Museums give a sense of identity to a particular group.
They capture the group’s history,
celebrate their success, should never
shy away from highlighting their mistakes.
Here is our Museum then,
our own Blueseum.
A celebration of our identity as faithful Bluebaggers.
An expression of the events,
the players, the memories and experiences
that make this great club, our club.
So what, you may ask, who cares?
And perhaps in times of success
when the sun shines bright upon the green fields
of our club’s endeavours,
perhaps a Blueseum might not be necessary,
more an expression of our arrogance
or an opulent display of what we are
compared to those that struggle beneath.
But, sadly, these are not
the best of times.
These are our Dickensian times
of ‘please sir can I have some more’
and as the wooden spoons fall
from our once perfect tree
like brown leaves signalling
the approach of winter’s dark grip,
it is vital that we faithful Bluebaggers
stand tall and proclaim our love
of all things Navy Blue.
Yes we are on our knees,
Held up for ridicule as all and sundry
make their petty jokes about
all this proud club has achieved in its history.
A butt for the jokes
of the scribes whose empty souls
fill with the misery they can inflict upon others.
Yet even in the low times,
in darkness and despair,
that grand history is still ours to cherish,
to remember for the joy it has brought us.
More importantly, we must embrace this past
and shout it out loud
for our club is the latest tall poppy
to feel the scythe.
People not only scorn us, belittle us,
point their silly fingers and deride us,
they try to reshape us
into a club of dire misery and perpetual failure.
This place then must be our resource,
a deep blue retreat where each of us can visit,
replenish the batteries
and resume the defence of this great club.
We are down
but as this museum shows
we have been down before and we have risen
as we shall again. The celebration of 16 flags,
of champions like Doull, Big Nick, Sticks and Jezza,
the love of this ground, of the jumpers and song
are not about what was but are signposts
for us to shout about what will be again
for we will return to the top,
we will hold that silverware aloft once again
and again and again and again!.
Having been up for so long it was inevitable
that we would fall,
nothing can escape the pull of gravity
and so fall we did, like Icarus
tumbling into the chilling ocean
of the other team’s scorn and mockery;
this great club took its eyes off the ball
and lost its way. But we swim,
we keep our heads above the water,
we paddle or float or do what we must
and we grow strong again,
we draw near once more to the shore.
From there we will rise up;
our Navy blue wings spread
to catch the September sun
as we soar again into the heights
of the Football Season.
So today is a celebration,
to the club, to the past and present players,
to the people, the volunteers and visionaries
who have created this resource
for the Bluebagger community and to our future
to the kids who will one day play for us
to the kids who will wear the new owners’ numbers
to all who will come after we have passed away.
This is our footprint in the sands of Carlton’s life,
our signpost, our statue
rejoice in the club’s achievements
and prepare the way
with voice and heart
for when we come this way again
then we’ll stand on the seats at the MCG
and sing our song so loud the Gods shall hear
and know new champions
will soon taker their seats in the rich pantheon
of this, the greatest Club!
Shine bright forever!
LinksCarlton Poetry Archive
Contributors to this page: Jarusa
Page last modified on Saturday 23 of February, 2013 14:26:18 EST by .
110 online users