Beaten by a Football Turnstile (Part 1) – Mad Chaos: April 4, 1999

Phone Calls and a Football Plan

These eyes with adjourning thoughts do grow consumed yet I must the next chapter hither place. For the sake that chronology shall not be left a further whim into distension I shall relent to the tappets of this keyboard.

Beginning now with my Friday, my dawn was to be seen at 3:00 p.m. Without a second thought I decided to give Keith a call because I didn’t want to be stuck at home despite it being so early. Originally my thoughts were for the both of us to head for the movies but when I did call him he was on his way to the football game between Brisbane Broncos and Canterbury Bulldogs.

The conversation didn’t last many words but after some pondering I called him back. “Is Ralf with you” I asked and as he awarded me a yes I asked him questions about where he was and what stadium he was going to. “Do you want to come” he asked and that was my quest for the second phone call.

Conceiving a plan to meet up with each other at the Olympic Stadium wasn’t working too well but a few gesturing words was all I needed to place plans in order. At first I was going to have Keith wait with Ned, Ralf and some Desmond guy at Minto station but he called me back and changed the plans. “Ralf and Ned don’t want to wait, how about I meet you at the Stadium” he answered and with some planning we arranged for me to give them a call when I was at the stadium.

Grabbing my dad while he was just finishing having something to eat I dressed myself appropriately and seeing that it looked cold outside I decided to take my jacket. Within minutes dad was ready and as he reversed the car out I closed the garage and off we were. It started to look like it was about to rain when I reached the station but I didn’t think to use my jacket yet. Although it was cold I wasn’t cold enough to wear my jacket.

Thanking my dad for the lift I bought myself a ticket with some spare money that mum had given me, the ticket was concession rate. The train arrived in two minutes and jumping on the trip there was pretty smooth sailing.

Entrance D and a Cheap Ticket

Making it to the Olympic Station at 4:45 p.m. I gave Keith a call without as much as stopping for a couple of seconds. “Walk towards the Stadium and I’ll meet you at entrance D” he uttered, “I’ll be right there”. Sounding like that would confuse me since it was such a huge stadium I began my little trek and seeing the letter ‘D’ fairly clearly it didn’t take me too long to pick out Keith from the distance.

Being easier to spot than I was, it took him a minute longer to spot me despite his looking around through the crowd. Once there he introduced me to a guy called Desmond who later I found out works at Keith’s same store as a petrol-pump operator. Ned and Ralf were also there and as Keith handed me a ticket he bought for me hours before I uttered that I would pay him back later. Being only five dollars for a ticket it wasn’t too much out of my distressed wallet.

Losing to the Turnstile

Content that it had been the first time ever to a football game I waited eagerly until they opened the gates at 5:00 p.m. However, the tickets to me were weird where one side had a bar code and as we bunched into the ticket gates with spinning arms to let you in I was a bit clued out as to how it all worked. To me it looked like the ticket machines at the station and when I was up I tried to feed it through but it would only go in a little way. Despite the crowd behind me I tried once again and then took it out to try it the other way around.

Keith and the rest of them were already through and what I failed to listen to was the lady worker telling me patiently that my ticket had been read and the green light had come on for me to walk through. This did not embarrass me that much as it had been my first time with the new technology. The machines were just a big scanner of bar codes with a turntable on it so we could walk through.

Sneaking Past the Ticket Ladies

Making our way to the first entrances to the football stands and seats Keith tried to sneak us into the upper grade seats but the lady didn’t have any of it. Therefore we had to keep walking around until we finally got to the other side of the red taped special seats. Still not able to get past the ladies we walked through the stadium seats all the way around the stadium to the other side. There was only a selective few amounts of seats that were more expensive than our general admission tickets and they were the seats on both sides from the fifty and outward.

Upon making it to the other side of the Stadium we didn’t have to contend against any ladies telling us we had general admission. Rather, we walked straight past them while they were attending everyone else and for the rest of our day except for once we were asked to move. However, when we were asked to move we just made our way down to better seats in the same area. There were so much people around that it was hard to find out where we were to sit.

Cheerleaders and a Packed Stadium

The lady turnaround wasn’t quite what I expected but how much beautiful girls do you expect to be at a football game. There was a couple of women who did tickle my fancy but the best of the lot were the cheerleaders for the Bulldogs, especially the blondes.

