unscathed and without any bizarre scoreboard activity. It ended up running to a similar script as Round 21 last year; a sloppy start cost us before we overcame a circa 40-point deficit to make it a contest, but fell away again. That game – at the time – was essentially an Elimination Final and we were monstered when it mattered. It’s much too early to know how far we’ve progressed from that day, but the next game we play marks the beginning of finding out. Make the most of the week off.

Familiar, and a long way from home

by Tom Briglia

JLT 1 2018
Carlton 5.3, 8.4, 11.6, 13.11 (89)
St Kilda  1.0, 4.7, 7.10, 9.13 (67)
Crowd: 8,098 at Princes Park, Wednesday, February 28th at 7.10pm


In the same week that we played Carlton at their historic home of Princes Park, the AFL released its non-plans for a genuine overhaul of (the) Corporate Stadium (precinct), our official home ground. Meanwhile, Luke Dunstan, Shane Savage and a bunch of graffiti were spattered on the back page of the The Age at our portables at Moorabbin ahead of our official return to actual buildings.

We all hope the move back from Seaford will not just revitalise the club as our list develops. We hope it marks the end of a period in which we failed to utilise arguably our best ever list playing the best footy in the club’s history to a) win a premiership and b) establish ourselves as an independently viable, strong football club off the field. Zero premierships and a $20.6 million hand-out from Gillon last year would sound horrifying to a Saints fan in early 2004 as the Riewoldt, Hayes, et al group began to make their mark.

From here, I feel like we’re just as likely to end up wading in a pool of mediocrity long-term; see Carlton under Ratten-Malthouse, or North Melbourne post-2000. Attending practice matches, whatever the branding, doesn’t do anything to ease or exacerbate that fear.

Although for not much longer, Moorabbin is still an unfinished work site with a bunch of scribbled portables. It’s a temporary state before the official move-in, but it crossed my mind early in the second quarter as I watched a game in which Carlton supporters sat proudly and arrogantly at their spiritual home.

And sure, we were in Carlton heartland. But even in the pre-season, an umpire’s decision or passage of play that goes the way of the Saints is met with silence or booes of 7,500 Carlton fans that is far more intimidating than 17,500 fans at Corporate Dome. Ticketing and seating was a free-for-all so through the first quarter I gradually sauntered over to the front of the Legends stand, built at a gradient bemusingly low as is it bizarre that the construction of Corporate Stadium’s allows an AFL match capacity of not even 55,000. The 13-0 2009 showdown against the Cats retains the all-time Australian Rules record of 54,444, but the Round 12, 2016 game against Carlton – technically a sell-out, and one that saw queues outside the ground well into the second quarter – only registered 47,495, owing largely to the hideous corporate pandering of the Medallion Club arrangement. Despite the Wednesday night timeslot on a hot and blustery day, two VFL founding clubs playing at one of the most historic grounds in the comp made this a far more genuine trip to the footy than AFLX at Etihad on a Friday night would ever feel.

There’s nothing coming back the other way – we don’t have a place like that of our own, unless some weird miracles happen at Moorabbin. Moorabbin has little if anything left of what made it Moorabbin. Through their VFL flags as Footscray in 2014 and 2016, the 2016 AFL premiership, and a high-profile AFLW team, it is the Bulldogs that have become an integral community club in the way that few others can be. Amidst that, the Whitten Oval – like Princes Park – has kept major stands, is host to AFL pre-season matches and AFLW matches, and could legitimately be floated as an AFL ground if there was enough willpower and money. Moorabbin will try and be shaped as a community hub, serving as a base or host games for Sandringham Dragons, the Southern Football League and the Southern Saints. But with the total demolition of the old stands we risk just having an oval next to a slick office building with a gym in it, as we do in Seaford.

And the Australian Rules football.

