Richmond are two down to West Ham when the scraps start coming out. One from a book. Another from under the captain’s armband. Ted tore up the BELIEVE sign earlier in the season, and all this time the players had been keeping pieces of it to themselves.
Watch Ted’s face when he realizes what they’ve done. He walked into halftime thinking he owed them one more team talk. Instead, they give him something to take back out onto the pitch. The first scrap is a lovely gesture. By the time the last one goes down, you realize how many of them made that same private choice.
What Nate wanted Ted to see
Nate could have cleared his desk and walked. Tearing the sign gives Ted something he’ll have to look at after Nate’s gone. It’s a cruel choice, and it makes sense that Nate reaches for the thing Ted put where everybody could see it. What Nate wanted, by then, was to feel seen himself.
That’s where a rewatch gets uncomfortable. You remember how good it felt when Ted first asked Nate what he thought. Then you watch that small act of attention become something Nate counts on. By the time he finally tells Ted how much it mattered, he’s also telling him how angry he is that it seemed to stop. You can have every intention of backing someone and still leave them wondering where they stand. They hear it in who gets asked for an opinion, who gets trusted with a decision, and who gets a word after a rough day.
The sign had a job until the room could do it
When Ted tears down the sign in “Signs,” Richmond have spent plenty of time losing underneath it. Imagine how thin one more big speech would have sounded. Ted takes down the one object that could have done the talking for him, and the players have to look at each other.
There’s something you can steal from that scene if you coach or lead anybody. Think of the person who made the last mistake. What happens the next time they’re in a position to try again? Does the team give them the ball? A group learns what it believes from dozens of decisions that small. Put enough of them together and the word over the door starts to sound like something the team would say about itself.
That’s what makes the halftime reveal so satisfying. The players kept the scraps through the bad run. They bring them out while they’re still losing. The timing gives the scene its nerve. Everybody loves a team photo after a comeback. This is the one Richmond take, in effect, before they know if there’ll be a comeback at all.
Leave the gold seams showing
Nate apologizes in front of the blank wall. Later, when the sign goes back up, there’s gold along the breaks. It’s a quiet callback to the repaired bowl Rebecca sees earlier in the season. Once you spot it, the new sign almost looks louder than the old one. Your eye goes straight to the places where somebody had to put it back together.
It would have taken about thirty seconds to write BELIEVE on a fresh sheet of paper. The repair takes longer, which feels right for Nate. He has to come back through the door, face Ted and find a way to be part of Richmond again. The finished sign leaves enough of that history visible for the room to remember it.
The Lady Greyhounds get to finish the sentence
Alice Chilton adding “and win” is funny because the original sign looks so sure of itself. Then you think about the women having to get on with their season without a proper dressing room, and those extra words sound overdue. They already had the conviction to keep turning up. They want the results that can earn them more attention, more resources and a bigger say in what happens next.
That’s a good test for any tradition you hand down. Can the people inheriting it change it? Richmond’s women take a word with a lot of history in the building and make room for an ambition of their own.
What are you asking people to believe?
Put the word over a locker-room door or in a classroom and the first few people through might smile. Give it a week and most will walk right past. Then somebody will miss the shot, blow the presentation or get the answer wrong in front of everyone. What the room does in the next ten seconds will give the word its meaning.
Pass them the ball again. Ask what they were trying to say. Give them another go while the first one still stings. It’s amazing what a little belief and a sign can do when someone walks into the room and finds a reason to believe it.
Disclosure: Pretty Happy Healthy, Bring The Popcorn and Inspired by Fans are projects from the same founder. Purchases from the collection support our business. This is unofficial fan-inspired merchandise, with no affiliation with or endorsement by the show or its creators.
From story to story: Curious how the BELIEVE idea travels from the locker room into other spaces? Explore the BELIEVE-inspired collection and its next chapter at Bring The Popcorn.
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