Foot­ball tip­ster’s tale of woe

Townsville Bulletin - - Inside Today -

it seems I’m an NRL ‘‘ tip­ster’’ in the Townsville Bul­letin sport pages now.

What an up­roar­i­ously funny and un­likely role for me to have.

My sport­ing suc­cesses in­clude a third plac­ing in the un­der-11 girls breast­stroke, a ques­tion­able half­sea­son of so­cial net­ball in 2005 and sitting on the bus singing along to ‘‘ Jack the necrophil­iac’’ with my hus­band’s rugby union side ( Up the Ing­ham Cut­ters!).

There was that time at the ath­let­ics car­ni­val when I flew across the play­ground in 10 sec­onds flat – but that was less about abil­ity and more about the bull-ant that had in­vaded my knick­ers and launched a vi­cious bit­ing at­tack.

Nope – ‘‘ Kath­leen’’ and ‘‘ sporty’’ are rarely used in the same sen­tence.

But as much as I moan and mum­ble ev­ery year about the up­com­ing footy sea­son, and its associated mo­nop­o­li­sa­tion of the TV, I al­ways seem to wind up with at least one fan­tasy foot­ball team and a hand­ful of tip­ping con­tests to keep track of.

I sup­pose I like the competition of it, and that it gets strangers talk­ing and swearing at each other about the ref­er­ees, coaches, crowds, se­lec­tors and price of steak burg­ers.

Did I men­tion that my hus­band is a Roost­ers sup­porter?

Yeah, I know. I live in hope ev­ery sea­son that the Cow­boys will belt the pants off them.

In 2010, as we all know, that didn’t hap­pen, and I found my­self sitting among the Syd­ney crowd at the Roost­ers-Dragons grand fi­nal.

It was amaz­ing – the pas­sion of the sup­port­ers and the whole spec­tac­u­lar show was an ex­pe­ri­ence in it­self.

The cross-eyed Dragons sup­porter in the row be­hind us that drawled ‘‘ it’s our time’’ ev­ery three sec­onds seemed to en­joy him­self too.

It’s fas­ci­nat­ing the ways dif­fer­ent peo­ple sup­port – or ma­lign – their teams de­pend­ing on their suc­cess or fail­ure – on and off the field.

And as far as the off-field stuff is con­cerned, league play­ers are re­ally a bit bor­ing.

Drunken punch-ups and sex in toi­let cu­bi­cles – meh.

They should take some tips from Warnie – he acts like a clown and then bags Liz Hur­ley – that’s en­ter­tain­ment. Road Ode Oh big bus in my boot, why do you drive so close?

Can’t you see my lit­tle red car tap­ping its brake lights at you?

Do you think you’re more im­por­tant be­cause you’re big and square?

I was sym­pa­thetic to your driv­ers’ crappy pay and con­di­tions.

But now I’m not.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.