R is for Rugby League
“‘Are you !@#$%^& kidding me? Come on!’
Wittaya was on his
feet gesticulating wildly at the television. The object of his wrath was the
referee who had just awarded a try to the Bulldogs over their arch rivals the
Melbourne Storm. Although Wittaya was a Sydney boy, Melbourne represented how
he felt about his place in the world. They were a team which had dominated the
game for over a decade. A team which all other teams aspired to emulate. A team
of outsiders representing a state which was so passionately in love with
Australian Rules Football that they had little affection left for a team full of
New Zealand and Queensland imports. The Melbourne Storm were hated because they
were so good. It was jealousy. Plain and simple, and exactly the same puerile
emotion felt by his enemies towards him: a young, ambitious senator on the rise
through the ranks.
‘What is the point of
having a video referee if they are not going to use it? That looked dodgy at
normal speed and the ref was not in a good position to see it properly. What do
you reckon, Kelly?‘” from chapter 9,
Ashmore Grief
This is a bit of stretch in terms of being connected to my
novel, Ashmore Grief, which is my theme for the A-Z Blogging Challenge, and it’s
a repost from last year’s challenge but rugby league is such a great game, I
just wanted to share this again.
Last night I went to a rugby league match. Those of you
unfamiliar with this fast and brutal sport should think in terms of American
Football without all the padding and helmets, less players and few breaks in
play. Rugby league is 80 minutes of skillful gladiatorial combat. So here I am
in a hotel room, the morning after the game, in Canberra which is not only our
national capital but is also celebrating its 100th birthday. As part
of the celebrations, it hosted last night’s match at Canberra Stadium. Just
over 25, 000 people, of which I was one, watched the first rugby league test
match between Australia and New Zealand to be played in Canberra. It was an
historic night. It was also an historic night for two of my guests. My niece
and nephew are visiting from Thailand, and I felt obliged to share this
wonderful facet of Australian culture with them. They were exposed to some of
what is good and bad about living in Australia.
The free bus, which was to take us to the ground from where
we parked our car and had an awesome Italian meal, was late. When we got to the
ground, there was a massive queue of ticket holders like us, who were being
slowly corralled through just four ticket gates. The teams came on to the field
while we were outside. The national anthems were sung, the haka performed and
the game commenced all before we made it in. We were then directed by stadium
staff to the wrong end of the ground, and by the time we walked to the other
end, found our seats, ejected the people who were sitting in our seats and
finally sat to watch the game, twenty minutes had elapsed. It was very cold but
we cheered with vigour as our boys finished strongly in what had been a tight
contest. With a victory under our belts we left the ground in high spirits, and
went to join the crowd of people waiting for buses. It was long wait. I thought
my niece and nephew, unaccustomed to cold weather, might die from exposure. The
crowd jeered the stadium staff as they apologized for the lack of buses as we
stood and made the best of our plight.
Last night was one of those nights which will be talked
about for as long as we live. A great victory by a great team with great
support from patient and generally good humoured fans. I love my footy. What
sports are you crazy about? What lengths have you gone to see a match?
Photo sources
zimbio.com
smh.com.au
There was a game earlier in the year against the defending premiers which was likewise in the balance. Ours for the taking, if we were good enough. We weren't. We aren't. Woe are Bulldogs fans. Woe. Woe. Woe.
