By Andrew Perrett
October 16 2002

This week our man in Melbourne Andrew Perrett looks back at the bleak years as a Walsall fan from an exiled perspective. Andrew also discusses the impact of the Bali Bombings in the region in a postcard extra.

So now you know why I support Walsall, now it’s time to look at how.

I left England in 1991 having been a regular, home and away, for many years. Suddenly I was in Hong Kong and reliant on the South China Morning Post and BBC World Service radio for my news of Walsall.

 Late Saturday evenings spent listening to the radio trying to catch latest scores and updates were depressing. Sunday mornings perusing the small print looking for goal scorers and final scores in the SCMP frequently fruitless. The results and league tables in Monday’s papers hardly satisfying. Phone calls from home giving the odd news regarding signings and sackings no substitute even for the poor coverage from the Depress & Star, or the Walsall Observer. No Cecere, where did Ollerenshaw come from, then the coming of Ligthbourne.

 No other Saddler in sight, so no one to discuss the team with, no one to disagree with, no one to be nostalgic with.

 Problems on the pitch as well as Walsall languished in division 3. Little good news, even when news was available. Up until 1994-5 when 2^nd place saw us again promoted to the second division. About time, and time for a party. Celebration with fellow Saddlers should have been the order of the day, but no one about.

 Ah well, a few beers with friends, many of whom still thought Walsall was in Poland in spite of 3 or 4 years of education. At least we were out of the bottom league; surely it would be back to just missing promotion and maybe making it to the first. No way would we need to be careful to avoid relegation, the Super Saddlers were back in town.

POST CARD EXTRA : The Bali Bomb Blast - Oceania Rocked.

“It’ll never happen to me!”

It’s the view of everyone that tragedies happen to other people. My father emailed me yesterday to check I was not in Bali at the time of the bombing. It’s a regular occurrence that my parents call or email me to check I’m alright after major tragedies occur in Asia. They seem to worry no matter where the disaster strikes. Their knowledge of geography disappearing in the face of potential injury or death of a loved one.

My reaction, as always, “why do they do this?” I’ve never been to Bali: they know I’m in Melbourne. A brief email back saying I was fine and the issue would have slipped my mind completely, consigned to the waste bin of the back of my mind. This couldn’t happen to me, or even anyone I know.

Then today a phone-call from a friend in Hong Kong. A very close friend of mine had flown to Bali to comfort his brother. His brother was at my leaving party in Hong Kong. I have been out drinking through the night with the pair of them many many times, in both Hong Kong and Taiwan. I have worked closely with both of them at my previous employers. I consider both friends.

The brother was one of the luckier ones. At this moment the information I have is that he has a burst eardrum and only minor injuries. He is suffering shock which is why his brother has flown down.

I’ll never complain about the calls and emails from my parents again. Time to call them, I think!