By Anne Fedorowytsch
Walking into my boyfriend’s house for the very first time I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. One of the last things I was anticipating to greet me inside his family’s garage was a life size poster of Nick Riewoldt. This was going to take some getting used to.
I was spending the weekend in Ballarat, the hometown of my boy. The trip had been planned ahead for a few weeks and little did I think it could possibly coincide with a NAB Cup grand final on my stomping ground.
Before last weekend I had only missed a Crows game in Adelaide twice in the past decade. Once I was absent for a Showdown completing a junior tap exam (of the dancing kind). Sitting in the car pre-exam it felt like my insides were being torn out as the match played out on radio. Instead of reciting my theory for ball changes and hop steps I was more focused on the classic Rutten v Tredrea dual.
The following time I featured on the absentee’s list was the opening round of the pre season competition last year. Though this time, I had a choice. It was either watching the Adelaide Crows for their first hit out of the New Year or joining an army of red for Adelaide United’s annual fixture at Adelaide Oval. After a considerable amount of umming and ahhing I chose to check in with the Reds’ media team in what turned out to be a victory in the round ball game.
And now, I was faced with the possibility of missing out on a slice of silverware watching from afar in the clutches of a Saints supporter. However to be fair to my Sainter he was cheering on the Crows against West Coast when the ball was bounced at AAMI Stadium on Saturday night.
We watched the grand final from the best mate’s North Ballarat lounge room. For the record the best mate is a passionate Dons man.
In between Bacardi’s, beers and boy talk (I lost count of the amount of big Cox quips) the Crows kicked ahead. In what was a mostly scrappy game the South Australians triumphed as we collected our first ever grand final trophy on our home turf. As my heartstrings tugged a little voice in my head repeated, “It’s only the NAB Cup, it’s only the NAB Cup.”
The following morning my conscious was easing and the thought of missing out on celebrations was fast fading from my mind. I was then forced to quickly turn my attention to the prospect of meeting the opposition parents.
It was in this instance I came face to face with the most loved Saint, folded arms and all, glaring down at me from the garage wall. The paraphernalia didn’t end there. In fact that wasn’t even the beginning. Did I forget to mention the Saint Kilda emblem stretched across the t-shirt of my boyfriend’s father in the garden?
The red, black and white theme continued inside and was also joined with a splash of white, blue and red from the Doggies courtesy of the middle brother. Inside the oldest brother’s room I discovered Mr Riewoldt had weaselled his way into the heart of the house and stood side-by-side my very own superstar in a frame on his desk. I began to size myself up against the Saints’ champion. Blonde vs blonde just who would win the affection of the Ballarat boy?
On our way out we passed Saint Nick in the shed. Tragically a gust of wind had torn the poster boy in half tearing right through his baby blue eyes. I walked out hand in hand with my man. Anne 1 Nick 0.
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Thanks Anne. I know now who won the NAB cup.
“Once I was absent for a Showdown completing a junior tap exam (of the dancing kind).”
I can relate to you here. I’ve missed quite a few games in my theatrical pursuits, and I’ve often had my eyes (or usually a surreptitious ear) elsewhere during shows.
One big game that springs to mind is the 2010 prelim, Cats v. Pies. I was treading the boards in Man of La Mancha. I felt a bit like Don Quixote that evening as I held on to a sense of idealism as we were overcome by a dark enemy. It was a good game to miss.
Good luck mixing religions. My other half is a Dee and we go ok, although some combinations work better than others.
Big Cox – little impact.
Good luck with the rest of your life Anne. As they (nearly) say: once you have had one from the ‘rat, you can never go back.
Many years ago, a female friend, who wasn’t my girlfriend, came to our house in Ballarat as we made our way back to Melbourne from a basketball tournament in Swan Hill. The girl was/is an Essendon supporter; her father a Sun sports journalist. She still talks about the shock of seeing the kitchen wall of my family home adorned with multiple specimens of Collingwood paraphernalia.
To true AF.
I just married a ‘Rat….fink?
*Too
Anne – you sound like you’re in love.
The middle brother is obviously the smart one of the family.
Anne – did that “gust of wind” have red, blue and gold fingernails? Beer, boy talk and a Saints supporter – when are you going to tell us about his good side??
On the footy front, you have a good midfield of big, quick players. It is the same one you had last year, but only Thomson was trying then, and the rest sooked it. When Walker and Tippett came into the game after half time you looked a good side. Sanderson is certainly getting them to play for each other. Reckon you will see some finals action, and Port will be competitive this year (9-12 I reckon). They have some good young players with a year in them now.
So my old home town won’t be Glumsville this season. See you in September.
Selling yourself short Anne! I think you have a few more up on Nick than just 1.
Also just thought I’d point out that you did fail to make mention of the fact that you did insist on shouting out “Go Stiffy” at every opportunity….
Hopefully there is lots more footy viewing from good old Ballarat! Love reading your writing! Keep up the great work. Xx
Cheers for the responses everyone!
And Peter_B not red, blue and gold fingernails but maybe pink haha.