I can’t actually remember, but…

By Gemma Sibillin

The first time I ever went to a game of footy? I wouldn’t have a clue. I don’t remember much about the actual game. Sorry to disappoint, but I can’t actually remember who won. But I’ll try my very best to remember as much as I can.

I’m not sure whether it was an afternoon game, or if it was a night game (told you I couldn’t remember much), but I do know that it was at the ‘G. I went with my Dad and sister, and I thought it was brilliant. I didn’t know that so many people would go to the footy. Guess I was wrong.

The game was between Melbourne, and someone else, but I can’t remember who it was. I can only remember that Melbourne was one of the teams, because my mum was convinced that my sister and I would freeze if we didn’t wear our polar fleece jumpers. My sisters’ jumper was red and navy, and that was the only piece of clothing present from my family that contained the colours of one of the teams playing.

I think we were in seats which we up the back somewhere, but I didn’t care. I was still getting over the amount of people, and how big the oval was. My grass at home wasn’t nearly that green. Feeling accomplished from knowing where our seats were, we ventured back into the sea of legs and bags. “Choose a food and a drink you want to have. Whatever you like” was what my dad told us. Being younger, a sausage roll seemed to have a myriad of more benefits than a pie, and a ‘Lift’ was one of the best drinks is the world. We walked back to our new seats, after realising that we in fact had originally gone to the wrong ones, and began to eat our food. I didn’t care that the game hasn’t started yet. A pie and a fizzy drink!! This was heaven!!

When the first siren went, I was so excited, and so was the rest of the crowd, I gathered. The roar was so loud. But I don’t know whether I was so excited because of the game, or because of the siren. As most would know, there is nothing like the sound of the footy siren on a warm sunny day, or a gloomy one, where rain cascades from the skies. If I remember one thing from this game, I remember that I fell in love with that siren.

About halfway through the game, the inner Italians of my family came out. Out from dads backpack came a thermos, a jar of milk, a couple of teabags, 2 zip lock bags- one with a small portion of coffee in it, the other with some sugar  and paper cups. Into my hand was being passed one of these cups, however it now contained a mixture of a bit of tea, and what I guess would have been a lot of milk. I was excited! I could now continue to watch the game, but now I was remarkably warmer. It was a win-win situation.

I must have enjoyed the game. I remember eating ‘Smiths’ thinly cut chips, and passing the bag between the three of us. I remember trying to make sense of the Record, and being amazed at how high they had managed to score- although I was under the impression that goals and behinds were both worth one point.

It’s funny, though, how I remember not what actually happened at the game, but what food I ate. When we were walking around outside the stadium after the game, there was a man selling hot cross buns. My dad’s eyes lit up. To him, the whole footy experience wasn’t complete with a hot jam donut or two. Even though when he was growing up, the call of ‘peanuts’ was the sound of the footy, the smell of hot jam donuts came pretty close.


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