Post by marinermick on Jun 7, 2005 11:16:43 GMT 10
A Marinator Born!
by Brett Taylor
For a long long time there's been something missing from my life. It was as if I had a hole down in my chest, like the inside of a dormant volcano, waiting to be filled up with fire. I could feel it when I stayed up until 3am to check English Premier League results on the internet. I could feel it when I walked down to the oval on Saturday mornings to watch the Wyoming U14's play, just to get a football fix. I could feel it when I drove past an empty Central Coast stadium on Saturday nights. Then something happened. Something called the A-League was announced, and a club called the Mariners rumbled into existence. It was only a matter of time before the volcano inside me would fill up with red hot passion and erupt in an explosion of singing and chanting...
Rewind 13 years. My family moved to Wyoming when I was five, so I don't have much memory of the first years here. One thing I do remember is pulling on the boots in the early morning mist down at Alan Davidson oval each Saturday, to start a long and highly unsuccessful career as a Wyoming Tiger. My dad's love is motorsport, and my two sisters were marching girls, so besides playing, I had no other exposure to the sport. To me football meant Friday Night Footy with Fatty and Sterlo.
Despite this environment, as the years went on I noticed I was developing a strong love for the world game, mainly due to having like minded friends at school and a fast internet connection. Like many Aussies in the late 90's, I found myself following Leeds due to the presence of the Australian contingent of Kewell and Viduka. For some reason the drama that engulfed that club got me hooked, and the whites have had a place in my heart since. I also remember staying up and watching games from the '98 World Cup as an 11 year old, even though I didn't know any of the players names. And I was lucky enough to see Manchester United play the Socceroos at Stadium Australia in their 1999 off season tour.
But that was it. That's what being a football fan meant to me. Checking websites daily, playing FIFA, watching whatever SBS scored the rights to. I knew of the NSL, but there was never anything on TV about it, and never any talk at school. I was a victim of the Sydney Rugby League media bias. Any small snippets that did filter through to the coast were invariably negative. So I stuck to my routine, watching matches via text commentary, and going to mates houses who had Foxtel whenever possible to catch a game of EPL. If I wanted to watch a national sport, I'd do it the easy way and turn on the NRL.
That's when it all changed.
At first it all sort of slipped by me: there was something about a change in management at Soccer Australia, and some new Australian Premier League. It didn't mean much to me. But when the word came through that the Central Coast would be one of the teams in a revamped, professionally run, highly exclusive national competition, I straightaway knew that my future and this club were going to have plenty to do with each other. I don't know if there was some bloke standing around thinking the same thing somewhere on Merseyside when Liverpool was first created. Or in Madrid when Real started out. But I was feeling the same thing as plenty of people in Australian football: This is the start of something I want to be a part of.
Initially there wasn't much coverage of the Mariners in the local media, so I turned my attentions to a forum I found by googling the club's name. There were only a few members, and they all seemed to know each other from somewhere else. I decided to just ghost around and watch them until I had a better feel for these new surroundings. It seemed I was out of my depth. These guys were the Rowdies! These guys had actually followed club football from the stands! After a couple of months of lurking I nervously signed up and started putting my two cents in. Luckily it turned out that these blokes were alright. Most of them.
Ideas and opinions started flying over the next few months, the members list constantly growing. The nucleus of a group was forming, and although we'd come from different backgrounds, it was clear that we all had one thing in common. We all had that feeling that the Mariners was something we wanted to be part of.
At the centre of it all was someone called MarinerMick. All inside info, latest news, ideas and decision making seemed to run through this character. I didn't know who he was, but he was taking on the leadership role that we needed, and I respected the guy. He seemed to be the man with the connections. If someone asked a question about the Mariners, he had the answer. One day we were talking about possible drinking holes, the next day Mick is best friends with the Events Coordinator at the Leagues Club and has us completely hooked up. He had the balls and the know how to make the right decisions for the group, and I looked up to that.