Ah, the injustice of being a St Kilda supporter. Sitting in the forward pocket in a very similar position to our seats in the 2009 Grand Final at the Hawkins end, and seeing a Saints snap at goal called touched despite Liam Jones’s outstretched hand being clearly behind the line,  just moments after Jones’s wayward spoil attempt smacked Paddy in the face, drawing blood and giving him a nudge on his place on the ledge overlooking concussion. Carlton fans had the gall to give the bronx cheers for receiving a free kick in front of the Pratt stand soon after, and they quickly pulled out a cheap goal up the other end. The fucking injustice; I could feel it at one-and-a-half quarters into the first pre-season practice match. Footy’s back.

I don’t know what we really expected might have changed over the off-season, but it wasn’t lowering the eyes going forward to find a shorter target, much less provide some movement into space and provide that target in the first place. Watching Sav wheeling around onto his right from outside 50 to kick a long ball that needed to wrestle with a fickle, swirling wind before it landed vaguely near anyone at all was met with a text from Matt – “Richo looks stressed.” I sure as fuck hope he did. Incredibly, it was Lonie who had the wherewithal and skill to execute a bullet around the corner to Newnes, who missed on the half-time siren. Not sure if Dicko was around to see that one. Meanwhile, the Blues were pulling out slick and occasionally arsey stuff at will on the counterattack as we laboured and bootedthe ball long into the 50 over and over again for fark all reward.

The first quarter was a write-off. We gave an arrogant, rich, loud club fodder to be more arrogant, richer (probably) and even louder. They were lathering up in the outer as Paddy Cripps kicked a couple of goals to enhance his (well-earned) golden boy status; as we made new recruit Paddy Dow look like a warrior with his chipped teeth and couple of majors; and Matthew Kreuzer showed up the shortfalls of Billy Longer’s game to an almost comical degree – speed, agility, mobility, strong hands, goalkicking threat, Australian Rules, and so on.

There was at least a little more urgency from some players in the second quarter. For a second I thought Billy was going to go Lazar Vidovic vs Fremantle in the opening round of the 1995 Ansett Cup after Simpson met Sinclair. Speaking of, the club posted to the socials a picture of Loewe and Burke with the 1996 Ansett Cup, saying, “It’s always good to meet Carlton in the pre-season”. Sure, but that competition doesn’t exist anymore and I’m pretty sure that, despite their club withering in the early part of this century as paper bag transactions became rarer, they still have the equal most premierships in VFL/AFL history with 16, and we still have the least, with one. And there’s no reason to think we’re much closer to our 2nd than they are 17.

Take #4 for #1

Paddy is the obvious one to pick out here – as the supply lifted he kept presenting, having been our only goalkicker in the first quarter and working to defensive side of the wing to get the ball out of traffic. He was very vocal had more of a presence than any game I’ve seen him play. I kept an eye and ear on him, a rare element of taking in the game you only get when watching the footy at a place like this, and it also made it more obvious when he was burned twice in quick succession. A period of play in our front half along the broadcast flank had him screaming at Gilbo from a couple of metres away to give off inboard to a couple of open players, but the kick went long and wide of fucks knows what. Literally seconds later the ball was coming back into the 50 via Potential Next Captain Luke Dunstan, with Paddy screaming for it in space over the top of the Carlton player coming up to meet Luke, who decided blaze away deep. Fortunately, our only elite player, Jack Sinclair, was able to mop it up, complete deft twists and turns got it out to Hunter Clark who had enough composure to finish under pressure..

Having had his nose split in the contest with Jones, Paddy followed it up with a dropped mark right in front of goal that he would take several times out of several and a bit. In fact one noticeable part of his game overall was some of the great contested marks he took. On this occasion he took liberty of immediately going low to hunt the ball and led with his head. That his endeavour is so uncompromised is incredible, that his head wasn’t buried into the Princes Park turf in that moment was another.

Perhaps it’s just part of him even more so now. That may be what breaks him, but that may be what makes him, too. He finished with 2.2 and a couple of total misses but was a menace when there was more considered entries up forward.

