I love footy. (Australian Rules, just in case anyone thinks I’m British or worse, friends with Russel Crowe.) This weekend was a mixed bag, my team (Geelong) lost but I’m OK with that. I set the bar pretty low for 2015, AND I have seen three premierships in my lifetime after making it to 32 years of age thinking we just played in every second Grand Final as some sort of bizarre torture for a salary cap breach back in the 70s. So I didn’t grow up expecting success, I thought football was about trying really hard but ultimately ended each season with grown men crying at the Sebel Townhouse on a live link to Hey Hey it’s Saturday.
I learned then that you have to make your own fun with the other games in the round and now more so than ever when the round can go from Thursday to Sunday and Geelong only play for 3 hours of that. So today after shaking off the Geelong loss to Freo with a spot of ironing and a few mumbled ‘gee Fyfe can play can’t he?’ and ‘oh look there’s always next week’ I switched to Essendon / Hawthorn and boy did my luck change. To have a favourite team, you must also have a least favourite. Like there’s no Superman without any villains to fight is there? Enter Hawthorn. I dislike the team for all the obvious reasons. 1989 – 2008 especially.
I’m not an insane face painter so I know in my brain that all the Hawthorn players are probably perfectly fine humans and I’m certainly not one to take to Twitter to abuse any of them. I often think that says more about the poster than the postee. Would I rather be sitting on my Fantastic Furniture, eating nachos out of my hat and calling Josh Gibson an ‘a$$hole’? Or would I rather be running around on the MCG even if it was in a poos and wees coloured jumper?
So of course I was barracking like a crazy Essendon supporter who recently ran out of drugs. I was actually jumping up and down in my lounge room and called out ‘C’mon Dons’, a thing that I didn’t think my brain knew, or that it could tell my mouth to say. I, like the commentators, assumed Hawthorn would reel in Essendon and then overtake them like a hoon on the Monash and they did! Except there was still two minutes left and no one had told Cale Hooker how the story was supposed to end. He kicked a huge goal that I doubt he could replicate EVER and suddenly Essendon were ahead and then the siren went. Essendon bloody well beat Hawthorn!
It’s childish I know but after suffering a pretty humiliating loss to the Hawks last week and oh yeah last year, it was nice to see them fall to their knees and look on disbelieving – why are that other team cheering when we’re the ones who always get to do that? Funny how just for a little while on a Sunday afternoon, that old proverb is true ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’. Until next week when of course I will have a new enemy. Go Cats!
Image courtesy of http://www.afl.com.au/news/2015-04-12/bombers-hold-on