Caution, long post:
Put simply, if I wanted to go to the footy, I had to follow Norwood, the team of my family. My little brother tried to be different one year and follow West Torrens, but he only got to go to two games that season! Valuable lesson learnt
My earliest memories of Footy were of my Dad and my late Uncle Johnny talking about Norwood ad-nauseum, about hating those bastards from Port Adelaide, about how good Gags/Thomas/Aishy/Macca/Rocky Roberts were, about thinking that Michaelanney was the blokes name, and wondering why they always said his first name on the radio when commentating, as there were no other “Anney’s” in the side! About having the number 8 on my duffle coat, with a knitted red and blue scarfe from my Oma with the little player badges all over it, about standing on the terraces learning how real men spoke
especially to the bloody umpire and those bastards from Port, who would always just happen to be there when ever your team stumbled, just to enjoy rubbing it in. About Dad driving to the Norwood hotel to meet Uncle John, dropping us at the ground to watch the magoo’s whilst he went to the pub. Sometimes we’d go to the pub with him, sitting up on the bar as all the blokes talked about the upcoming game…just soaking in the footy knowledge. My uncle teaching me to say “wanna crack a tinny?” with me repeating my new catch phrase to the displeasure of my mum, but the laughter of the blokes at the pub. Walking down from the pub to the ground, enter under the grandstand, always turning right and finding ‘that’ perfect position to stand and watch the game, never sitting in the grandstand with the fancy dans! Pulling out the garbage bags after half time to collect the cans for pocket money, leaving them with Dad so we could run onto the ground at ¾ time to hear Balmey (or whoever the coach was) giving the boys one more gee up before the last quarter. Filling out the budget with ruthless efficiency, a ‘I’ for a goal and a dot for a point, always asking the bloke with the tranny at his ear who scored at the other end if we couldn’t see….waiting with baited breath for the other scores to come up, and deciphering the budget to determine who was A B C D or E, doing quick mental calculations to figure out if the results were good or bad for the ‘legs. Learning the “Umpire, how big’s your d***?” ‘joke’ as a kid and thinking it was the funniest thing ever! Being cut to the bone when dad said I was too young to go to the 1984 Granny with him and uncle Johnny, and watching the game on TV willing the legs on to make history! Dad coming home absolutely smashed and completely in a wonderland after the game, promising me he’d take me to the next one we made. I remember Going to the last game at the Parade against Port before the Power entered the AFL, and cramming in with 18,000+ others. About singing the song, loud and proud, with my heart beating true for the team I love!
I left SA in 1998 to join the Navy, and in Melbourne it was easier to follow the Crows and go to Bells pub to hang out with the other expat SA-lians. I always had the heart strings attached to the Redlegs, but I was blinded by the shiny new Crows and the extra SA state-patriotism that comes from living in Victoria.
Lately (last 2-3 years), I have become very disillusioned with the AFL. Being half Dutch, I am a massive soccer fan, so I tend to watch the soccer over the summer. I would come back to footy after the soccer season, but every year the game had changed more and more. I would spend the first 3-4 games not just learning the new player’s names, but which particular rule had changed and almost learning the new game over again. I have grown to hate the false idol that is the AFL.
This year (2008), I snapped. I will not renew my Crows membership in 2009. I bought my first Norwood membership in 10 years, and will again next year. The false football that is the AFL just doesn’t get my blood pumping like the SANFL did and still does. OK, it’s not the highest athletic standard, but it is real football, as I remember it from childhood. The game that Peter Carey played, the game that Macca played (both of whom would never get a game in the AFL these days…not athletic enough
) I am pleased that the SANFL retains its traditions, I hope we hold out against the whitewash that Andy “Vlad the impaler” Demetriou intends to impose upon the footy world (AFLSA…**** off!) When I am installed supreme dictator of Australia, I will mandate that all point posts be coloured red, and all goal umpires will have moustaches (the women can wear fake ones!) and wear butchers’ coats!
I currently live in Sydney, but I have plenty of travel back to Adelaide for work….coincidentally I think my work travel will coincide with a few NFC home games
I made it to 4 Norwood games last season (including the home game against Sturt in terrible conditions in August, what a game!) and the 08GF, I hope to make more next season. Eventually I plan to move back to Adelaide (probably in 2010 when my current contract finishes), and fulfil my childhood dream of living within walking distance of the Parade. When I have kids, it is to the Parade (and Alberton, the Bay, Prospect, Unley, Lizzbeff etc) I will be taking them, not to Footy Park to see the Crows.
Sorry for the rant, but that has been building inside me for ages, and it feels great to get it off my chest!
Fortis in Procella, forza SANFL footy and Carn you Legs!