The second quarter was also noticeable for me because I watched Hunter Clark looking to take the body of Marchbank and Byrne after they dished it off in traffic close to the forward flank boundary, undersized or nor. A few seconds later he kept his head over a low ball and took the hit from an opponent. No questions. He also had the composure to kick two goals in tight situations on a night that had us at 7.12 during the last quarter. How often do we find someone so ready to play AFL football straight up? Hunter finished with two goals and supplied Carlisle with an easy goal from in close in the latter stages of the game, having run purposefully into space from the rebound and actually assessing options before going the Sav Special. I don’t think it will be long until Hunter’s bandwagon is full, and he is already providing hair X-factor also.

Coffield, on the other hand, probably put in the most Jack Newnes-like performance since, uh, Jack Newnes’ performance on Wednesday night. I mean that in the sense that I barely noticed him as he racked up 20 touches off half-back – with five rebound-50s and four inside-50s. He was much neater than Sav appeared, but this is before considering Sav’s experience and higher ceilling (for now), as well as Brandon White, Bailey Rice, D Mac etc. Ideally Coff will be leading that pack at some point. We’re literally one practice game in but his composure and awareness are qualities that translate through the step up to AFL.

The switch on the wall beside you


I’m sure one of the emergency lighting…lights – there were several sitting on top of cherry pickers after the AFLW debacle – was flickering as I migrated to my favourite stand in the ground for the second half, the Alderman Gardiner Stand. I’ve seen a lot of rate second rate pre-season games featuring second-rate Saints teams in that stand. It was suitably subdued and mediocre to be back, all the more so as the weather turned a little. But I do associate it with the few games a year I can sit back and relax and watch the Saints and enjoy taking in these renewed relationships with the sound of the crowd, the frustration of a poor kick, the excitement of a new player showing something.

It was obviously tough in the mid-week footy training at McKinnon Oval lighting to see, but overall people didn’t really miss out on anything other than Rowan Marshall (debut in the clash jumper) playing the last 20 minutes of the game soccer-sub style, and Jack Lonie making a physical impact and having some form of presence beyond the opening 15 minutes of the game. Armo was physical and he was busy, and he was first one and hardest to go for Simpson after the collision with Sinclair. But like Paddy, until a few games are strung together the spectre of innocuous injury looms large. Also is it just me or has Armo…changed over the past couple of years? Black eye aside, he came across in his post match interview with Josh Gabelich as so much more…mature? Maybe he’s focussing on his footy more now that Armo’s Challenge looks have to have been shelved for Jimmy and Timmy.

For all intents and purposes, this really did look like two teams who hadn’t played proper games of footy for a few months, once you were able to figure which silhouette belong to who. That was St Kilda players blazing away going forward, as if the ample time over the off season to correct that shit had never occurred, whilst Carlton were inherently slick enough to mop up our mistakes and go back up the other end cleanly and effectively.

Richo looked genuinely disappointed in the post-match press conference which was reassuring, and most would agree that with him when he said the positives were more around individuals rather than systems and methods. Again, there’s been a bunch of months to correct those, so I’m assuming (hoping) it was the players that weren’t quite doing what they should have been.

Near home

Finding a car park near the ground was more difficult than last year, when I think I had to wing it in a permit zone for the corresponding match. My local knowledge was unable to give me any decent leads, but I managed to snag one on Park Street just a few metres off Royal Parade. Not only does Princes Park itself present novelty factor for people starved of footy grounds with an actual soul, but it’s also very close to RWB‘s Brunswick West HQ. I was home within 10 minutes of leaving the ground, which felt bizarre, and I’m sure is just one component of the nostalgia for the suburban homes of our clubs.

The sun had set on summer and the wind was still blowing hard, but now had a chill. I went down from my seat to closer to the race and watched the players walking off. No one truly proven, no one that we’d ridden with to a decent part of September, no obvious candidates to lead us the promised land. I thought, “Who the fuck are these guys?”