prwilkinson wrote: ↑Sun 12 May 2019 4:07pm
This was an enjoyable win against the Eagles back in ‘92. Didn’t get there until quarter time but gees.... that was a bloody cold day at Arctic Park! I also went to the famous Brisbane game at Arctic Park when it was 8 degrees with hail so thick you couldn’t see anything. Those were the days...
Yes, I was also there that day. Freezing cold and wet. The passage of play I remember most was when Sumich got pinged for holding the ball after a bone-crunching tackle laid by Danny Frawley. I vividly remember the sheer ferocity of it and all of us Sainters bellowing out an enormous "BAAAAAALLLLLLLL - YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
The fact that it was their spearhead Sumich (rivalling Plugger), whom I seem to recall was held goalless that day, made it all the more joyous a spectacle. It was late in the game then and the game was done and dusted and a thunderous "ST.KILDA - ST.KILDA - ST.KILDA..." chant reverberated right around the stands of Arctic Park and made our hearts sing, warming us up from the cold. It was a great day, indeed. 1992 was a fun season, but it sure as hell got tight in the race for the final top 6 (as it was then). From memory, we actually had to rely on West Coast to beat Carlton in the final round and they didn't let us down. As crazy as it sounds, WCE are the interstate club I dislike the least. I've never had trouble from their fans. They gave Rob Harvey a good tribute one time over at Subi, so I find it difficult to hate on them. They also ran over the top of the Filth in last year's GF, which I was bloody pleased about.
I attended the 1993 game against Brissie at Arctic Park as well. It was bitterly cold and wet. I've actually spotted myself in the highlights reel of that game, waving a big checkerboard Saints flag with the cheer squad. There was another game in 1991 against the Filth where it was so cold, I couldn't feel my hands for most of the day. But it was all part of the experience back then and never really complained about it. I feel sorry for the younger generations in missing out on Waverley, Moorabbin and those other old suburban grounds. There was real atmosphere and it felt electric. One would feel close to the action, too. It was more grassroots footy then. It's a feeling I haven't really experienced ever at Docklands. It's a shame, but I'm thankful I at least got a taste for it at one stage, before it was eradicated by the Evil Empire we call the AFL.