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.