On Thursday and Friday people asked me what I was up to on the weekend.
My answer: “I’m going to the Brumbies!”
The next question should have been: “But that’s only two hours out of your weekend including travel time to and from the game, so what do you plan to do with the remaining hours?” Or maybe not.
Last night’s Brumbies versus Reds was a great two hours spent.
It was awesome to be there watching Rathbone return and Pocock run on.
The 17,000 strong crowd was enough to give it a great atmosphere.
The game didn’t afford fans many opportunities to see the Brumbies structure for 2013, or see them execute many plays. But given how many times we lost by close margins early on last year, it was good to see that final scoreline.
I say it was a good two hours spent, but it must be a lot less if you are one of those people who rushes out to the carpark the second they are certain of the result.
They are rushing to beat the traffic because beating the traffic is the one thing they love more than anything in the world.
Their second favourite thing is watching most of a rugby game.
Sorry if you are someone who leaves early, I understand, makes perfect sense, beat the traffic – you are a busy man, you can’t be sitting around in climate controlled comfort, on heated leather seats, listening to your favourite music through BOSE speakers, in a vehicle that the whole world has refined into your fully integrated travelling pleasure box.
I mean, who would want to do that for a second longer than they have to?
And another thing I also find strange about the early departers, they are always the guy with the Brumbies hat, jersey, scarf, holding a scrunched up newspaper and yelling at the Ref for 60 minutes of the game.
But then suddenly something that was so important isn’t anymore.
Something so important that they rushed to get season tickets and then ensured they had all of the appropriate attire – suddenly with ten to fifteen minutes to go, they decide they’ve got somewhere else to be.
With ten minutes to go last night I was loving the match, then I started thinking that the pies in the pie warmer would be very crunchy now and it definitely would be within my daily food plan to eat one.
If you must know, I didn’t eat a pie, and that’s a decision I’m still regretting.
So what did you miss if you left the rugby early?
Well from the minute the game started, every time Quade Cooper got the ball, an old man at the end of my row would yell: “Kill him!”
It came out with so much acid and venom you could only assume that Cooper had personally wronged this elderly Canberra resident; stolen his girlfriend, taken a lucrative business idea from the old man and double-crossed him.
I’m not exaggerating; every touch of the ball!
What amused me was that it never failed to amuse all of the people around him, and who am I kidding, it is hilarious.
So with ten minutes to go, Cooper decided to try and do something to contribute to the game in some way. \
It was as if in his mind, the game out of reach, he was at least hoping for a “…Cooper threw everything at the home side in the final minutes…” during Sports Tonight.
Cooper’s more involved in the game, and by default so too is our old mate at the end of the row.
With every one of Cooper’s touches, the old man is firing up more and more.
Then it happened: Cooper receives the ball, the old man cries with all his might: “Kill -!”, as he’s saying it, Jesse Mogg intercepts the ball run away and scores a try.
Cooper was definitely going to be in the highlight reel now.
The old man is cheering “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as Mogg runs to the line. After celebrating the try the old man sits down and says: “And that’s how you kill him…”
Wisdom for the ages. A magic moment.
That’s only some of what you miss when you leave early from the rugby.