SINCE 2006 the Reds have been propped up financially by the Father Christmas of football in South Australia, Nick Bianco.
Generous to a fault, he has provided the off-field platform on which the efforts on the pitch over the last few years have been built.
The effects of the global financial crisis are far reaching and no one is exempt, not even if you drive a sleigh instead of a car. Put simply, the sack is nowhere near as full as it once was.
Fans have a strange relationship with the owner of the team they support. Generally as unwashed masses we are thankful that our team has the underpinning of someone who is committed (or should that be silly?) enough to put their proverbials on the line. Football team ownership rarely brings financial reward; in fact it's quite the opposite.
As the fans congregate on the terraces and bask in the odour of hot chips, the great, benevolent, owner-being resides elsewhere. It's a different world altogether, the mysterious, pampered domain that is the corporate box suite on high.
Still, we have our common ground. We both hope desperately that our team will win and likewise we both have the animal urge to duck out for a whiz at half-time. Bodily functions are a great leveller.
One of the great constants of the A-League is the propensity towards regular change. You just get settled with the location of the hot chips vendor and they go and move them around.
So now I'm faced with the prospect of sitting my eleven year old stepson down and dutifully explaining to him that 'there really is no Santa'. Alas, such is life.
Hopefully after a short but necessary period of ownership by the elves at FFA headquarters we might one day yet again see (a different) Santa fuelling the Reds' ambitions. Whether that's a good thing or not is probably the subject of a future musing.
Anyway for now, thanks Nick. Your generosity to the club has been appreciated.
If I ever see you at a home game the chips are on me.
