My decision to barrack for Collingwood can be blamed on a brief episode of sibling rivalry. But there was a moment a few years later that went beyond barracking: it was when I fell in love with not only the players, and the jumper, but also the club. It was the day I received The Letter.

I had followed Collingwood ever since my older brother took me to an Essendon-Collingwood game, accompanied by the girl next door. She barracked for Collingwood, he for Essendon. I, being an annoying little brother, decided to support whichever team my brother didn’t. So the Pies it was.

Fast forward a few years, to March of 1972, and I was deeply hooked into the black-and-whites, with Peter McKenna’s No.6 sewn onto the back of my jumper and scrapbooks bursting at the seams with clippings and stray bits of ephemera.

It had been a tumultuous off-season for the Pies. Coach Bob Rose had quit at the end of 1971, while captain Terry Waters had resigned his position after being dropped late in the season and the inspirational Des Tuddenham had crossed to Essendon.

So by March of 1972, Collingwood had a new coach, a new captain and were without their spiritual leader for the first time in a decade.

Yet despite all the turmoil, I decided this would be a good time to write to the club and ask if I might be able to play for them one day.

I had just finished my first full season of competitive football, with Jordanville Youth Club Football Club’s under-11s. I loved it. But as much as I loved football, I didn’t only want to play the game: I wanted to play it for Collingwood. Wearing the same black and white jumper I wore around the streets.

I already knew enough of the VFL world to understand that the zoning rules then in place meant I would be residentially tied to Richmond (we lived in Chadstone). I couldn’t see a way around this hurdle, but I figured if anyone could, it would be the Collingwood Football Club. So I wrote to them to ask if I was missing something. Was there any way they could see it happening one day? Was there any hope?

I still can’t believe that I bothered the club with such a silly query – especially at a time like that. Did I really expect them to respond? The glorious naivete of youth, I guess.

But here’s the thing: Collingwood did write back. The very next day.

And not with any old form letter either. This was a handwritten, considered, sympathetic full-page response, patiently explaining to an 11-year-old kid why he was unlikely to be able to play with Collingwood in 10 years time.

Even while confirming the bad news, the writer didn’t want to disappoint a young fan too much. He raised the prospect that the zoning boundaries might change one day, and maybe that could open up my pathway to Victoria Park.

I was so taken by the fact that the club had responded at all that it took me a while to notice who the letter had come from. It was written by the Collingwood secretary at the time, some bloke called Jack Regan.

Yes, that Jack Regan.

The greatest full-back in Magpie history. The man who should have been given that role in the AFL’s Team Of The Century (Stephen Silvagni? Pffffttt). A true legend of the game. And here he was, taking the time to write to a kid during what must have been some crazy days at the club. What a man. It made me love Collingwood even more.

I didn’t really understand the significance of the signature at the bottom of the letter back then. All I cared about was that he sounded like such a nice man, and that he hadn’t entirely ruled out the possibility that I could one day find my way to the Pies.

But I never did end up playing for Collingwood. I soon discovered that a lack of ability was a far greater hindrance than living in the wrong zone. And though I managed to live part of the dream and play at Victoria Park one day, it didn’t quite go to plan: I missed my one shot at goal (at the Yarra Falls end) and was carted off to hospital with a dislocated elbow early in the second quarter. Fairytales, huh?

But I still have The Letter. The letter handwritten to me by the greatest full-back in the game’s history. The letter that said: Collingwood cares. These days it almost feels like a love letter – and the romance continues to this day.

How did you fall in love with the Pies? What made you start barracking for Collingwood? Share your story with us by uploading it here or sharing on social with #MyPiesStory