LFCMariners
Well-Known Member
This thread is for everybody to share their week from the qualifying final against the Victory, to the full-time whistle of yesterday's Grand Final. Going from the posts I read on here, 442 and Facebook during the week, it would seem our emotions and impressions as supporters during the week were noticeably varied. So on reflection, here's my account:
Watching the match against the Victory last Sunday evening, I honestly didn't care whether we won or lost. If we lost, at least we could focus fully on the ACL. If we won, we were into another Grand Final, but with that came the distinct possibility of losing another one, being derided by the haters and having to back up from the disappointment with a jeapordised preparation for the ACL. When WSW beat the Roar to progress to the decider, one of their fans on 442 posted a gif of that kid in 'Never Ending Story' riding through the sky on the back of Falcor and pumping his fists. By contrast, when the final whistle blew and we were officially the "other team", I felt (and probably looked) like a contrast between Graham Arnold on the sidelines and Grumpy Cat.
During the week I went through all different emotions- feeling calm and like we had a good chance at winning, to the knot in the gut and all the negative possibilities like:
- What if WSW flog us?
- What if we draw and lose on penalties?
- What if we lead by 2 goals or more and then blow it?
- What if the officials hand it to WSW on a platter but nobody cares because they're all too busy going on with the same, predictable anti- CCM rubbish they have been carrying on with for the last few years?
On the one hand I'd wake up of a morning and be glad that today wasn't the day of reckoning. Yet at the same time I'd just want it to be over with so I didn't have to think about it anymore. It was like peeling a metaphorical band-aid. You want to do it in one go but instead you're left with the slow, laborious approach. I had stuff to do all week and I really wished I wasn't so distracted by thoughts of the game.
I tried to keep posts on here, 442 and Facebook to a minimum to save the possibility of winding up with egg on my face, but then some butt-hurt hater would post the same predictable rubbish and the "We hate CCM!" cheersquad would begin the circle-jerk which would prompt me to interject with a laugh and a fact. I honestly believed if the Mariners played at or close to their best they would be Champions. I considered Melbourne Victory more dangerous than the Wanderers, and we had just dominated them. Beaten an Ange Postecoglou team fair and square. WSW are a defensive team who play a miserly style of football and rely on a single moment of brilliance from Ono to get them over the line, coupled with Covic's keeping ability. Mariners had more goals in them, but would they be allowed to take their full game to WSW? This was the team owned by the FFA. The team in the #1 key demographic of Australian sport right now. The team who had a new wank-fest article written about them every time the sun rose: How they had "revolutionised" Australian football, how they were "the fairytale", how their supporters were doing things not a single other supporters group in the history of Australian sport had ever done, how scrolls uncovered in lower Jerusalem revealed that Jesus couldn't walk on water until someone threw him a WSW jersey and got him to sing a rendition of "Come on you Wanderers!" The fact that the majority of football commentators and posters on neutral forums like 442 tipped a Mariners victory did little to put my mind at ease.
I began looking for signs, trying to work out my gut feeling about the game as an indicator. Other Mariners fans were saying stuff like "I have a good feeling about this one." and I'd be reading, thinking "Oh for goodness' sake don't say that- haven't you learned anything these past 8 years?" I feel I can only admit it now, but for the past few months I had been able to very clearly picture the team in our current Mariners jerseys hoisting the toilet seat aloft. I could always see Bernie smiling wide, the bright yellow jerseys with Masterfoods on the front and the shiny silver disc being held by the team. Conversely, imagining the same scenario with WSW was foggy and somehow.....forced. Against Sydney and Brisbane I remember the feeling of not expecting to win but feeling proud that we made it. Against the Jest I felt the distinct possibility that we could win but knew that if they played at or near their best, it could come down to a single mistake or a referee's call (which turned out to be the case). This time, I really believed we could beat WSW if only.........if only they weren't the FFA and the media darlings. Surely they wouldn't allow an unfashionable team of Coasties to ruin the warm, fuzzy fairytale, would they? Not with all the bandwagon support to win over with a single Grand Final win!
In the Brisbane CBD during the week, I walked past a guy wearing last years' home jersey with Hutcho's name and number on the back. Was that a good omen? Then on Thursday morning I hopped into my car, turned the radio on to Triple J and the song playing was "Can't help falling in love with you" by Elvis. If you were in the Coastie Boys, you will know the significance of that. Yet I didn't want to believe it was a sign. I didn't want to talk about it with anybody and jinx us or feel like an idiot if we lost. I kept it to myself and just thought about how great it would be to win, for Arnie and the boys and the diehards who have followed this team to every corner of Australia (and even Asia) for 8 years, how great it would be to give the big middle finger (at last) to the Jest fans and all the other butt-hurt haters trying to play down our achievements. I cared about CCM winning more for their sake than my own. I did (and still do) rate the Premiership over the Grand Final. But if we could just complete the full set of trophies- how great that would be. If the Mariners won- it would be the opening of the gates to trolling paradise. We were 30 seconds away against the Roar. I tried not to think of all the memes/ possible tifo displays that could be created if we won, knowing if would be a waste of time and mental energy if we lost. In 2011, I was literally 10 seconds away from logging onto Facebook and making my status "Choke on THAT!" Just one of many times my instinct has saved my arse. If only this time we won, the haters would have to slink away with their ego's bruised and a very, very severe case of butt-hurt.
