I wasn’t born into a footballing family. But the older I grew, the more I realised how one game was the beginning of my affection for life.
Childhood memories often hold funny and bizarre recollections that are vague in parts. But there are few things that stand out from this cloudy day at North Hobart in early 1998. From the Murray to the Derwent – I was a nine-year-old kid raised on rivers moving from Riverina town of Albury, to Olde Hobart Town a couple of years prior. And there was a lot to learn about the culture of an Aussie Rules match in Tassie. Continue reading “HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE THE TIGERS AND FOOTBALL AT NORTH HOBART OVAL”