Football tipster’s tale of woe
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.