Everything was going to script. I had this new football team I could dedicate my life to and now there was a whole crew of fanatics ready to do it together. All we needed was a title to run under. Unlike our neighbours down the coast, the Marinators were named with incredible ease. There was no aggro, no big polls, just a communal congratulations towards the mysterious 'Charger', who will go down in history as the namer of the Marinators.
So now we had a name. But I didn't feel like the puzzle was complete. We had a name but not an identity. What defined a Marinator? On May 7 2005 my question was answered.
I was absolutely busting to get into it that morning. I had enough nervous energy running through my veins that if Lawrie had picked me to lead the team onto the green later that night I would have turned in a man of the match performance. I had no idea what to expect, but somehow I felt like the script was already written. Everything had fallen into place so perfectly for us so far, that this moment, this day we had all been waiting for, would surely prove to be the epitome of it all.
I got into Gosford an hour early, so passed the time feasting on a nourishing Subway footlong, then playing some snooker with another Marinator until it was close to 2pm - meeting time. After mingling with the few others that were gathering expectantly, we saw MarinerMick make his way into the room, modelling a beautiful yellow t-shirt. By now I was one of the more frequent visitors to the forums so I introduced myself with a smirk on my face. "Wyoming Tiger! Good to meet you mate!" he said and sold me a shirt, a symbol that I would wear with pride every day for the next week.
After that it was good fun finally putting faces to names. It was like a red carpet event for the Marinators. Blackadder, Pieman, all the big names were in the Kendall Bar! The place filled up and the shirts sold out. A few corners of the bar started rumbling into song as people got to grips with the songsheets that had been distributed. A few beers eased the nerves that had been there earlier, but the tension was building.
Of course there was the dramatic tension; we were about to witness the first matches of the new A-League clubs, potentially the dawning of a long awaited successful era in Australian football history, and our team was going to play in a high stakes match. But what I could really feel was the emotional tension. Behind the light-hearted banter and beer guzzling there was a sense of expectation, a vibe of impending occasion. Everything anyone had contributed up until this point, ideas, information, money, support, was all about to come to a climax. When we made our way to bay 16 all of our effort would come to fruition, and it would be revealed whether the original Marinators would set a successful precedent for the generations to follow.
We did.
Standing in that bay before kickoff, absorbing the moment, soaking up the anticipation of the group, was a very memorable experience. Watching the team run out in the very same colour we were wearing on our backs, I felt that space inside me fill up with fire and come bursting out of my lungs with a scream of "MARINERS!" And though I was no seasoned pro, I sang along with the rest of them, and never once was I uncomfortable, unsure, or out of place. I was at home. I was a Marinator born.
It became obvious by half time that all expectations had been exceeded. Whatever happened in the match with Newcastle, we had proven the doubters wrong. The Central Coast based Mariners had the core support that would see it flourish in the fledgling A-League. But as the game drew towards a goalless conclusion, the ominous truth set in that another chapter was yet to be written. When the penalty shootout was determined I knew it was up to the football gods how triumphant our first foray into bay 16 would be. Luckily it was meant to be, and the rest is history.
Later in the week I had the honour of speaking on NBN news and in the Express Advocate about our exploits, as the local media jumped on our runaway bandwagon of raging success. In our first match engagement against the Sydney fans we notched up a resounding victory, ironic that our brand new club was light years ahead of it's competition in the vocal support department. The final result on the field didn't go our way but for me that was a minor detail. Under the circumstances no one was worried about the team's on-field performance or getting onto the world stage. The Mariners, and the Marinators, had plainly been the success story of the WCC tournament.
I now have to cool my heels writing feature pieces while I patiently wait for the arrival of the league. I cant wait for a week-to-week adventure that will surely dominate my life for six months of every year in the foreseeable future. Even though I've only had a small taste, I already feel an itch that can only be scratched by getting back amongst the chaos in the terraces.
Fate, destiny, I am so appreciative of whatever force put this football club in my path, and created this monster of a supporters group that facilitates my passion. I am so happy that there are dozens of likeminded spirits I'll get to share this journey with. And I am so proud to have been here from the start.
