Just like old times...

Sometimes people ask me why I support the Bulldogs even though I grew up in the Eastern Suburbs where I still live. This blog post is the best answer I can give.

I remember the early 1990s rugby league heyday. Back then the comp was called the Winfield Cup, there were no joint ventures and Tina Turner's "The Best" spruiked the code on television screens across NSW.

As a high school kid we were lucky to get free season tickets to regular round matches, and we made good use of them. (Even without them admission for us in those days was only $3!) Every weekend, a bunch of us would meet outside Grace Bros in Bondi Junction and jump on a train, or a bus or whatever mode of transport we needed to get out to the footy.

Now I'd been a Canterbury fan since 1985, when they were the reigning (and soon to be back-to-back) premiers. 1985 was the year I started collecting Scanlens footy stickers. I remember as premiers the Dogs had a special middle section in the sticker album, and all the stickers were bordered in silver.

But after around 1986 I had a couple of years where I lost a bit of interest in footy. Coming up through primary school I was distracted by my first crush in year five then a year later I discovered rock music. If you'd asked me who my footy team was in those years I would have answered that it was Canterbury but I had no idea how they were faring in what was then the New South Wales Rugby League. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't even watch the 1988 grand final victory.

1992 was the year it changed, and the year my true love for the Blue and Whites was cemented. Which brings us back to the beginning of this tale.

The core group of us was Cliff, Mark and myself. Sometimes other guys joined us, depending on who "we" were playing. I remember that year, in what used to be a 22 round season we went to at least 16 regular games. Every other weekend it was at Belmore, and in the rounds in between we went to North Sydney Oval, Jubilee Stadium, Caltex Field (now Toyota Park), the Sydney Football Stadium and Brookvale Oval, to name a few.

Our heroes were Terry Lamb and Ewan McGrady. Coming up through the ranks we were entertained by legends in the making Darren Smith, Dean Pay and Jarrod McCracken. I remember current Dogs coach Kevin Moore running around in the number seven a couple of times, though the first-choice half was Craig Polla-Mounter.

Canterbury struggled that year. We won a couple of good games, one notably against that year's eventual premiers the Brisbane Broncos, but lost more than we won, including capitulating to a then-terrible South Sydney outfit and going down by a point to Newcastle after "Baa" kicked a field goal thinking it was 10-all when we in fact down by two.

Canterbury finished that season on 22 points, just missing out on the top five. But they were good times. We were teenagers without worries. I wasn't paying rent or running a motor vehicle. I wasn't concerned about building a career. The only thing I had to worry about was that weekend's game.

The years flew by and my love for the Bulldogs never waned, even if the number of games I went to shrunk year by year. I always made sure to go at least once in a season, and in more recent times have managed around four games per year. I have even flown to Melbourne twice and up to the Gold Coast to see the team play.

Yesterday (Sunday) I went to the Roosters vs Bulldogs game. Cliff organised a bunch of us to go - he'd been living in Melbourne for the four years up to December 2009 and is now married with a baby due next month. Through Facebook he'd started talking to Mark again for the first time in years and invited him along too. Hence the core of our 1992 Bulldogs fan group was reunited.

As you know the Roosters prevailed in a roller-coaster ride of a match. The Chooks kept one foot in front for most of the first half before Canterbury finished the first 40 ahead. The start of the second stanza belonged to the Dogs who looked like winning it until the Roosters came back stunningly with two tries in the final ten minutes to seal the win.

All through it the three of us shared the agony and ecstasy of every play as if no time had passed since 1992. Canterbury tries brought high-fives, Roosters tries glum silence. Ref calls against us met with cries of "whaddaya mean, ref?" or "open your eyes!" while decisions in our favour (and there were some sketchy ones, I'll admit) were greeted with "we'll take it!". We stood in our seats every time the line was broken, uttering "ooh" and "ahh" as the game played out. I sat next to Mark, who I hadn't seen in years, discussing players and team tactics as if the last time we'd done so was only last week.

And in doing so, even though we lost, I was reminded of one of the things I love so much about the game of rugby league. I can watch other sports, but none will take me back to a time I remember so fondly. In the moment, watching our beloved Dogs, there we were again, those three teenagers barracking for our beloved team.

So much has happened in the years since 1992. I have studied at a variety of tertiary organisations. I have tried three career paths before settling into my current one. I have lived overseas and travelled to different parts of the world. I have fallen in love and have had my heart broken. But on Sunday I was taken back to the 16-year-old that was yet to live those experiences.

As the game played out on the field before us, our jobs weren't in our minds. Rents, mortgages, bills - we were in a dimension where none of it mattered. Our responsibilities could wait until later.

The Bulldogs were playing.