Hello

Please Help Me…

September 22, 2008

I don’t like football.

Not at all.
Not one bit.
I am an impostor in my home State at this moment.
I’m a hostage held captive by the impending Grand Final.
I just want to watch something pretty or creative…
(I don’t mind the Brownlow Red Carpet – it’s a bit of skank-pretty, isn’t it?)
Not boys boffing each other in footy shorts and spitting on the ground as though they’ve forgotten they’re on tv.
Not boring commentators surfing an excitedly chatty wave of cliches and ‘you little beauty’s’.
Not ‘funny’ ads about meat pies and ‘salad plates’.
Not smart AND pretty AND sporty girly commentators waxing lyrical about the various teams stats in serious tones
Not knobs swilling beer out of big huge plastic cups while they hug their mates and dribble
Not ‘atmospheric’ ’emotional’ power ballads sung by fairly good singers (with very bad audio) on The Big Day.
Not plate clinkingly dull Grand Final Day breakfasts where the waiters seem to be the most interesting viewing and Shannon Noll always seems to pop up.
Not Weig’s amazing caricatures of the winning teams with their big eyes and heavy lids and tiny bodies.
Not any of these things, do I want to watch.
How shallow and anti-Victorian of me.

I am sorry Jess. I wish I liked it. Truly I do. Because you like it. And I LOVE you. I will try harder next year. I’ll start a bit of a Crafty Footy Tipping – I really will. I’ll try a whole new slant on things, truly. But for now, I think the footy gene bypassed me. That is all.

Sigh.

xx Pip

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