Brett Taylor - aka Wyoming Tiger
by Brett Taylor
For a long long time there's been something missing from my life. It was as if I had a hole down in my chest, like the inside of a dormant volcano, waiting to be filled up with fire. I could feel it when I stayed up until 3am to check English Premier League results on the internet. I could feel it when I walked down to the oval on Saturday mornings to watch the Wyoming U14's play, just to get a football fix. I could feel it when I drove past an empty Central Coast stadium on Saturday nights. Then something happened. Something called the A-League was announced, and a club called the Mariners rumbled into existence. It was only a matter of time before the volcano inside me would fill up with red hot passion and erupt in an explosion of singing and chanting...
Rewind 13 years. My family moved to Wyoming when I was five, so I don't have much memory of the first years here. One thing I do remember is pulling on the boots in the early morning mist down at Alan Davidson oval each Saturday, to start a long and highly unsuccessful career as a Wyoming Tiger. My dad's love is motorsport, and my two sisters were marching girls, so besides playing, I had no other exposure to the sport. To me football meant Friday Night Footy with Fatty and Sterlo.
Despite this environment, as the years went on I noticed I was developing a strong love for the world game, mainly due to having like minded friends at school and a fast internet connection. Like many Aussies in the late 90's, I found myself following Leeds due to the presence of the Australian contingent of Kewell and Viduka. For some reason the drama that engulfed that club got me hooked, and the whites have had a place in my heart since. I also remember staying up and watching games from the '98 World Cup as an 11 year old, even though I didn't know any of the players names. And I was lucky enough to see Manchester United play the Socceroos at Stadium Australia in their 1999 off season tour.
But that was it. That's what being a football fan meant to me. Checking websites daily, playing FIFA, watching whatever SBS scored the rights to. I knew of the NSL, but there was never anything on TV about it, and never any talk at school. I was a victim of the Sydney Rugby League media bias. Any small snippets that did filter through to the coast were invariably negative. So I stuck to my routine, watching matches via text commentary, and going to mates houses who had Foxtel whenever possible to catch a game of EPL. If I wanted to watch a national sport, I'd do it the easy way and turn on the NRL.
That's when it all changed.
At first it all sort of slipped by me: there was something about a change in management at Soccer Australia, and some new Australian Premier League. It didn't mean much to me. But when the word came through that the Central Coast would be one of the teams in a revamped, professionally run, highly exclusive national competition, I straightaway knew that my future and this club were going to have plenty to do with each other. I don't know if there was some bloke standing around thinking the same thing somewhere on Merseyside when Liverpool was first created. Or in Madrid when Real started out. But I was feeling the same thing as plenty of people in Australian football: This is the start of something I want to be a part of.
Initially there wasn't much coverage of the Mariners in the local media, so I turned my attentions to a forum I found by googling the club's name. There were only a few members, and they all seemed to know each other from somewhere else. I decided to just ghost around and watch them until I had a better feel for these new surroundings. It seemed I was out of my depth. These guys were the Rowdies! These guys had actually followed club football from the stands! After a couple of months of lurking I nervously signed up and started putting my two cents in. Luckily it turned out that these blokes were alright. Most of them.
Ideas and opinions started flying over the next few months, the members list constantly growing. The nucleus of a group was forming, and although we'd come from different backgrounds, it was clear that we all had one thing in common. We all had that feeling that the Mariners was something we wanted to be part of.
At the centre of it all was someone called MarinerMick. All inside info, latest news, ideas and decision making seemed to run through this character. I didn't know who he was, but he was taking on the leadership role that we needed, and I respected the guy. He seemed to be the man with the connections. If someone asked a question about the Mariners, he had the answer. One day we were talking about possible drinking holes, the next day Mick is best friends with the Events Coordinator at the Leagues Club and has us completely hooked up. He had the balls and the know how to make the right decisions for the group, and I looked up to that.
