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State of Origin is a unique rugby league event in that the enormous media coverage it receives ensures that on game night, weekly rugby league fans are joined by a number of more casual observers.
Now, this may be great for the marketing teams producing the avant-garde beer commercials that litter the telecast, however it does mean that your humble Origin party can become an uneasy melting pot of the self-important, the ignorant and the inane.
So, in the interest of group harmony, here are five house guests that you should avoid like a Luke O’Donnell spear-tackle head-butt combo come Wednesday night.
5. The bloke who hasn’t watched a game of rugby league in 20 years
Generally an older relation or work colleague who has been dragged away from watching ‘Heartbeat’ for the evening by a well meaning friend. He cheerily plonks himself down on the couch and asks the bewildered Gen-Y next to him whether “Big Artie is coaching again this year?”
Throughout the entire game he stares at the TV confused as if looking for sub-titles that aren’t there, and wondering aloud to the crowd’s growing annoyance as to why there are two referees, who’s winning the scrum count and why is Wayne Pearce playing halfback. Just after half-time he appears to have a minor nervous breakdown when a 40/20 is kicked by junior Pearce and leaves to go and have a Becks and a good lie down.
4. The out of towner
The out of towner has a pretty decent working knowledge of modern sport but finds himself hampered by the fact that he hails from a far-flung part of the world (Scandinavia, Canada, Adelaide etc) where rugby league receives little free-to-air exposure. Usually tolerated during the opening stages of the match and nursed through some of the basics of the game, he quickly finds himself sitting next to #5 once he starts talking about laterals, offside traps, penalty corners and barracking. Is politely asked to leave when he asks at the 20 minute mark as to whether he’s watching league or union.
3. The gambling addict
Whilst the rest of the gathering is content to hold a first try-scorers sweep, the gambling addict has a bet on the margin, overall points scored, first point scorer, number of times Phil Gould says the word ‘spirit’ during the match pre-amble and whether or not Ricky Stuart will assault the referee in a Brisbane hotel Thursday morning.
The gambling addict makes a continual pest of himself by forever reminding everyone around him about all the ludicrous exotic betting options he’s taken up, bragging how he’ll tell his boss to shove it when Petero Civoniceva kicks the winning field goal and generally spending the majority of the match ignoring the game to look at live margins (and bank accounts) on his iPhone.
2. The man-child
The man-child is the bloke who rocks up with a full camping esky, a bottle of rum, is clad head to toe in his state’s colours, and has his face painted like a five year old at a school fete. Despite the fact that Origin is on a weeknight, by national anthem he’s drunkenly boisterous; by half-time he’s spilt half a dozen drinks on your carpet, spear-tackled the pot plant and got in an argument with your neighbours after urinating in their front yard.
Come the climax of the match his teams getting lapped, he’s lost interest in the actual football (not that he ever really cared anyway) and starts slurring for players to ‘go the biff’, bemoaning that all the players are a ‘bunch a sheilas!’ and to ‘bring back Lazo’ before passing out face down in a his leftover BBQ meatlovers.
1. The could have been
The could have been is your stockily built friend who despite reaching the lofty heights of the Mudgeeraba Redbacks reserves likes to think of himself as having a special insight into in all things professional rugby league. Usually he’ll rock up a little bit earlier than everyone else with a couple of soft drinks and ask if he can put the game on the 34cm TV in your garage so that he can sit somewhere and “hear the commentary” and not “not miss any of the action.”
More often than not he’ll emerge midway during the second half to enlighten the footballing Philistines as to how everything he had predicted would happen has happened and try to give an over complex bio-mechanical analysis of Jamie Soward’s goal kicking routine. The response is generally a polite silence as everyone ignores him and wonders why his fantasy football team is continually lapped by Debbie the Canadian from accounts.
Am I missing anyone, sports fans?
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