Well before I knew anything about football (aged five), I started supporting the Melbourne Demons. Not because I knew much about football, but because I fancied a girl whose whole family followed the team. For me it seemed the most obvious tactic - follow the team that will help her like me. The fact that she was about 5 years older than me and a good foot taller had nothing to do with it.

Like my naïve romantic fantasies, my football fantasies demonstrated equal naivety and frustration.

There is no need to refer to my romantic follies any further.

Nearly sixty years later, I still 'follow' Melbourne but what incredible pain.

Sure, Melbourne won a number of finals in the '50s and then finally in 1964; but I was too young to really appreciate the finals won in the '50s. Only the 1964 premiership sort of stays in the memory.

Next year will be a half century since the last success. Fifty years! I can hardly believe it.

Melbourne are the oldest team in the league and have a reputation of being the 'blue bloods', 'the gentry', 'the upper class'. Such rarefied status may be the cause of their relative failure. If you're a blue-blood, gentry, upper class; then why do you need to be desperate about anything - and football is merely a game - no need to get stressed about it!

About 20 years ago, the penny dropped for me. I recognised that supporting Melbourne was bad for my health. The stress I felt during a game and my inevitable massive disappointment after the game was affecting me badly - my blood pressure sky rocketed and I often felt dizzy and nauseous.

I stopped going to matches because I honestly feared having a heart attack - I was getting that upset.

I then stopped listening to matches on the radio, only occasionally checking progressive scores. I then moved to not getting progressive scores because losing was the most common outcome, so what was the point. I would accidently hear the final scores on that night's news broadcast.

So that has been the status for about 10 years now. I would tell my friends that it was a bit like the wonderful relief one feels when someone stops hitting you in the head with a hammer.

That state of denial and footy-reclusiveness changed two days ago.

My son-in-law's parents have been visiting from the UK. I insisted that they go to a good match at the MCG to see the redeveloped spectacular arena - and see Aussie football.

What I hadn't contemplated was that they wanted me to go to explain the game - and to get visitor tickets to the Member's stand.

I was happy to go - until I found out that it was the Melbourne versus Essendon match. Oh shit!

Well, after having moulded my mind and body to become immune to anything that football could throw at me, I was being flung right back into it.

I wondered whether Melbourne could rise to the occasion and make me proud - or at least not ashamed.

Without boring you with the excruciating detail, Melbourne were absolutely pathetic - the biggest losing margin to Essendon - EVER. I have never seen them play so poorly - and I have been disappointed for a very, very, very long time.

I tried to demonstrate to my son-in-law and his parents that I was cool, unfazed and philosophical about it all. I tried biting my lip, making jokes, or explaining the science of being pathetic - all to camouflage a humiliating embarrassment.

I had not been to the football for a few years. I stopped going when my family accused me of being the reason Melbourne kept losing - "Dad, you're bad luck - every time you go to the footy, they lose. It's your fault."

I started to believe that they were right - every time I went, they lost. The fact that they also lost when I didn't go didn't factor into the logic.

So I stopped going - and it felt really, really good not getting upset.

So it will be a long time before I return to watch Melbourne play. I will go to watch other teams at the MCG because I love the game and I love the MCG.

But alas: for Melbourne my darlings, we have fallen out of love. Sorry.