Everything was going to script. I had this new football team I could dedicate my life to and now there was a whole crew of fanatics ready to do it together. All we needed was a title to run under. Unlike our neighbours down the coast, the Marinators were named with incredible ease. There was no aggro, no big polls, just a communal congratulations towards the mysterious 'Charger', who will go down in history as the namer of the Marinators.
So now we had a name. But I didn't feel like the puzzle was complete. We had a name but not an identity. What defined a Marinator? On May 7 2005 my question was answered.
I was absolutely busting to get into it that morning. I had enough nervous energy running through my veins that if Lawrie had picked me to lead the team onto the green later that night I would have turned in a man of the match performance. I had no idea what to expect, but somehow I felt like the script was already written. Everything had fallen into place so perfectly for us so far, that this moment, this day we had all been waiting for, would surely prove to be the epitome of it all.
I got into Gosford an hour early, so passed the time feasting on a nourishing Subway footlong, then playing some snooker with another Marinator until it was close to 2pm - meeting time. After mingling with the few others that were gathering expectantly, we saw MarinerMick make his way into the room, modelling a beautiful yellow t-shirt. By now I was one of the more frequent visitors to the forums so I introduced myself with a smirk on my face. "Wyoming Tiger! Good to meet you mate!" he said and sold me a shirt, a symbol that I would wear with pride every day for the next week.
After that it was good fun finally putting faces to names. It was like a red carpet event for the Marinators. Blackadder, Pieman, all the big names were in the Kendall Bar! The place filled up and the shirts sold out. A few corners of the bar started rumbling into song as people got to grips with the songsheets that had been distributed. A few beers eased the nerves that had been there earlier, but the tension was building.
Of course there was the dramatic tension; we were about to witness the first matches of the new A-League clubs, potentially the dawning of a long awaited successful era in Australian football history, and our team was going to play in a high stakes match. But what I could really feel was the emotional tension. Behind the light-hearted banter and beer guzzling there was a sense of expectation, a vibe of impending occasion. Everything anyone had contributed up until this point, ideas, information, money, support, was all about to come to a climax. When we made our way to bay 16 all of our effort would come to fruition, and it would be revealed whether the original Marinators would set a successful precedent for the generations to follow.
We did.
Standing in that bay before kickoff, absorbing the moment, soaking up the anticipation of the group, was a very memorable experience. Watching the team run out in the very same colour we were wearing on our backs, I felt that space inside me fill up with fire and come bursting out of my lungs with a scream of "MARINERS!" And though I was no seasoned pro, I sang along with the rest of them, and never once was I uncomfortable, unsure, or out of place. I was at home. I was a Marinator born.
It became obvious by half time that all expectations had been exceeded. Whatever happened in the match with Newcastle, we had proven the doubters wrong. The Central Coast based Mariners had the core support that would see it flourish in the fledgling A-League. But as the game drew towards a goalless conclusion, the ominous truth set in that another chapter was yet to be written. When the penalty shootout was determined I knew it was up to the football gods how triumphant our first foray into bay 16 would be. Luckily it was meant to be, and the rest is history.
Later in the week I had the honour of speaking on NBN news and in the Express Advocate about our exploits, as the local media jumped on our runaway bandwagon of raging success. In our first match engagement against the Sydney fans we notched up a resounding victory, ironic that our brand new club was light years ahead of it's competition in the vocal support department. The final result on the field didn't go our way but for me that was a minor detail. Under the circumstances no one was worried about the team's on-field performance or getting onto the world stage. The Mariners, and the Marinators, had plainly been the success story of the WCC tournament.
I now have to cool my heels writing feature pieces while I patiently wait for the arrival of the league. I cant wait for a week-to-week adventure that will surely dominate my life for six months of every year in the foreseeable future. Even though I've only had a small taste, I already feel an itch that can only be scratched by getting back amongst the chaos in the terraces.
Fate, destiny, I am so appreciative of whatever force put this football club in my path, and created this monster of a supporters group that facilitates my passion. I am so happy that there are dozens of likeminded spirits I'll get to share this journey with. And I am so proud to have been here from the start.
Brett Taylor - aka Wyoming Tiger
