Carla Gypsygirl's Blurty

For richer, for poorer, in shopping and at the football...

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The last time I saw something like this, it was at the Boxing Day sales.
I have become invincible and eternally lovable in the eyes of my fiancé. Why? Because, dear friends, I finally attended a football game with him. I have been to the footy with Geoff once before, but I only went along so that my little brother would have a friend there. Last Monday was the first time that I went with no excuses.

Pre-Geoff, I had vowed that I would never marry a boy who liked sport. I have since discovered, however, that boys who don’t like sport are rare indeed. I’ve only had one other boyfriend apart from Geoff, and I have avoided writing about him all of these years because he broke my heart SO badly. Anyway, heartache aside, my ex was pretty apathetic towards sport, which I found to be impressive. However, this ex turned out to be crazy- and I mean, like, actually crazy. And not Girl Interrupted crazy- self-induced, cocaine-and-LSD-addled crazy.

So anyway, I guess that having a boyfriend/fiancé who likes sport ain’t that bad. I mean, I’d rather be with a guy who expresses his frustration by yelling at a footy team, instead of being with a guy who pops lots of pills and spazzes out on the dance floor.

So, for other girls who are as clueless about footy as I am, here is my guide to attending a football game. And guys, you can read along and laugh…

The girl’s guide to footy- what to expect, and what to do. By Carla Gypsygirl.

Feel the hate
Silly me, I thought that going to see a football game was all about cheering your team on and having laughs. I imagined bracing winds, hot chips and team songs. But no- going to see a football game is all about HATE. Forget about feel-good movies and shopper’s adrenaline- men like doing things that get the hate stirring within them. I first experienced the hate when Geoff and I were catching the bus to Aussie Stadium. The East Sydney Roosters (Geoff’s team) and the South Sydney Rabbitohs were playing, and unfortunately, Geoff and I were the only Roosters supporters on the bus. We were standing up and squashed next to some young Rabbitohs fans. They joked about how our team sucked, then they talked in hushed voices about how all Roosters fans were actually violent psychos. During the game, the Roosters played abysmally. Geoff’s brother, Dave, expressed his rage by shouting in the general direction of Russell Crowe, the benefactor of the Souths: “F--- you, Rusty!” And after some elderly Souths fans continued to jeer at our Roosters, Dave turned around and bellowed, “Get some teeth!” After the game, all of the jubilant Rabbitohs fans seemed to be cheering and sneering directly in our faces. It was then that I learnt that hating the opposition is not enough- if your team loses, you must also hate your own team. “Stupid Roosters,” Geoff muttered, all the way home.

Team spirit = sexy
If you want to impress your boyfriend at the footy (I mean, why else would I have gone?), forget wearing fancy perfume, skinny jeans, or even your new cool t-shirt with pictures of Cheeseburgers on it. What will really impress your man is if you are decked out in his team’s colours. Of course, I didn’t own anything vaguely football related, so Geoff dropped a few hints: “See that girl over there, honey? You could also wear Dior sunnies with your Rooster’s jersey!” Now, I am all for being an independent woman- as Destiny’s Child says, “The shoes on my feet, I bought it! The clothes I’m wearing, I bought it! The rock I’m rocking, I bought it! Cos I depend on me!” But when your man would prefer you to wear generic footy gear instead of stylin’ designer clothes? Get him to fund your new look himself! I ain’t gonna look like some boring jock girl if I have to pay for it myself! Geoff ended up buying me a Roosters scarf, which I thought was very sweet. Sure, I would have preferred a cashmere Burberry scarf, but you know, I’m just grateful that he doesn’t go for the Tigers, because their colours are way unflattering. Orange and black, ew! It’s not Halloween, people!

Express emotion, but don’t expect sympathy
Because his beloved team was losing, Geoff spent most of the match with his face in his hands. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was shouting at the field and expressing general despair. As Geoff’s fiancée, I tried my best to offer the care and comfort that can only come from a woman. I laid my hand on Geoff’s shoulder and said, “Oh, don’t worry, honey! Maybe next game, they’ll be better. It’s okay.” But alas! Geoff was not in need of my sympathy! Instead, he pushed my hand aside and said hastily, “Shh, shh, I’m fine.” He then proceeded to shout more at his team for being clumsy oafs and generally foolish. It was here that I learnt my vital lesson: a man goes to the football to reaffirm his masculinity. He does not need his fiancée cooing and offering him tissues and a cuddle. So instead, I alternated between agreeing with Geoff and just spacing out. This seemed to work better. Later, Geoff did admit, “It’s better to just keep criticising your team and shouting at them.”

Save your questions for later
Once again, because Geoff was quite…emotional during the game, I decided to suspend my football-related questions for after the game. This proved to be an excellent decision. Not only was Geoff impressed by my vague interest, he could also briefly forget about his team’s failure as he explained the nuances of rugby league. By the way, did you know, a “knock-on” has nothing to do with getting “knocked up”? I mean, I guess that it makes sense, because guys never have to worry about getting pregnant.

Expect conversations with strangers
After the football game, Geoff and I headed off to Macca’s in our Roosters scarves and jerseys. It was 10.30pm, and I was all hungry and delirious. As I gazed up at the menu, the McDonald’s boy said to me, “I’m sorry for your loss.” I thought to myself, “How does this young man know that I missed out on having dinner? This is amazing!” Then he started to mention all of these foreign names like Mini, Wingy…were these new McDonald’s mascots? And then I realised: he was talking about football, because he had seen my Roosters scarf! So Geoff and the boys working at Macca’s started to talk about footy, and I was thinking, “Um, excuse me? My McChicken meal?” So girls, don’t wear your team colours when you are ordering dinner unless you want to be hungry for a looooong time, and unless you like talking to random boys. But then again, if you are a single girl, maybe it’s the way to go. And when I ordered a soft-serve cone, one of the boys made me a gigantic serving. It was like two ice-cream’s worth in the one cone! And that, dear friends, is not something to be laughed at.

Relive the moment
So, foolishly, I thought that just going along to the game was enough. Even though I was flipping through a magazine for some of the time, I thought that just sitting there would do the trick. But no- I soon learnt that I should have also PAID ATTENTION to the game! Why? Because Geoff likes to relive every moment of the game with his friends! Remember that pass? Remember that tackle? Remember that kick? Um, no. But I do now, especially after I heard you guys talk about it for half an hour.

*****
That’s a lot of advice from me for this week, so I’d better sign off. Let me know if I am right or wrong, and if I have just done a terrible thing for the feminist movement.

Ta-ta,
Lala xxx