As I walked along Olympic Boulevard on a breezy evening, my attention was grabbed by the most perfectly designed cathedral of football; AAMI Park. It rises out of the horizon as you approach nearby Richmond, perhaps symbolic of the way Australian football has proudly risen over the past five years. The buzz around the outside walkways sent chills up my spine and confirmed the excitement and emotion that Melbourne's newest club is set to bring to the league.
I approached the turnstile amidst the buzz of excited chatter and slid my membership card under the scanner, producing a green light: my guarantee that I would witness one of the most important moments in my club's history and the first ever A-League match at AAMI Park. Once inside, I was greeted by the most brilliantly illuminated shade of green, the pitch declaring itself ready as it shone across the concrete walkways. I walked closer towards the glow and was captivated by how close supporters are seated to the pitch; within an arms distance of their heroes and most despised foes.
I continued walking through the concrete labyrinth searching for my seat, listening to the predictions, opinions and tactical suggestions which whirled past. My seat eventually appeared and the scene was set; after a year of anxious waiting, kickoff was moments away. The pitch was framed perfectly by the surrounding terrace, united in voice and colour. The only exceptions were the dedicated Mariners faithful who made the journey down from their Bluetongued homeland, small in numbers but strong in voice, they too were a part of our historical moment.
The 11,500 gathered heard referee Chris Beath breathe life into his whistle and our inaugural season. Within seconds we had our first touch, drawing an eruption of noise from the crowd. A few minutes in and Brazilian livewire Alex Terra had a fantastic chance to write himself into Heart folklore, but he could only direct his rushed shot towards the advancing Jess Vanstrattan. The momentum seemed promising and the wide distribution / possession tactics allowed us to hold the ball for long periods. A quick break saw the Mariners end up with a well taken John Hutchinson corner which evaded everyone as Alex Wilkinson powered a header goalwards...
Silence.
You can hear the joy from the five or so Mariners players who huddle together celebrating a well worked set piece. The next 74 minutes are excruciating, watching several chances fly agonisingly wide or hide, wishing every near chance would result differently on the big screen replay. Perhaps the hardest chance to watch was the last corner which saw Clint Bolton sprint up in desperation and blast a header skywards.
The final whistle sounds and it hurts. As we walk back towards the tram stop our frustration is aimed (incorrectly but at the time any scapegoat will do) at the ref and his assistants in a desperate effort to save face and push the result away from our boys' effort. On reflection, it was an amazing night and regardless of a score, a proud moment for all in attendance.
