How to toughen up your kidsCheryl Critchley | July 01, 2009
WITH all the talk of cotton wool kids, I tell mine that watching the Tigers get thumped so often probably makes them the most resilient at their school.
By the end of this year they will either be the world's toughest tweens or in need of intensive therapy. Or both.
After Sunday's soul-destroying performance against St Kilda, I have finally admitted what friends and colleagues have been telling me (albeit jokingly) for years.
Taking your kids to Richmond games is a form of emotional abuse.
My three - now 6, 8 and 10 - have seen more terrible Tiger thrashings than other kids have had hot dinners.
None can even remember what it's like to make the finals. The eldest was two when we last competed in the finals in 2001.
I've lost count of the times I've had to tell them, "There's always next week."
That is now becoming "next year" and "next decade".
After the weekend, I can probably add: "next millennium".
Following my team is a bit like being in a bad relationship and Sunday night was the perfect example.
Like an unworthy partner, they promise to change, regroup, try harder and show you respect. But inevitably they relapse. Again.
Richmond promised so much early, keeping the Saints goalless for the first quarter. But then they didn't score at all - not a solitary point - until the final term.
We sat like stunned mullets thinking, "Why do we do this to ourselves?"
I'd rather have all my teeth pulled or go on a date with Sam Newman than witness my team lose like that.
But, of course, we stayed until the end.
Thankfully, only Jess saw the game live because my husband refuses to do twilight matches (an excuse to avoid the pain, more likely).
On the train afterwards we just sat there, spent. We didn't even have the energy to get mad. There was just nothing left.
After being promised so much this year, we've been let down. Again. And it hurts.
Remember the lead-up to round one, when we thought that after 27 long years in the wilderness the Tiges were finally turning the corner?
We were at the Richmond-Carlton blockbuster, which had been hyped to within an inch of its life.
We had Ben Cousins. We still had Richo. We'd finished ninth last year and we thought things were on the up. But, of course, we lost. By 83 points.
Sigh.
After counting down the sleeps for six months and joining 9000 at the Richmond Family Day to welcome Cousins, we couldn't have felt more disappointed (unless of course it was Collingwood).
It was like Santa had filled your house with toys then snatched them away on Boxing Day. To make matters worse, we also lost to Melbourne, who are meant to be even more useless than we are.
Then Richo, who has literally carried Richmond for 17 years and is its heart and soul, suffered a serious injury. Could it get any worse? Of course it could. And it has.
Disappointed Demons can at least hop into their four-wheel drives and head to the snow when they lose.
We poor Tiger fans can't even blame the coach - he's already been sacked. We just can't win.
http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25715396-5000117,00.html
