Come Hither

I don't know if anyone reads this, but I've been finding it difficult managing two blogs and two separate google accounts, so I have decided to move this blog here.

Collingwood v Carlton

I was very excited about seeing us play our rivals at the MCG (though it does appear that nearly every team is a 'rival') especially as we were going to the game with an actual Collingwood supporter. The dirty pie! Jay had taught Big Red how to kick a footy when he first moved to Melbourne as a teenager and they were at high school together. He was wearing an original Collingwood vest from the 1980s, and I don't think he was actually expecting me to be at the game, which highlights Big Red's exceptional social skills. It was all cool, though, once we had a few beers lined up.

Which brings me to my first problem: drinking beer AND watching the footy.

I have yet to master this skill, which most men pride themselves on, or at least take for granted. Every time I cheered, I spilt my beer. My mother would have been horrified as she views beer spillage as a crime. Other times, I tried to precariously wedge my beer between my knees so I could at least clap, which resulted in beer all over my legs and bag. One beer I placed by feet and then promptly kicked over. By this time I had definitely drunk too much beer.

The second problem was that our seats were behind the goal and I couldn't always see what was going, and I definitely couldn't see what was going on when all the players started fighting. The guy sitting next to me ( "Hi! Who are you barracking for?" "Carlton" "Cool!") nudged my arm and told me Fevola needed stitches. Carlton were leading by half time, but the game was close. A much better Collingwood team emerged after the break, and with Carlton looking tired, were soon leading.


The atmosphere was amazing as the Collingwood supporters cheered their team to victory.


Devastating.

St Kilda v Carlton

The Game

Before the game on Friday night we went to a bar called murmur which is hidden down a dodgy-looking alleyway and gives you a vague sense of accomplishment having managed to find it. The bar is beautiful inside, and packed full of people with the smug look of having discovered somewhere good. We had a couple of excellent but very expensive mojitos. We also asked for some nuts and after serving us our drinks, the barman said "I'll just grab your nuts", which had Big Red and I giggling like a pair of 14 years old girls. It would have been good to stay for longer but we had to get to The Dome.

I've decided that I don't really like The Telstra Dome. It's always so hot in there. Perhaps it's because I'm English and therefore associate attending live sports events with freezing my arse off in the cold and rain (painful memories, I try not to dwell on them). So I rock up to the Dome in my coat and scarf, neither of which I can wear because the roof is closed and the temperature is 21 degrees inside. Anyhoo, we had bought 'gold seats' this time, which did give us a great view from the second tier and the seats were padded. Woo!

Carlton started badly, which is what we always seem to do. A dangerous game plan. We looked slow at times and we were soon trailing by 20 points. Then thirty. We had no idea what to do about Fraser Gehrig (a very scary-looking man). Carlton did have a good third quarter, managing to close the gap to three points, but then let the Saints score a couple of quick, easy goals in succession. By the beginning of the fourth quarter it was obvious we were not going to win. Missing key players and lacking experience, we struggled, managing only sporadic moments of magic such as a fantastic Eddie Betts goal.

We left early to get our train.

Disappointing.

Desperately trying to find a bright side:

We have a great forward line and Lance Whitnall had a good game.

I liked the white shirts.

Meh...

We lost

More later. Need to sleep.

The Footy Show

Not long after I moved to Australia, I was flicking through the TV channels one Thursday evening and came across The Footy Show. 'What was all this nobjockery?' I wondered. I've always hated these types of sport-shows - all male, guffawing in a self-congratulatory manner at their own jokes, jockeying for the alpha male position, typical pack animals and often fearful of women. After watching the show for all of five minutes, I turned over, convinced it wasn't for me.

I didn't watch it again until a few weeks ago when, Big Red, home early from his Thursday night soccer game, suggested we watch it. I may have whinged a bit before finally agreeing. (Thursday night is my night, after all, and it meant missing The Amazing Race!). Sitting there, stony-faced and biting my lip, I was determined not to laugh. This was not my kind of show.

Or was it?

