So this is our last weekend for a long time without football. The season starts on Friday and I'm thanking my lucky stars our television is still on the fritz. I'm not the biggest football fan and the thought of Sandie Roberts dulcet tones ringing out in the loungeroom for eighteen Saturdays in a row makes me shudder. I'm not exactly a great ambassador for the AFL, but really, I don't discriminate between codes. None of it is that appealing to me.
The real reason I dislike football may be that my team of choice has not had a great season since the year I was born. I like to think of myself as the ultimate bad luck charm: just being alive has ruined their chances of success. It's a crazy kind of power I wield. The Richmond Tigers tend to be the punchline of any lame football joke. It's hard to get excited about the game when you know your team will be relegated to last place from about four games into the season. No matter, they have the best theme song going 'round. That's all that counts, right?
