So football season has started again in Melbourne. There are a few codes of football played in Australia but in Melbourne, for all intents and purposes, there is only one – Australian Rules Football. This is theoretically a national competition, the Australian Football League (AFL) but it Melbourne it’s a religion.
I’m not the athletic type myself but Aussie Rules can be very entertaining to watch. It isn’t the sport itself that makes me angry or even the tribal aggro mentality the fans get. Well, okay, that pisses me off. But it wasn’t the point I was going to make – that’s only low-level aggravation, not serious angry territory.
I have had the misfortune in the past to work in places where the people were completely obsessed with footy. It doesn’t seem to be the case in my current workplace, so thank Jeebus for small mercies. If people want to go mad for the footy that’s their business. Wear the colours, carry a mascot, fly the flag, like I give a shit.
But you wanna get on the list? The list of those who will one day suffer my great anger and fuuuurious vengeance? It’s easy: when talking about football, don’t talk about the team you support, talk about yourself. “We had a good game… We are going to sign player X… When we play you, we are gonna kick your arse!”
Get this straight: YOU have nothing to do with the fucking game! There is a team out there on the field who play the game – YOU sit on your arse and watch. Or maybe jump around and scream like a fuckwit. But it isn’t about you okay. Don’t make yourself seem any more sad and desperate than necessary. Claiming some ownership or participation in the game does not make your pathetic fucking life seem any less empty, okay? It makes it worse because you’re deluding yourself instead of facing reality.
I swear, football would be a lot more tolerable if it weren’t for the fucking fans.