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I’ve long been a rugby union, rugby league and cricket supporter. The AFL went from curiosity to professional necessity, then enjoyable acquaintance in my first year as a journalist at Fox Sports.
The NBA finals moved from passing interest to annual ritual. The PGA Tour (and European Tour) have gone from sleep-inducing to sleep preventing; ditto cycling’s Grand Tours. The Olympics and football World Cups are entirely different beasts.
But American football has been that one sport that failed to grab my attention.
It didn’t have the personal battles of the NBA post-season that make each game so deliciously important. It didn’t have the nostalgia and personal sentiment home-grown codes do. There was no Ashes-like rivalry I could sink my teeth into.
There was nothing to be excited about down under, removed from the rhythm of beat writers, the hubbub of drunken Sundays in front of the television with the lads, and the smoky goodness of a tailgate party.
If there were ribs and tinnies involved for Australian supporters, I can promise you the NFL would enjoy a lot more attention.
Even watching two NFL teams duke it out in my younger years at ANZ Stadium didn’t pique my interest to the point of following any team.
In fact, my lack of taste for NFL led to me penning a Roar article a while back about how all Aussies should boycott the Super Bowl.
I got a roasting that day from defensive NFL fans.
But Jarryd Hayne may change all that; I might just go from NFL h8er to luvv@ within the space of a few short weeks.
Then again, he may not. I may not.
Promisingly, average running yards (not metres!) for a running back and punt returner, as well as cuts, blocks and stiff-arms (silly terms for steps, shepherds and don’t argues/fends/palm offs), are becoming a whole lot more interesting to me than they were before.
Is it just because it’s an Aussie? I really don’t think it is, otherwise Sav Rocca would have captured my imagination all those years ago, or maybe even ‘Tha Monstar’.
No, it’s the tale of a superior athlete leaving the code he was safe in, that he excelled at, and taking a one-in-a-hundred chance in a league full of superior athletes.
And then, in his first two matches not played with a Playstation controller and inane repetitive commentary, he kills it.
We all knew how good Jarryd Hayne was in Australia. He was our secret. A big fish in a small pond that was to be guarded, not let loose to swim among those he probably could have.
It’s the curse and blessing of the Australian sporting market – very insular and highly competitive. There’s no real way for any of our athletes to measure how good they are, aside from the four-year cycle of some sports. The two most popular codes in Australia don’t even have that option.
But the secret is out now, and Hayne is quickly transforming from the curiosity to the success story of the NFL pre-season. That’s big news, in a big market.
He’s not playing against seasoned NFL pros, but that’s the whole point. He’s playing against the very same hopefuls trying to impress their coach enough to earn a spot on an NFL team’s roster.
So, if I’m on the bandwagon right now, the mind wanders to where the bandwagon ends. If he fails to win a spot on the 49ers 53-man roster? (I only learnt the rosters were 53 men a little while ago).
If he isn’t given big minutes and a chance to revel at the very tip top during the regular season?
If the ‘Niners fail to make it to the post-season?
No. It doesn’t matter really. Because even if the devout Jarryd Hayne can’t turn me into an NFL disciple, he can count me as a big old bandwagon fan of him.
In the immortal words of Adam Scott:
“Come on Aussie.”
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