Because I found myself really enjoying it. Okay, the humour is often infantile, bordering on offensive, but it's also sort of...um...refreshing. Television can be oh-so tedious when everyone is politically correct.

I've been watching the show for the last few weeks, and without a doubt, it's 'star' is Sam Newman, who I had never heard of before. It is also obvious he is one of those personalities you either love or loathe (mostly he seems to be loathed). But at least he has a feckin' personality. My only problem with Newman, is that sometimes he's not funny. I will laugh at nearly anything - no matter how vulgar - if it's genuinely funny. His attitude to women is not particularly funny.



Last night's episode was quite amusing, particularly when that old dude squared up to Sam. But my favourite part was when Sam Newman kicked Gary Lyon. It reminded me of the fight scene between Colin Firth and Hugh Grant in Bridget Jones's Diary.


What a pair of girls.

Death and Blind Faith

My day has started well: I killed the most enormous cockroach. Not convinced it was actually dead, I kept spraying it with Baygon until the can was empty. Then I stood and stared at it for at least five minutes, dreading a miraculous recovery, until I finally convinced myself it really was dead.

I find it always helps to start the day with a little moyder.

Anyway, I'm going to buy tickets today for the Carlton - St Kilda game tomorrow night. I'm feeling optimistic despite having lost our last seven games against the Saints.


We are going to win.

A Fun New Game

Which is which...

Britney Spears

Ben Cousins

Answers on a beermat.

I Don't Like Cricket

We are meant to be staying up to watch the final of the Cricket World Cup between Australia and Sri Lanka, but having imbibed too much alcohol earlier this evening, a certain someone has already fallen asleep on the sofa and is snoring away quite peacefully.

It's raining in Barbados* so play has been delayed for the last hour and a half and I have been sitting here trying to decide whether

a) I really want to watch this game
b) If I should go to bed
c) Should I wake-up Big Red and make him go to bed with me?
d) If I should sit here, drink tea, smoke another joint and wait for the start of play?

Decisions....aagh.....


I'm beginning to question how much I like cricket. Even if play starts in the next hour, watching the entire final would mean staying up until 7.00am.



I'm not even Australian.











*Apparently they have rain in Barbados.

Carlton v Brisbane Lions

We went to see a friend's band play at The Tote knowing The Carlton - Brisbane Lions game started just as the band finished playing. We stayed there and got pissed; half-watching the game on a very small TV in the corner. It looked like it might be quite exciting, as far as I could tell from the other side of the room. We beat Brisbane in the final of The NAB Cup so they probably had a point to prove. Carlton were still leading when we left.

We jumped in a taxi to a pub in Northcote and watched the end of the game. People kept standing in front of the TV. We watched part of the game through a strategically placed mirror. Carlton really fecked up at the end and we lost. I didn't think we deserved to lose.


We consoled ourselves with wine and steak.

West Coast v Carlton

The game was in Perth and not showing on free-to-air TV so we went to a local pub to watch it on Foxtel.

I'm still not sure how two people could get to a pub so early (an hour and a half before the game started at 3pm) and manage to miss the 2 hour time slot for lunch. I think it involved drinking copious amounts of beer.

The game was a blur.

I booed a lot.


We lost.

Carlton v Essendon

The best game of football I have ever seen.

My first time at the MCG watching an AFL game.. This was The Rivalry Round (where apparent rivals play one another). There were 65, 000 people at the game. It was hot but I still wore my scarf.

Carlton didn't start the game well - Lance Whitnall was in poor form, all the refereeing decisions seemed to go against us and Fev hardly got near the ball. Essendon looked very strong and took an early lead. By half time we were 48 points down and facing an embarrassing defeat. Carlton then proceeded to stage the most amazing comeback in the club's history, eventually winning by three points. All our players raised their game, but Fevola's eight goals secured the win.

The atmosphere was incredible.


A truly great game.

Geelong v Carlton

We went to The Telstra Dome to watch the game, stopping to get burgers on the way. Geelong played really, really well. We seemed to be surrounded by Geelong fans, including a family in front of us (mum, dad, four young children and a baby, all wearing Geelong shirts) who were very charitable about us booing them, but slightly terrified by the boyfriend bellowing "BALL". This mild mannered man, who I have been with for five years, suddenly morphed into A Shout Bag. People stared at us! Aaaggh...

