From working class to hipster haven, but still footy mad

Collingwood shares a border with Fitzroy, the original birthplace of the Brisbane Lions. And while the area today is thick with hipster hangouts, the hardscrabble suburban roots are strong.

One side of Smith St in Melbourne is Collingwood and the other side is Fitzroy. Collingwood supporter Cameron Doyle is the owner of a memorabilia shop on the street. Picture: Valeriu Campan

On the eve of Collingwood’s 45th grand final appearance, the Magpie memes are thick in the social media air and familiar to anyone from Melbourne.

Riffs on teeth, specifically the lack of them, abound. Prisons get mentioned. Dysfunctional families are frequent.

Supporters of their opponents, Brisbane, and disinterested observers from other parts of Australia may not be as familiar with the stereotypes, but there is only one thing to understand: if you support the Magpies you are part of a cult that is as passionate as it is pilloried.

It is a given in those parts that you either love ’em or hate ’em. For much of Australian rules history, the one thing all football supporters not from that suburb could agree on was that you hated Collingwood.

The only thing better than beating the Pies by 10 goals, they say, is beating them by a point.

“I think most of us take it as a badge of honour,” says club historian and lifelong cult member ­Michael Roberts. “We belong to Collingwood. We love this place, we love the footy club, we love the whole crazy story.

“That’s who we are, we are not fussed by people poking fun at us because that is part of what you get when you sign up to be a Collingwood person, and you learn it very quickly.

“For the vast majority of my time following Collingwood, if you were not for us you were against us. The vast majority of other clubs dislike Collingwood more than other clubs. We’re totally fine with that.”

Smith Street in Melbourne before the grand Final. Picture: Valeriu Campan

Collingwood shares a border with Fitzroy, the original birthplace of the Lions. They own the low side of Smith St and while the area today is thick with hipster hangouts, record bars and cool cafes, the hardscrabble suburban roots of the Collingwood’s heritage are strong.

It was, as Roberts admits, an “unsavoury” area for much of the club’s first century. The Magpies were a grassroots outfit, born in the depression in what was Melbourne’s toughest and poorest area.

It was no coincidence that Frank Hardy set his book Power Without Glory around a suburb modelled on Collingwood, for no place combined the violence, poverty, criminality and political corruption that this petri dish provided.

From the start they were wholly and unquestionably embraced. Their first game attracted tens of thousands, their membership was soon the biggest in the Victorian Football League, their appearance in grand finals frequent and the Colliwobbles that saw them lose eight on the trot an agony for their supporters and an ecstasy for supporters of the other clubs.

David Williamson had little choice but to set his play The Club at the Collingwood for it was the game’s most fascinating football outfit and the competition’s fulcrum.

Following Collingwood is not for everyone, Roberts admits, but their following is unrivalled in football. This year they averaged 63,000 spectators a game.

Roberts says the contempt of the football community is worn like a “badge of honour” but admits these days the area is changing and the club with football’s greatest heritage and history does not have a monopoly on those who live on its formerly mean streets.

He suggests too, that the modern Collingwood, divested of dividing figures like the past few club presidents and profiting under the pastoral care of coach Craig McRae have won a begrudging respect from the football community.

Smith St, recently voted the “world’s coolest street”, is still the dividing line between Collingwood and everybody else, but it, like the game and the club, is a place in transition.

There’s no turf war here, as supporters from both sides of the street celebrate with their white and black – or blue, maroon and gold colours.

Cameron Doyle, a former Collingwood player in the 80s, is the owner of Memorabilia on Smith, a treasure trove of sports rarities that has been around for 16 years.

Doyle runs the shop with his son, and used to enlist the help of his father before Covid lockdowns.

“I love the history of the club, and then I started collecting stuff and now I’ve got a museum in my house. You know, about 400-year-old cabinets full of stuff and stuff all over the walls,” he said.

But while the store was bustling with sports fans young and old on a Thursday afternoon, Doyle said he would close up for good around Christmas.

“There’s a lot of restaurants and nightclubs and coffee shops and stuff like that. And, our theory is, we don’t have many competitors in this kind of shop anymore. And the fact that we’re leaving is a bit sad,” he said.

Collingwood fan, butcher Joe Mittica at his shop. Picture: Valeriu Campan

Joe Mittica, owner of butcher Joe’s on Smith, has also garnered a reputation for being one of the street’s avid Pies fans.

The butcher has been delivering quality meats to the community since 1976 and was once known as Jonathan’s on Smith, named after the late Jonathan Gianfreda.

Mittica mastered his craft under Jonathan, and ahead of the long weekend was frantically making sausages.

“I supported Collingwood when I first came here. I started working here on Saturday, and then I would walk down to Victoria Park as a 12-year-old and, since then, I’ve been going to the football game with my boys,” Mittica said.

Decorated in black and white banners, posters and magpies, the butcher shop attracts people off the street to talk footy.

“You know, I don’t mind the haters. That’s what we like about it. We always want people to like us. I don’t mind people hating us either. It gives us something to go and give them back,” he joked.

Owner of Wah Wah Records Ben Treyvaud, a Geelong fan barracking for the Brisbane Lions, says there’s a decent football fraternity in the area.

“You always see football fans. There’s always you know, people walking with their scarfs because a lot of people park their cars around here and then walk into the G,” Treyvaud said. “I will be following Brissie ­because of the Fitzroy connection, and because I absolutely hate Collingwood.”

Brisbane fan Kristine in front of a memorabilia shop on Smith St. Picture: Valeriu Campan

The clientele range from teens buying their first records up to 70-year-olds rekindling their love for the medium amid the vinyl revival.

Kristine, a Brisbane Lions supporter who moved from the sunshine state to Fitzroy, lives in the area and said it was interesting to see one side of the street “battling” the other.

“It’s a very happy coincidence that we moved from Brisbane to Fitzroy and that they are our team and we get to enjoy the grand final. It’s a nice way to celebrate,” she said.

Ahead of the long weekend, Chris Freedman and his son Henry took a trip down Smith St and stopped over at the Birmingham Hotel, which is booked out on Saturday.

The Perth father and son have walked the area for the third time during their trip for the final.

“I lived in Melbourne as a boy and was given a Collingwood jumper. Then we moved to the US, and Geelong and Collingwood came to play in Florida and Collingwood won,” Chris said.

“I returned to Australia in 1990 and Collingwood won the grand final. I encouraged my son Henry to go for a local Perth team, but he chose to go for Collingwood. I think he’s got it worse than I have.”

Collingwood Footy fans Chris Freedman and his son Henry, 13. Picture: Valeriu Campan

Manager at the Collingwood Hotel John Doyle said the pub draws in a strong crowd of both Fitzroy Lions fans and Pies supporters. It was booked out for Saturday 12 hours after the semi-final games finished last weekend.

“It’s exciting. Specifically because we’re so close to the Collingwood-Fitzroy border. We actually get a lot of old Fitzroy supporters and obviously we’re a large Collingwood base,” he said.

The 23-year-old has worked at the pub for over a year and has lived in the area for five years now.

“I just love the street. I love what it’s evolved to be. I’m still discovering things that I didn’t know when I first moved here. But every nook and cranny you’ve got something that will add to your week.”

Doyle said he enjoyed frequenting the cafes and record stores. “I do get into that. I started dressing differently since living here,” he joked.