“Thou shall have no other…”

“Thou shalt have no other….” I have read this in my days of biblical browsing. This text is supposed to mean that there is nothing humans should worship but the Almighty. But there is definitely something else iconic in Australia now, as the seasons turn, and the nights are drawing in. Our annual daylight saving is changing, and there has appeared those ritual pilgrims, evident in all media and at massive gatherings.

Yes, I am discussing here today that sacred belief, Football! Here, I am living in old Melbourne town, where we staunchly support all teams Victorian. Apart from some misguided souls who follow interstate AFL teams like Sydney Swans and Brisbane Lions. I presume this scene is similar in northern states, where Rugby is their idol. As the fleeting wings of time have elapsed, here we have our own rugby and soccer teams and lady footballers.

Our format of AFL football was invented in another past century, by a vast gathering of posh school boys playing on a paddock of scythed grass and mud, against the old boys. This unique game involved kicking a rugby leather oval, and still has much body contact. Rules of all sports are still evolving. Guernseys sported diagonal sashes, and some clubs cling to their original logos. Other clubs were founded, in which some regarded as underprivileged lads who came from slums or working-class suburbs. All clubs battled hard to gain that holy of all grails, victory in the finals.

Each club of football supporters and players expected all their families to barrack for traditional hereditary club. Most did, some became renegades, or acquired a second team. Worship and ritual couture in club colours, beyond home décor and kitsch, formed immediate bonding at matches. All the faithful were seen sticking together in the face of sledging by opponents. To some in football season, it was a fixation. Often futile, but a focus can be fun.

My uncle, still kicking around, did play at top elite level for an underachieving football club. He never enjoyed the opportunity to compete in finals or achieve a premiership. But he inspired our loyalty to family heritage. As well as that, I married a devout Collingwood fanatic, it was beyond tragic to see our beloved black and white side getting thrashed by 10 goals in a final. Our boys were known to doing things the hard way. I can say in later years, I do enjoy a victory. Sometimes I do not listen or view such a nonsense. Ignoring football when my teams hit the playing surfaces can be a top life hack.

Some time ago, one of my former teaching buddies was always a firm friend, two single women dwelling in adjoining suburbs. Let’s call her Sandra, not her real name. She was turning sixty and sent an invitation. I phoned her, wondering what gift she would really prefer. “Yellow and black rug and beanie! Just like your Collingwood stuff you made.” No problem! There was nothing to worry about.

Yellow and black are Tigers, still the noted enemy of my teams, due to past grievances, only a game. (Heresy). Patterns I definitely had, wool stash was purchased. The gift included a Tiger beanie, scarf, cosy rug, cushion covers, gloves for winter warmth, and a 3d tiger, plus a yellow and black brooch. Much appreciated.

The seasons were still turning for Sandra, my staunch gal pal. She developed vision impairment, but stayed in her own unit. She often phoned, saying, “Turn on you TV, Jeremy (name changed) is playing for my Tigers at the MCG. I am so proud!” Sandra had educated most of my students in earlier years, and I gained them in Grade Six. Jeremy and his classmates at that time at an old parochial primary school, practised football on a gravel playground. Now banned due to student wellbeing. Playing on gravel instead of turf did produce some very sure-footed, successful footballers.

Sandra’s phone call would continue. “I am sitting here listening to the TV, under your lovely rug, with my beanie and scarf on. Look how cute those boys are in their shorts, we can look. Old women perving doesn’t do any harm.”

The seasons passed, then Sandra was afflicted by Stage 4 liver cancer. She was very courageous. She knew her number was up, so she made her peace with her past. Sandra also told everyone her very firm intention to meet both her undertaker and her Almighty, Maker, clad in her Tiger scarf. So she did.

Thou shall have no other divine but the One, and plus football. It’s that time of the year!