We lost, they were simply too good for Carlton. And we were quite bad. Actually, it was sort of embarrassing after a while and we may have slunk out before the match ended.

We bought pot, went home and ate Easter Eggs.

Carlton v Richmond

The first game of the season and we are in Canberra on a camping trip.

"Look! There's a pub!" I shouted; eagle-eyed as ever. "It might be showing the Carlton - Richmond game".

And it was. But Big Red's parents don't sit in pubs and drink beer. They made an exception for 45 minutes, sitting and drinking nothing while we watched the game and drank beer. Carlton were leading when we left for dinner and it wasn't until the next day that we learned they had won.

Hurrah!

Cock

We are watching the swimming on TV and smoking a joint.

"Would you wear your cock like that?" he asks and I cough out smoke in surprise.

"What?"

He repeats the question, pointing out a male swimmer on the screen wearing one of those fantastically tight swim suits and whose cock is mostly definitely pointing skywards.

"Can I wear a cock?" I ask, immediately getting to the heart of the issue.

"You know what I mean".

Actually, I don't know very much about cocks. Especially not what it feels like to have a cock. Would I need to fiddle with it all the time? Is all that rearranging completely necessary? See, I know nothing.

My own genitalia is conveniently and tidily tucked away, never threatening to break lose or do embarrassing things.

"I don't know" I murmur, continuing to think about the swimmer's cock.

The NAB Cup Final

Carlton made the final of the NAB Cup and last night we went to The Telstra Dome and watched them slaughter* The Brisbane Lions. It was my first Australian Rules game and my first Carlton game. It was so exciting. I screamed and shouted and cheered and clapped like a loon. I bought a Carlton scarf (this is like entering into a contract - once you buy a scarf there is no changing your mind about what team to support). I fell in love with Brendan Fevola. I sang the two lines from the club song that I know ("we are the navy blues, we are the old dark navy blues"). I asked stupid questions like "why has that player only got one glove?". I opened my bag of lollies a tad too forcefully and they all exploded into the air and everyone was very nice about picking them up and giving them back to me.

I took crappy photos:



That's "Fev" if you couldn't already tell.


I don't think it was a great game, but being there gave me a better understanding of this crazy-ass sport which only Australians play. It's too difficult to get an idea of the size of the field and how hard the players work when watching a game on TV at home.


It was a fun evening.




CARN THE BLUES!








*the biased perception of a true footy fan.

The Birth of Betty the Blue

I grew up in a country where Australian Rules Football means nothing, and had never seen a game before I moved to Australia and watched the 2005 Grand Final. It seemed quite an exciting game, but I had no idea about the rules. Were there any rules? It was certainly a very physical game. I liked how pushing and shoving seemed to be encouraged. It was a game played by Proper Men, not pussies. Also, the shorts were longer than I thought they would be. And I wasn't sure what a 'mark' was but I understood they were very important.

Last year, we were in Sydney visiting family and watched The Grand Final with them. I still didn't really know what was going on but I started to ask questions. Stupid questions like "Is there four quarters?", which definitely amused a certain person. I started thinking about supporting a team. But what team?

I spent another six months thinking about this.


Well, not just about this. But it's not that easy when you only have a very sketchy idea of the rules, the clubs and...er...everything about the game. I considered supporting The Sydney Swans as they were in both the finals I watched, but supporting a Sydney team seemed wrong. Then I was going to support Collingwood because I liked their nickname - The Pies - before discovering this was actually an abbreviation of 'magpies'. Then I toyed with supporting a team...I forget who...because their colours were black and red.

What was a girl to do?

Then I decided to support Carlton, because a certain person supported them and it meant we could go to games together and that would mean we were Doing Stuff and not just sitting at home, smoking dope. So I went to my first game and saw Carlton win the final of The Nab Cup. Lordy! Aussie Rules was a crazy feckin' game. It was so unlike any sport I had seen before.

I was hooked.