Loveday Writing

KICKING OUR OWN GOAL: WATCHING THE FOOTY

Growing up I have been surrounded by the footy—AFL. Every Sunday afternoon during my childhood, the noise of umpires’ whistles and the crowd’s cheers would echo in the lounge room of my grandparent’s home whilst my cousins, aunts, uncles and I would have afternoon tea in their dining room.

The games would always be on the television in my own home. My father has always been an avid Tigers supporter, my mother a one-eyed Magpies lover, my brother a loyal Swans fan and myself a roaring Lions supporter.

Yes, I realise that one family of four people following different teams is unusual, but it does make things interesting when all four of them play each other in a round. It’s also not unusual to hear my mother, let’s call it “cheering with enthusiasm” at the television when her beloved Magpies are playing. Watching the footy on television has always been, and still is a family ritual, but travelling to Melbourne to see it for ourselves became a family ritual seven years ago.

I can’t remember exactly who was playing when I went to my first footy game seven years ago, however I do suspect it was Richmond vs Collingwood as I vaguely remember my brother and I feeling slightly silly for wearing our Swans and Lions attire respectively at this particular game. But we were encouraged by our parents to join in the atmosphere, not care and enjoy ourselves, which we did. As time went on as well as the more trips we went on, we added to our ritual—travelling from Wagga Wagga to Melbourne early, as the trip takes five to six hours, book into our motel, sight see, watch the games/games we travelled to see and also have a shop at the Queen Victoria Markets and return home. As of this year, we have all seen our teams play, however my brother has seen the Swans play with my father in Sydney rather than in Melbourne.

My parents and my brother are off on this year’s “footy trip” this coming weekend to of course see Richmond vs Collingwood again. My mother, who has been knitting a Collingwood rug for at least the last five years, most likely more, has informed me jokingly that if Richmond wins again (in the years we have seen Richmond and Collingwood play, Collingwood has only won once), she will take the train home so she doesn’t have to hear my father’s gloating, which has also become a vital part of the “footy trip.” As I currently live in Wollongong, I am unable to go on this trip because it would take too much time to pick me up and travel even further in the other direction. I maintain it’s because I’m “too cool” for this trip, but of course I’m jealous.