When I was a little girl - when we first got cable television - my mother once roused me from a deep sleep in the middle of the night to witness the strangest sport she had ever seen on some obscure channel. Mesmerized by the violent athletic fortitude of the participants, owing in large part to the size and definition of their thighs, we struggled to comprehend the play. It was like football – the objective seemed to be to get an egg shaped ball through some goal posts. It was like soccer – occasionally there was kicking. But it was also like basketball – every once in awhile the players would dribble the ball as they ran across a humongous grass oval. It was like nothing we had ever seen.
It was Australian Rules Football.
As part of my cultural immersion, I accepted Richard and Kate’s invitation to attend an AFL game between the Sydney Swans and the Geelong Cats (though still wary of their backyard – and their home brew - I declined their offer of pre-drinks at their house). Unfortunately, no one in our party had a particularly keen grasp of the game itself, thus was of little help in enlightening me to the subtleties of play.
“It’s rather like a game of hot-potato,” explained Richard.
“Who are the guys in the green shirts?”
“I have no idea. Yay! Go Swans!”
Without the distraction of actually having to follow the game, I was free to absorb random details instead:
ANZ Stadium serves the BEST (if not only) hot dogs in all of Australia.
In general, Australian parents (and grand-parents) are quite appreciative of having total strangers correct their children’s (and grand-children’s) bad behaviour.
In as many days, I have been to two toilet stalls in which previous occupants have flicked remarkable boogers onto the stalls. I felt compelled to participate, but my own efforts were paltry by comparison and not at all worthy of flicking. This certainly represents a sport which would boost Australia’s gold medal tally, although Mexico would provide some fierce competition.
It never occurred to me that I might need a Sony Playstation…that is, until I saw a subdued black-and-white banner held between two men at center field during half-time. It read “Sony Playstation”.
Roaming beer vendors are a good thing. How has Australia overlooked this source of revenue? There is something to be said for having a below-poverty-level working class.
Toward the end of the game, the most confusing message flashed repeatedly across the JumboTron. It read:
Kick to Kick
NO
Kick to Kick
Do Not Enter Arena
Aren’t we already in the Arena? (Further explanations (or postulations) as to the actual meaning of that bulletin are most welcome in the comments section which follows.
Australian Police Officers – although extremely polite and infinitely approachable – are seldom in possession of useful information, such as the location of the nearest toilet facility.
Trains are a wonderful form of transportation, especially while intoxicated, and especially when you happen to catch the one train that goes directly from Olympic Park to St Leonards.
And now, for your viewing pleasure (and no doubt violating multiple copyright laws), I present the following montage:
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6 comments:
Hi Audra, I have been reading your blog for a little while now and love it, you have a unique blogging voice. I found your blog as I am also an expat - an Aussie in Scotland - and was interested how other expats found my home country.
Anyway, as a former Adelaide and Melbournian I am well aquainted with Aussie Rules and would be happy to answer any questions I can.
There seems to be 3 minutes of blackness there...
is that a consequence of the drunkness?
No, that is a consequence of my first experiment in adding a musical soundtrack to a film. I shall rectify that this evening.
I've been here 25 years and I still haven't been to an AFL match. Well done. I'm impressed.
"Kick to kick" is what two or more kids do when they have an Aussie Rules football and a lot of time on their hands - they go out on the street, down to the park etc, and endlessly practise kicking the ball to each other. The best place to do this if you're a kid, of course, is the stadium where a real football game has just been played - if you can manage it, you go out on the field with your friends and a "footy" and spend a half-hour or so emulating the real football moves and plays you've just seen.
The modern football era being what it is, though, stadium management nowadays don't like to let anyone but actual players onto the field, if they can help it. So "no kick to kick / do not enter Arena" is basically a petty, joy-killing message directed at kids: "don't even think about hopping over the fence and spending a few minutes pretending to be your favorite football player, because this playing surface is expensive to manage, and not meant for the likes of you to run around on".
god this made me laugh!! as an aussie i still find footy a total mystery, which is very UnOsstrayan, but it's a fact all the same.
what freaks me out is how the fans (esp the kiddies) rush on to the field as soon as the bell/siren/thingie goes at the end of the game. then they jump all over the players pushing pens and bits of paper at them for autographs. well. they do in qld at any rate.
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