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Last time I was at The Oval I was to see the cricket and the humiliation of the Poms stealing back the Ashes (I saw 'see' but according to Billy Bowden, it was so dark we couldn't actually see anything). The good thing about a losing season back home is that you can pack up your troubles, head over to Rotto and take it all out on some unsuspecting quokkas.

 

Over here, however, when you lose the only small fury islanders are the Irish and it's probably not such a great idea. The good thing about quokkas is they tend not to form into paramilitary groups when you kick them into the bushes.

 

So what more could you ask of the AFL than to send the West Coast Eagles over, fresh from choking their way through a Grand Final, and put them at the mercy of the Fremantle Dockers.

It could have been any other Derby I'd been getting flack from Eagles fans, the local papers (or TNT) had been talking the Eagles up all week, I was nervous yet positive and when a bunch of 8 Eagles supporters who knew nothing about the game (sorry for the redundancy)) sat behind me - it truly was an authentic experience....with a few exceptions.

 

Poms being poms, The Oval is a lot more round then it is oval. This means that the centre square and the 50 metres lines actually cross over each other. So you could get a fifty metre penalty from your forward line and the bloke you'd just clocked in the back of the head would be shooting on goals from his goal square. They also don't have a players race so the players have to run down the stairs to get to the oval (or round). Running down stairs in footy boots is asking for trouble - watching a lanky 211cm giant run down stairs in footy boots is something that can only be described properly in a National Geographic documentary. Much debate was had on whether to stick out the foot or not but in the end, the 10 rows of people that would have been crushed saw us decide against it.

 

Of course the other big difference from a Derby with a big Eagles crowd is that, being in England, some people in the crowd actually knew a bit about football.

 

So my experience this year involved an English bloke sitting next to me. He's been learning a bit about Aussie rules over the last year but this was his first live game. Unfortunately he's been learning from me so he may have been under the impression that Jeff Farmer was actually the Son of God, that Troy Cook would literally be removing people's heads and that Luke McPharlin would be wearing a cape.

 

A little disappointed when The Wiz had to jump over a puddle, he quickly cottoned on and his first impression were of the game were pretty positive. He did point out a few things that seemed quite odd however. First of all the fact that there were 7 umpires. Given the size of the oval and the fact that there were already over 30 players out there, he was struggling to work out who the third team was when they ran out onto the ground. It seemed even stranger, when the small army of umpires were still unable to stop players punching on. (The Poms couldn't really talk though. There were more security guards at the ground than people and they still couldn't stop us running onto the ground)

He was also concerned with the lack of singing involved - I tried to explain this isn't the Australian way - but don't be surprised when you find yourself sitting next to an English bloke next season who tries to get everyone singing strange chants. I can't be held responsible if they include the name Alan Shearer either (who I'm told has nothing to do with my mate Big Al from Quairading).

 

It didn't take long for him to realise why they don't sing songs at the footy though. It's difficult to hold a note when you've got someone like Jeff Farmer running amok in the forward line and doing his best to get the crowd revved up. A cheeky goal from the goal square, ducking and weaving though West Coast players to kick another and then the biggest bit of showboating ever to grace a football ground, the banana kick from thirty metres out (almost in the centre square) so unnecessary that he had to turn his body to face the other way just so he could kick it. The man should be working in the West End.

And it wasn't just the footy getting the crowd going either. This was a group of young Australians in London - there had to be some fighting. It didn't take long for the scuffles to break out but it was the third quarter that the Battle of Britain erupted. Seeing the game slipping from their grasp and unable to find Dr Heimlich to stop them from choking again, the dirty stinkin' Eagles players started roughing up the young Freo side. Daniel Chick should have been wheeled off the ground on a Silence of the Lambs style trolley. Well they may have started it, but Freo finished it. Blokes came for everywhere to help each other out, Troy Cook did his best to live up to his London reputation I'd created and One Melee Dodd will be looking for a new nickname if footage finds it's way back to Australia. There were no Dale Kicket/Brad Dodd style peace makers thrown but a good bit of footbrawl to give the fans their monies worth.

As you'd expect, Fremantle cruised in for an easy win in the last quarter but the interesting thing about the game was probably not so much the result, that was a forgone conclusion really, but the decision of 3000 security guards to stand in the middle of the oval rather than the outsides. Being a soccer town, maybe they had to stand the average distance a pom can throw a whiskey bottle with any accuracy but whatever their reasoning, it didn't keep us Australians from following through with our birth right - running onto a ground after a game to have a kick and maybe to try and steal a goal post or two for the flat. The players didn't mind getting in on a bit of action either - carrying on like they'd never won a trophy before. Hang on.

 

Anyway, I left the ground very satisfied that I'd witnessed my boys and a much better team than when I'd left them all those years ago. I even taught a few of the Poms the song (they seemed to like it, dam foreigners). As we left the ground we half expected to a Holden ute in the car park with a kelpie having a sleep in the back. It was a top day out and we're already planning for next year.