Today I did something that I haven't done since I was 12. I went to a AFL game. Shock. Horror.
Looking back, I have to laugh at the reasons as to why I attended a game bi-monthly when I found the sport so mind numbing. First and foremost, I went fo the food. Pies, chocolate, doughnuts and coca-cola. All the food I was never allowed to eat whilst around my mum suddenly was avaliable in excess inside the walls of the MCG.
Secondly, I attended for the colouful characters who attended and the wonderful variety of words that spewed forth from their mouths. I learnt most of my current vocabulary from such superb masters of the "French" language. I distinctly remember one chappy who, after glancing at me, called Gavin Wanganeen a crabmuncher and I have yet to work out how that was a insult.
Thridly, it let me have bonding time with my Dad. Which wasn't much of a highlight seeing as we hung out all the time at home anyways.
As a child I could never apreciate the game of ALF, let alone understand it. Watching it today I found I could at least apreciate the athletic skill and the disapointment of losing (Essendon lost by 16 points to Adelaide). I still don't understand the rules.
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