A quarter of a century after their last game, Balmain boys still cry
On this day 25 years ago, referee Tim Mander blew his whistle on a 42-14 defeat to the Raiders, drawing the curtain on 91 years of Balmain in the top grade.
In the stands there was sadness and anger that it had come to this, a begrudging acceptance, and much pride, joy and gratitude for our great club. Twenty-five years on and that mixture of feelings remain for me.
To be a fly on the wall in the dressing rooms post-match. I wonder what it was like for players and staff? I assume a sombre mood? A collection of young men not knowing perhaps what the future held for them; how did Tiger icons such as Wayne “Junior” Pearce and super fan Laurie Nichols react in the moment?
In the stands that day, it was almost impossible to concentrate on the game. We were hoping for that one, last, great performance to stick in our memory. However, a more experienced Raiders outfit were the better team on the day.
The game itself was almost irrelevant. We had come to say goodbye. Goodbye to an institution. Goodbye to a connection. Goodbye to what we knew and what felt like home.
We cheered with gusto as Darren Senter and Laloa Milford crossed the try line. We shadow-boxed with Laurie for one last time.
None of us wanted to hear that final whistle from Tim Mander – that piercing sound cut across a crisp Canberra afternoon breeze like a knife. Whilst the game was still alive, Balmain was still alive. Eighty minutes passed too quickly.
Final game … Balmain fan Laurie Nichols with James Webster after the Tigers last game in 1999© Paul Harris
Throughout the match I found myself eavesdropping on conversations nearby. The faithful were sharing their memories.
At the time, I was a 21-year-old uni student and attended with my mate Stu, another Tiger tragic. Life was simple. The only hurdle that day was hoping there was $2 in loose change in Stu’s XE Ford Falcon glove box to buy a Big Mac on the way to the match.
After the whistle, the team came over to our pocket at Bruce Stadium for a goodbye. Old-school photos were taken – for anyone reading this under 25 that means taken by a camera with actual film that had to be developed at a Kodak centre! Autographs were signed and we all just lingered and hoped to stay in the moment. I wasn’t ready for closure and I suspect neither were those around me.
The players eventually departed for the sanctuary of the dressing room.
As much as we didn’t want to, it was time to leave.
Silence is what I can remember. A few thousand Tiger fans marching in silence. Lost in the thoughts and memories, I suspect.
Trying to locate Stu’s XE Falcon in the car park, I shed a tear and dispelled the myth that Balmain boys don’t cry. I can confirm I wasn’t on my own.
Twenty-five years now gone since that historic day. It feels like an occasion that should be recognised. The feelings (at least for me) remain.
Twenty-five years and I’m
still angry the NRL forced our hand to merge. Did it really have to come to this? Souths marched back in, the Bears are coming out of hibernation and now PNG. The game found a home for more teams eventually. Do the NRL care for those of us left behind or are we just collateral damage?
When I read the headlines in 2023 that the Blue Wiggle was going to save us, I clung onto that hope for two hours like someone lost at sea would a life raft. The first sign of hope in 24 years was but a mirage, or as the Balmain Tigers executive put it that day “fanciful and unrealistic”.
Twenty-five years and I still hold the begrudging acceptance it had to be this way. I get it. I really do. That doesn’t mean I have to like it. The Leagues Club is caput, the club doesn’t have coin stashed in the bank. The economics didn’t stack up and many good Balmain people weighed it all up in 1999 and decided a merger was the best way to go to preserve as much history as possible.
It is great Balmain fans have the opportunity to continue the connection through the Wests Tigers and there is now a new generation that only know the new identity. I wish them nothing but success, but it just doesn’t capture me.
The Balmain club is doing a great job with things such as the new website and merchandise and still giving local kids a pathway to the top. Hats off to them.
Am I just living in the past and need to move on? Perhaps. I know I won’t though.
Twenty-five years and I still hold as much pride, joy and gratitude for our great club as ever. I’m still that 10-year-old who wished the tactic of flying Blocker over to the UK to serve his suspension would get him to the grand final. I’m still that teenager who read every page of Sirro’s autobiography three times over and wrote him a fan letter. I’m still that daggy uni student who thought wrongly that girls would be impressed and talk to me while I was wearing a fluorescent orange Balmain tracksuit.
Twenty-five years and I am still a Balmain Tiger.
Whatever the 25-year passing of time means to you, I hope you can find the opportunity to pause and reflect at some stage on your memories and the joy it has brought us all to have been a supporter of the mighty Balmain Tigers.
Black and gold, we never fold.
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