Some Uninsightful Sporting Analysis   Back to Image Columns List   That I managed to get through my secondary school and college years without ever having spent a single Saturday cheering from the sideline of a rugby pitch is a source of some pride to me. Especially since I even went out with a rugby player for a while.    So, when it comes to rugby, I have to admit that I have very little experience. And even less interest. In fact, I’d sooner volunteer to take home and launder the players’ strips after a match than to actually sit through it. But here in Australia I feel a certain obligation to experience all there is and it is for this reason that I lately took up the offer of attending a rugby match.    The game I went to was a National Rugby League game - I think. Which is different to rugby in Ireland - as far as I know. Or at least it was different until some of the Irish teams broke away to become professional - or something like that. (I never claimed to be an expert. If it’s insightful sports analysis and discussion you’re after then you’ve probably realised by now that you are not going to find it here).    Now what was happening on the pitch at this - my first live rugby match - probably wasn’t all that different to what happens during a match in Ireland. Having been inadvertently exposed to rugby on the telly on occasions in the past when I’ve had to pass through the darkened tv room at home on a Saturday afternoon I have grasped some of the fundamentals. And these are as follows-: (a) a whole load of men, all with very large thighs run about on a pitch, some of them wearing head-bands, some with bits of cloth wrapped around a knee; (b) these men are divided into two teams; (c) from time to time both teams get into a huddle and try to push the other team up the field; (d) the team that manages to push the other team the furthest wins.    I think.    Which was more or less what was going in the match I went to see.    Not that I really paid much attention to the actual game. There were such a lot of other things happening which, as far I know, do not constitute part of the event at home. The first noticeable difference was the fact that there were cheerleaders. Yes cheerleaders. I mean – really - what can you say about a country who decides that cheerleaders are a good idea and one well worth adopting? (I might be wrong but I don’t think America got the idea from Australia.) The second was that when a team scored this fact was flashed across a giant screen and then, when there was an extra big score, (okay – so I’m not sure of the technical term) smoke and sparks were emitted from a mechanical device. The third difference was that all the spectators without exception spent the entire duration of the match eating meat pies called Four and Twenty pies and drinking a rum called Bundy - both Melbourne institutions so I’m told. And lastly there was this awful pop music blaring for much of the match. Eye of The Tiger was an especial favourite and I can only assume that it was an anthem for one of the teams and not the personal choice of whoever got to choose the music. So who won?  Ahmm the team … with  … with … the black and white jerseys. You know the … the … the …what-you-call-thems. Who were they playing against? That local team of course. You know. The aaah … aaah the … it’s just on the tip of my tongue. Will I be asked to go along again? I wouldn’t bank on it.    Back to Image Columns List