Everyone in Balmain followed a football team, well everyone I knew. When I was young, say from about eight onwards, every Sunday (in the winter that is) from around 1pm the crowds would start the trek down to the Birchgrove oval. The trams would go past our house in Rowntree Street full of people hanging from the sides.
The trams all terminated at the water where the oval was. The people came from all around the area; suburbs like Glebe, Annandale, Drummoyne, Rozelle and Leichhardt. We all had our special teams to follow. Teams like Shamrocks old boys Glebe, Kodocks Gladesville and the Olympics. These were all junior teams playing in the President’s cup division.
Besides all the tramloads of people, people all walked for miles. Hundreds of them strolled past our house carrying blankets, cushions, bags of food and nibblies, and most times an umbrella as we would go rain or shine.
Our little band of kids never went with the adults, as we didn’t pay to get in. We knew where all the loose palings were in the fence and that’s how we got in. It was always a great time. We didn’t spend a lot of time watching the football; we were out to make money. It was a well thought plan we had.
First we had to walk around to see the groups of people that were eating and drinking, and then we would split up and sit next to them. When they were nearly finished drinking we would ask if we could have the empty bottles. Each one we got was worth tuppence.