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Football Down Under: Melbourne vs Brisbane

In his idle moments, Hamish Alcorn has a blog – Football Down Under and Beyond – where the piece below first appeared. Thanks, Hamish, for letting us republish. As always, we look forward to more of your writing…

Melbourne vs Brisbane

Well it was the bottom of the table clash we've been waiting for all season. I walked from the shop, past the Irish Pub on the corner which only had AFL on, and past the two pubs in the mall which also only had AFL on, to the Pig & Whistle on the mall which had AFL on two screens and the A-League on the smallest third screen.

Alone in a corner I sipped my beer and for 20 minutes wondered why the hell I was a Roar fan. If it hadn't have become "Brisbane Roar", defecting to Gold Coast United would have been a no-brainer. I love Brisbane, but when it comes to sport I don't really give a shit about “Queensland”. A sporting team should, in my view, represent an actual ants nest, a real community of humans, with a stadium in the middle. And while I was sitting there, watching my team play truly woefully, albeit attempting to play this “attacking football” everyone seems to harp about, I thought, “Well, this is my lot. Thick or thin, this is my team. I guess they'll have glory some time in my life, and other times they'll probably be at the bottom, but they play for my town, which I live in, work in and love.”

Then Danny scored a cracker. Seconds later I apologised to the table next to me for my spontaneous reaction. They were good humoured about it – actually the smile from the girl was worth it. I was so excited I wandered outside the drinking area for a cigarette when Henrique was brought down and Dijk popped the penalty. 2:0 up, but I'm not really convinced by Dijk's celebrations. Two goals in two games on paper, but both because he gets to take the penalties, which he didn't earn, and he still keeps missing his chances from play. And God he's ugly. Anyway he plays for my team.

I stll thought Melbourne were playing better and not once thought they weren't still in the game. Just after Hernandez scored (The Roar's defence up to that point so had that coming) a cop came over. He was a senior constable but I can't remember his name. I noticed he didn't look at the AFL screen. "Are you a Roar supporter?" "Aye." He asked me who'd scored the goals and I told him. He's from Wales and is a Leeds supporter. "It's the only team," he said. Now if that was true it would be a pretty small and uninteresting league, but I learned long ago to never argue with a policeman. Anyway, he wandered past a few times after that and got updates from me. Nice guy.

I've found before that when you go out alone to watch a football game you kind of spontaneously meet people who are also interested. It's a contrast to going out alone to listen to music or trying to get laid, when I inevitably just get lonelier as the night goes on. The other bloke I got chatting to, who came in later, was wearing Celtic gear, a Scot. We reminisced joyfully about the Roar vs Celtic game, and he told me a wonderful story about a home Celtic game vs Liverpool where both groups (is 50,000 still a “group”?) sang “You'll never walk alone”. I'm bloody jealous. Frankly I reckon the Roar should consider itself tagged with the Celtic germ and take the song up as our own. There is no greater soccer anthem in the world.

While I was chatting to the cop again Henrique scored his. Now that was quality – neither a somewhat lucky but brilliant bash like Danny's nor a routine penalty like Dijk's. A REAL goal. A goal to celebrate. Celebrating it with a yellow card (taking the shirt off) was a bit stupid, but he does have a nice bod – much prettier than Djik.

The mystery, which has almost become mundane, is that in the second half Brisbane actually looked better, but it was Melbourne scoring the goals. If someone has the time please drop me a line and explain to me what it's all about. You know... soccer, life, whatever. Life is rich with metaphors for explaining soccer.

3:3. Jesus the A-League on this Saturday yielded 11 goals from two games. I don't even want to talk about the Gold Coast. Frank Farina has put it on public record that he will bare his arse in public if the Gold Coast go through undefeated as Clive Palmer predicted. This is one of the most interesting things Frank has ever said and I almost hope it comes off so Frank is obliged to be so daring. Sorry I keep digressing. 3:3. A deserved draw, in a game of two halves where the teams took turns scoring against the run of play.

PS. I like the yellow nets

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dog day afternoon

Hamish, will do that from time to time, as well.

Living in Adelaide, that will either mean a stroll up the road to Hindmarsh Stadium with some of my old Elizabeth mates for an Adelaide United match, (don't they just love Danny!), or a leisurely trip to Elizabeth Oval for Central District, once bridesmaids, now current Premiers in the SANFL Aussie Rules league.

These outlets are affordable. With Adelaide United you get a bigger and more intense crowd, with the Bulldogs and Aussie Rules, old-fashioned, community-based Aussie footy with about three thousand spectators, following both sides and much banter ranging from the almost "witty" to irascible profane, depending on the state of the match.

Am a bit like you Hamish re "going out".

I'll do an occasional visit out to Richard's Gov Hindmarsh, for the often free and sometimes unexpectedly good bands, but even that can be alienating at times. In my case it's exacerbated by the fact that I'm no longer a drinker, so you can feel "out", if the ambience is "off" on a particular outing.

Just as easy to sit home and watch the Crows or the Power, take a walk with the dog or have a coffee with friends, sometimes.

British Premier League is starting up, but I won't buy Murdoch, despite the urgings of my (once?) lefty mates, so I miss out both for British and some local football.

But I know enough to feel in awe at the current disaster befalling the once-prosperous Norwich, who once again proves the Peter Principle - everyone rises or falls to their own level of incompetence.

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