By Friday I no longer felt the anguish. I was over it. I went out Thursday, Friday and Saturday night with mates and enjoyed myself, Sunday's game always at the back of my mind. Saturday night I stayed at a friends' place, managing somehow to avoid thoughts of "24 hours from now, we'll know whether we're Champions or not". I slept easily that night. When I woke up Sunday morning I thought "Game day. Here we are." Calm as that. Was I getting too confident? I didn't over analyse it. I drove home and worked out what I was going to wear. This season, Mariners have generally won when I've worn a Lakers singlet. My flatmate and his bro are big NBA fans, and I was telling my flatmate a couple of months ago about the similarities between the Lakers and the Mariners: both teams have names that represent people of the water, similar colours (yellow/ purple v yellow/ navy) both have been consistently good teams in their histories and both have a ball in their logo. I picked the first of my several Lakers singlets off the rack- Dwight Howards' purple #12 singlet. Since Kobe Bryant has been outed for the season, D12 has stepped up to the mark and is playing really well for L.A. Was this a good sign?
I showered, changed and lay about on the couch watching ESPN until about 30 minutes before kick-off to the Grand Final when I switched over. Even my flatmate (who doesn't follow football) made the comment that "The Mariners seem to be pretty consistent". I agreed but didn't want to say too much else in case I jinxed the team by talking ourselves up or saying everything that had been on my mind this past week. Before the game I saw the '4th time lucky Go Mariners!' banner in the Yellow Army and wanted to facepalm myself, thinking straight back to that '3rd time lucky' banner at the Roar Grand Final and thinking "Oh Lord not again! Don't some people learn?" In the Mariners dressing room, Daniel McBreen was larking about in the background. I remembered the 2001 NRL Grand Final, seeing the Eels players so tense and nervous in the dressing room before the match. Then they'd cut to the Knights dressing room, the team were all laughing and joking about like they were going to a party. They blew Parramatta off the park that night, the Eels came back in the second half but were never really in it. During the week, every picture I saw of Hutcho he had this determined look to him. Even leaving the stadium to hop on the bus, the fans are all cheering and waving but he had this focused glare in his eyes, seemingly unaware of anything else. You could almost hear him thinking "We've got to do it this time". Was this all a good omen? I dared not say a word about it. The fear of a jinx again...
Watching the match against the Victory last Sunday evening, I honestly didn't care whether we won or lost. If we lost, at least we could focus fully on the ACL. If we won, we were into another Grand Final, but with that came the distinct possibility of losing another one, being derided by the haters and having to back up from the disappointment with a jeapordised preparation for the ACL. When WSW beat the Roar to progress to the decider, one of their fans on 442 posted a gif of that kid in 'Never Ending Story' riding through the sky on the back of Falcor and pumping his fists. By contrast, when the final whistle blew and we were officially the "other team", I felt (and probably looked) like a contrast between Graham Arnold on the sidelines and Grumpy Cat.
During the week I went through all different emotions- feeling calm and like we had a good chance at winning, to the knot in the gut and all the negative possibilities like:
- What if WSW flog us?
- What if we draw and lose on penalties?
- What if we lead by 2 goals or more and then blow it?
- What if the officials hand it to WSW on a platter but nobody cares because they're all too busy going on with the same, predictable anti- CCM rubbish they have been carrying on with for the last few years?
On the one hand I'd wake up of a morning and be glad that today wasn't the day of reckoning. Yet at the same time I'd just want it to be over with so I didn't have to think about it anymore. It was like peeling a metaphorical band-aid. You want to do it in one go but instead you're left with the slow, laborious approach. I had stuff to do all week and I really wished I wasn't so distracted by thoughts of the game.
I tried to keep posts on here, 442 and Facebook to a minimum to save the possibility of winding up with egg on my face, but then some butt-hurt hater would post the same predictable rubbish and the "We hate CCM!" cheersquad would begin the circle-jerk which would prompt me to interject with a laugh and a fact. I honestly believed if the Mariners played at or close to their best they would be Champions. I considered Melbourne Victory more dangerous than the Wanderers, and we had just dominated them. Beaten an Ange Postecoglou team fair and square. WSW are a defensive team who play a miserly style of football and rely on a single moment of brilliance from Ono to get them over the line, coupled with Covic's keeping ability. Mariners had more goals in them, but would they be allowed to take their full game to WSW? This was the team owned by the FFA. The team in the #1 key demographic of Australian sport right now. The team who had a new wank-fest article written about them every time the sun rose: How they had "revolutionised" Australian football, how they were "the fairytale", how their supporters were doing things not a single other supporters group in the history of Australian sport had ever done, how scrolls uncovered in lower Jerusalem revealed that Jesus couldn't walk on water until someone threw him a WSW jersey and got him to sing a rendition of "Come on you Wanderers!" The fact that the majority of football commentators and posters on neutral forums like 442 tipped a Mariners victory did little to put my mind at ease.
