Today I walked into Bakers Delight while shopping.
The lovely Woman behind the counter, who’s always cheerful, asked me if I would be watching the game.
I questioned her, “The game?”
“The AFL” She said, and then it clicked, I was completely oblivious to it, Football means nothing to me at all.
As with most people, I began to find out about sport, when I was just a kid, and it seemed to me that everyone barracked for a team.
The question was always “Which team do you barrack for” not “Do you like football?”
I never had a team, I could have made one up, (some did, it made conversation easier) but I tended to be the honest sort.
My parents weren’t into footy, so I wasn’t brainwashed into it like so many other kids, I was allowed to think for myself, and after consideration, taking into my brain that playing footy would give me the opportunity to chase a ball, while wearing hardly anything, in freezing weather, being pushed into mud, having bits of my anatomy broken, and potential coma and/or death, I decided it wasn’t for me, it must’ve taken me ten seconds to work it out.
But I’m not even interested in watching it, I just don’t see anything in it.
So word began to spread that I didn’t like football, and it seemed that I wasn’t into any other sport either.
And people talked, you know, because I was “weird”.
I think conversation went along these lines “He doesn’t like sport… must be a poofta”.
So here was I at the age of ten, being called a poof, and I had no idea what it meant.
So thankyou football for giving me a reputation, I did try to live up to it in later years.
I was born and raised in Melbourne, in case you’re wondering, and I was ten in 1975.
Attitudes have certainly changed, I don’t think there’s nearly as much homophobia around today, and there are many people around, who, like me, simply couldn’t give a toss.
Perhaps I’m a trend setter?