Before the actual game started at 7:00 p.m. there was a preliminary game from the first graders, something like that. It was Canterbury Bulldogs against the Canberra Raiders and it proved to be a great game. The four of us were sitting in the upper portion of the lower grandstand where we were under the covers so that if it rained we wouldn’t get wet.

Watching everyone pack into the stadium it didn’t look like much people were there but they announced there to be 32000 people near the end of the game, pretty good. Spread out on our retracting seats (When you stood up) we enjoyed the preliminary game and just before the actual game was to start there was a man walking around asking people if he could check their tickets. Just before arriving to our row the five of us jumped up and made our way to the better seats a couple of rows up from the fifty yard line.

The score was tied at the end of their game but I was revved up but not compelled by how the crowd was cheering on the Bulldogs. Each time they would score any kind of points the whole crowd would go up as one and me, I would just sit there and clap lightly.

Desmond and I sparked up conversations throughout the day as if we were friends already, there was no tension of inequality there. Everyone else was being their usual self, Ralf with his babbling about shit, Ned with his grinning smiles and Keith with his greedy hands and sweltering reasons. Yep, we were men amongst a crowd, just another posse for subjective sport and its television counterpart.

Sitting in Bulldogs Territory

Feeling like I was the only supporter from Brisbane I soon realized that we were sitting in the ‘Silva’ section for the Bulldogs. The entrance for all the players was just to the left of us and there were special seats just in front of us that usually held the players. Keith was sitting next to his cousin which was the father of one of the players, the coach or something like that.

Before the game began the cheerleaders had their go on the middle of the field, waving around their butts and strutting their stuff on the big screen televisions on either side of the stadium. With their jiggling assets I was attuned and when they left I was sadly vindicated once again but that purity left me when the players started to flood onto the field. Most people were standing over the walkway where they were heading out of but I felt no need to get so close and lose my seating for that short time.

Cheering Alone for Brisbane

When the game actually started I found it easier to look at the big screen but that took away from actually being there and the atmosphere of it all. However, when Wendell Sailor intercepted what would have been a try and stormed the length of the field to score a try of his own, I had my eyes glued to the field the whole time.

The crowd was cheering when the Bulldogs were about to score and then in complete contrast I was basically the only one in our group of seats that was parading my ass off. This did amuse me as I flung my hands around in the air chanting for Wendell to head home and that he did. The first points on the board were ours and I thought that this was going to be a clenching game, I was right.

Through the whole game the contrast between my jumping up with anticipation compared to everyone else was humorous and I think I got a bit of people smiling and detesting me at the same time because of who I was supporting. In reality, I should have been on the other side of the stadium because my supporters were there but I was stuck with who I was sitting next to.

There were some tried scored by the Bulldogs, two before half time and then the cheerleaders came on one more time. However, with them they had brought some guy dancer that was doing some funky shit in the middle of them all. Whacked as he was we watched him dance his petty ass off and then with some time his memory was erased with the rest of the game.

The mistakes started coming at the second half and although Brisbane were the next to score we didn’t convert on the two point kick because of the amount of booing and hissing that was taking place. The try was considered a very touchy one and even on the video referee it was hard to call but I thought it was a try. Despite these efforts and the last couple of minutes being the last chance for Brisbane the end score was 20-16.

Gordon Tallis (If that’s his name) done a stupid little kick thing on the ball when Bulldogs were getting ready to play at it. This created an extra two points from a kick for the doggies and if he hadn’t done something stupid like that they might have stood a chance.

Booing and a Missed After-Party

With the game over and my throat beginning to get a little soar I stood up and headed to the walkway to watch the players head back in. All the Bulldogs held their heads up high as people cheered them on in but I felt sorry for the Broncos who by now must be used to all the booing. Things were so bad that they might as well have been spitting at the Broncos and the blank but agitated expressions on the Broncos were enough showing to know how they were feeling.

Hearing so much about these after-parties that Keith can get everyone into he thought not to head to it this time around, what an idiot. My main aim would have been to see the cheerleaders and try to crack onto them but I stood no chance of persuading him. There was a guy that we talked to at ‘Subway’ that night who told us he was at the after-party and a couple of the cheerleaders were trying to crack onto him, great.