I began looking for signs, trying to work out my gut feeling about the game as an indicator. Other Mariners fans were saying stuff like "I have a good feeling about this one." and I'd be reading, thinking "Oh for goodness' sake don't say that- haven't you learned anything these past 8 years?" I feel I can only admit it now, but for the past few months I had been able to very clearly picture the team in our current Mariners jerseys hoisting the toilet seat aloft. I could always see Bernie smiling wide, the bright yellow jerseys with Masterfoods on the front and the shiny silver disc being held by the team. Conversely, imagining the same scenario with WSW was foggy and somehow.....forced. Against Sydney and Brisbane I remember the feeling of not expecting to win but feeling proud that we made it. Against the Jest I felt the distinct possibility that we could win but knew that if they played at or near their best, it could come down to a single mistake or a referee's call (which turned out to be the case). This time, I really believed we could beat WSW if only.........if only they weren't the FFA and the media darlings. Surely they wouldn't allow an unfashionable team of Coasties to ruin the warm, fuzzy fairytale, would they? Not with all the bandwagon support to win over with a single Grand Final win!
In the Brisbane CBD during the week, I walked past a guy wearing last years' home jersey with Hutcho's name and number on the back. Was that a good omen? Then on Thursday morning I hopped into my car, turned the radio on to Triple J and the song playing was "Can't help falling in love with you" by Elvis. If you were in the Coastie Boys, you will know the significance of that. Yet I didn't want to believe it was a sign. I didn't want to talk about it with anybody and jinx us or feel like an idiot if we lost. I kept it to myself and just thought about how great it would be to win, for Arnie and the boys and the diehards who have followed this team to every corner of Australia (and even Asia) for 8 years, how great it would be to give the big middle finger (at last) to the Jest fans and all the other butt-hurt haters trying to play down our achievements. I cared about CCM winning more for their sake than my own. I did (and still do) rate the Premiership over the Grand Final. But if we could just complete the full set of trophies- how great that would be. If the Mariners won- it would be the opening of the gates to trolling paradise. We were 30 seconds away against the Roar. I tried not to think of all the memes/ possible tifo displays that could be created if we won, knowing if would be a waste of time and mental energy if we lost. In 2011, I was literally 10 seconds away from logging onto Facebook and making my status "Choke on THAT!" Just one of many times my instinct has saved my arse. If only this time we won, the haters would have to slink away with their ego's bruised and a very, very severe case of butt-hurt.
By Friday I no longer felt the anguish. I was over it. I went out Thursday, Friday and Saturday night with mates and enjoyed myself, Sunday's game always at the back of my mind. Saturday night I stayed at a friends' place, managing somehow to avoid thoughts of "24 hours from now, we'll know whether we're Champions or not". I slept easily that night. When I woke up Sunday morning I thought "Game day. Here we are." Calm as that. Was I getting too confident? I didn't over analyse it. I drove home and worked out what I was going to wear. This season, Mariners have generally won when I've worn a Lakers singlet. My flatmate and his bro are big NBA fans, and I was telling my flatmate a couple of months ago about the similarities between the Lakers and the Mariners: both teams have names that represent people of the water, similar colours (yellow/ purple v yellow/ navy) both have been consistently good teams in their histories and both have a ball in their logo. I picked the first of my several Lakers singlets off the rack- Dwight Howards' purple #12 singlet. Since Kobe Bryant has been outed for the season, D12 has stepped up to the mark and is playing really well for L.A. Was this a good sign?
I showered, changed and lay about on the couch watching ESPN until about 30 minutes before kick-off to the Grand Final when I switched over. Even my flatmate (who doesn't follow football) made the comment that "The Mariners seem to be pretty consistent". I agreed but didn't want to say too much else in case I jinxed the team by talking ourselves up or saying everything that had been on my mind this past week. Before the game I saw the '4th time lucky Go Mariners!' banner in the Yellow Army and wanted to facepalm myself, thinking straight back to that '3rd time lucky' banner at the Roar Grand Final and thinking "Oh Lord not again! Don't some people learn?" In the Mariners dressing room, Daniel McBreen was larking about in the background. I remembered the 2001 NRL Grand Final, seeing the Eels players so tense and nervous in the dressing room before the match. Then they'd cut to the Knights dressing room, the team were all laughing and joking about like they were going to a party. They blew Parramatta off the park that night, the Eels came back in the second half but were never really in it. During the week, every picture I saw of Hutcho he had this determined look to him. Even leaving the stadium to hop on the bus, the fans are all cheering and waving but he had this focused glare in his eyes, seemingly unaware of anything else. You could almost hear him thinking "We've got to do it this time". Was this all a good omen? I dared not say a word about it. The fear of a jinx again...
