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My aim as a parent is for my children to grow up to love three things. Firstly, Jesus. Secondly, their mum. And thirdly, the Wests Tigers. Now if I am being completely honest, I would settle for just the first two. But it’s the third item I would like to write about now.

The Tigers have been a very significant part of my life since I was 10 years old, long before both Jesus and my wife overtook them on my priority list. The reasons why I became so entwined with my beloved rugby league team are not so obvious. I did not play rugby league growing up. It was not something anyone in my family encouraged. I did not even live in the area. My father took me to a few matches at Leichhardt Oval, with tickets he was given by a work colleague, and somehow, I became hooked.

In the 35 years I have been supporting the Tigers, there have been ups (a few) and downs (a few more). I have learned many lessons. I want to share some of them with you.

1.     It is good to be part of something bigger than yourself.

There is something special about being part of something bigger. While individual endeavour and achievement is fine, there is something deeply fulfilling about the sense of connectedness that people experience through shared experiences and being part of a larger movement. This can be found through many different types of things, but attaching yourself to a sports team is an easy way to experience this. Not only do you feel a connection to the team right now, but there is also a connection to the team’s past and as well as its future. The longer you stick with the team, the stronger the feeling grows. To be in a crowd of mostly strangers to be screaming shouts of joy (or pain) with the fortunes of your team is a remarkable experience.

If I ever see anyone wearing a Tigers jersey, I instantly know we share something in common, even if I have never met the jersey wearer, or even if I have never met any of the jersey wearer’s friends or family.

2.     Hopes don’t always become reality…

I always hope the Tigers win their next match. I always hope this season will be better than the last. I always hope the new coach will make things better than the old coach. I always hope that the young talent coming through the junior system will become a superstar and stick with the Tigers forever. I always hope the Tigers can win the premiership this year.

In my 35 years following the Tigers, my hopes have not always become reality. I have seen them lose more games than they win, and improvements in performance have been rare and usually short-lived.

Following the Tigers has taught me that even when things do not go as I had hoped, it usually is not the end of the world. There is always next week, next month, next year. From this, I have learned to recognise that losing and disappointment is a normal part of life. And that’s OK.

3.     …until they do!

There are many important years in my life. The year of my birth. The year I completed the HSC. The year I got married. The year each of my children were born. The year I started working at William Clarke College. But never did I have a year filled with more surprise than 2005.

After years of missing out on the finals, midway through the season the Tigers were languishing in the bottom half of the ladder. They had shown some promising moments early in the season, but lacked consistency, particularly in defence. Then, all of sudden, things clicked. They started winning. And winning. And winning. Just like that, they had put together 8 wins in a row, and were seemingly unstoppable. They went on to win each of their finals matches to become premiers. At the halfway point of the season, the thought of the Tigers being premiers that year was almost unthinkable. But this most unlikely of hopes actually became.

I learned in 2005 that ambitious achievements are possible. Having lived through many years without much success made the excitement just that much greater. 2005 is a year I will never forget.

4.     Football is important – but it’s not most important

I have enjoyed my love affair with the Tigers. I enjoy riding the highs and lows of my team, and the connections I feel with people I know and people I don’t. I marvel at the talents of players and wonder what will come around the corner. Will Jerome Luai be the outstanding leader the team needs? Will Taylan May make the NSW Origin Team this year? Will Lachie Galvin be the superstar I want him to become? Will he stick with the Tigers? I don’t know the answers to these questions. Yet. But I also know that they are not the most important questions in life.

Most people forget the results of most games, even the big ones. Do you know (without the internet) who won the 1972 Grand Final? And which team they beat? Probably not.

I have lost count of the number of times I have walked past former champion players at the shops or in the street. After their brief moment in the spotlight, I have noticed that they simply return to being normal people, just like the rest of us. From the reliable snippets I know of their lives, they share the same range of experiences the rest of us do. They find joy from friendships and family relationships. They make mistakes, including hurting people close to them. Their lives share the same fragility ours do, suffering the same health concerns – both physical and mental – that the rest of us do. I have discovered that some of the highest achievers are also some of the most insecure and unfulfilled people. I think this is because, despite what their fame, glory and social media presence suggest, they are still human like the rest of us and need the same fundamental things in life as the rest of us.

I sometimes wonder whether the bitter disappointments I have experienced as a Tigers fan are gifts from God, reminding me not to expect my football team to give me what my heart longs for and what my soul needs. While I may have hope in the Tigers, I know it is wishful thinking to expect them to win continuously. And I have learned that even when they do win, as much as I love it, the joy is brief and is certainly not the essential ingredient to a flourishing life. I have realised that for me, my experience with the Tigers is a pointer to something bigger, more important, more secure and unquestionably better. It is a pointer to the hope that Jesus offers through his death and resurrection, being connected to something more fulfilling, joyful and significant than any premiership ring.

I look forward to the days with Jesus when the uncertainty and disappointment of human frailty disappears. But in the meantime, I will still be cheering on my Tigers, and I hope my three sons will too.