Colonial - A view from one of the hoi polloi.

A Friday night at Colonial!  You wish!

It was long queues for this member of "Hoi Polloi" at Collo's Colonial a month ago.  Can you believe that some of us not didn't enter Collo's tabernacle until the end of the first quarter. As for the single mum on the No 11 from West Preston with the tribe of kids, I can only wonder!  After the kids begged her to take them to the footy imagine how she must have felt by home time. I'll bet she was wishing someone would drop of PlayStation in front of the kids. 

And when the blokes do get in, what's on offer, you ask?  Light Beer.  Can you believe it?  Keep 'em sober, you reckon!

Yeah!  Well how do you explain the crates of Scotch and Coke and top shelf spirits at prices that would make a Toorak toff swallow his pipe?

So, I'm there with Bureaucrats, IT gurus, International Educators, Property
Developers - who just like going to the footy and being part of a crowd that is
singularly devoted to one team - in this case Eddie's Collingwood of course. And we can't get a beer.  Are you kiddin', Mr Collins?

What is this, are we still a penal colony?

Do we still have to be treated as if we are below decks scum, the criminal
classes who can't be trusted with the rights that the ruling class take for
granted - a beer!  Is full strength beer beyond our capacity to manage?  Is it too much to ask from the AFL or Channel Seven or whoever it is that makes the decisions in that place.

Maybe K. Packer, when he inevitably buys Colonial, will grasp the whole culture of football and understand that his bottom line is underwritten by the good faith of the supporters. And that is me and my friends and the woman on the No 11 from West Preston with the kids. Kids with their shining eyes and hearts full of dreams like we were so many years ago. Dreams of victory and memories of moments like Nicky Winmar raising his jumper and pointing to his black skin in front of that rabid crowd and stilling them for one heart stopping, history making moment.

You treat us with contempt at your peril!



And if that wasn't enough, me and the boys waited 25 mins for the West Preston Tram to clunk its way into view. With a mob of barrackers spilling out onto the Collins and Spencer Street intersection it must have been a sight for the Toorak brigade.  So the siren went at 9.50 pm and poor old Brian didn't put the tired head on the pillow in West Preston till 11.30.

Would have been better to walk.

Yours

Brian Sanaghan