“What’s wrong with you!?”, or, why Geelong supporters are idiots
I don’t mind Geelong; living here, I mean. Sure, the same stink saturated bum that yells at me on my way to work each morning is starting to really give me the shits, and those Goddamn palm trees down Moorabool are a fucking embarrassment (I’m waiting for the day a coconut falls from one of those bastards and paralyses the guy at K-Rock whose job it is to squeeze as much shite music into one day as humanly possible), but there are also some great things about living in this town. For a start, where else in the world would I go if I wanted to see a giant fibreglass replica of the Sphinx? Secondly, Geelong has more tattoo parlours than people. This is probably a Guinness world record, and also a convenient statistic for those locals waiting for just the right moment to get that “tribal” motif stabbed permanently into their ankle or calve.
Such admiration might sound weird. In fact, you’re probably starting to think that someone with such low standards has probably never actually left Geelong, but this is not the case, I can assure you. Despite the fact that I usually refuse to travel anywhere I can’t buy a Beaumonts Pie, I have, believe it or not, visited other cities. Under no circumstances would I call myself the most well travelled G-towner, but I’m experienced enough to know that Sydney rates itself way too highly, that the drive to Adelaide is more interesting than Adelaide itself, and that Ballarat should probably just rent a bulldozer and start the fuck again. Sure, Geelong is an ugly, cold, unwelcoming beast in its own right, but we G-towners know why we live here, and a detailed justification of our decision to call it home is not necessary. It’s simple: this little town has its own football team.
Not one other Aussie city, not even Fremantle (who shares the largest state in the country with only one other team), shares the same strange relationship with its AFL club that Geelong shares with its Cats. Even those Geelong people who claim to barrack for other teams can’t seem to shake their interest in the side. A Collingwood supporter who lives in Geelong probably couldn’t tell you the last time the Magpies won a Grand Final, but their statistical knowledge of the great 90s Cats sides would amaze you. During the colder months of the year this city is ALL about the Geelong Football Club. We eat football. We shit football. We lap football up like thirsty dogs at public toilet urinals. I think you get my point. For most of the year, GFC is Geelong.
Up until now though, I have ignorantly thought that this relationship between the town and the team was one (at least most of the time) based on “support”. The team wins: we clap them off the ground and drink ourselves into a stinky, drunken mess to celebrate. The team loses: we still get shitfaced, but we also still buy memberships, we still go to games, we still “support” the team. It’s a little confusing then, that in our current situation (3 wins, 7 losses) the meaning of the word “support” seems to have morphed into something completely different. In Geelong right now, to “support” means to ridicule, to blame the coach, and to send a letter to the Geelong Fucking Advertiser declaring your disgust in the team. Right now, the word means give up on the Cats unless, of course, they’re going well.
You disgust me Geelong.
Now I know, like every Geelong supporter, how Goddamn frustrating it is to support the Cats. It’s not an easy gig being a Cats fan, is it? Let’s take 2006 for example, as this season seems to have caused many G-towners a great deal of agony. The NAB Cup win, while possibly one of the greatest things EVER!!!! (although I stopped short of buying the DVD), filled the town with great confidence for the season ahead. This was our year, our premiership, our stinkin’ turn for Christs’ sake. But shit happens Cats fans – you lose to the Hawks and the downward spiral begins. Before you know it, a 54 point lead turns into a blue and white pyjama party and a 3 point loss. Geelong supporters know what I mean when I say, “this is typical Cat behaviour.” But I for one, still really, truly believe this Geelong team to be far from typically Geelong.
Whether you agree or not, the point of the matter is that they’re not going to get out of this slump with the whole town on their back. The team’s close link to the city is a real fucking curse at the moment. Use your heads! Stop threatening to throw away your membership. Stop booing the team off K-park. Stop feeding the Geelong Fucking Advertiser with your half-assed miracle solution to fixing the team’s forward line problems, and start showing up at games again. Keep the fuckin’ faith, you idiots.
Sure, us G-towners love our team, but we love to hate it as well, and this is becoming a huge fucking problem. Mark my words, we will NEVER win a flag while you bastards are waiting for the team to fuck-up. Last weekend was a perfect example of this, because if you’re still wondering where that 54 point lead went, the negativity exuding from the 20,000 people at KP last weekend played a big part in the loss.
Out.
I don’t mind Geelong; living here, I mean. Sure, the same stink saturated bum that yells at me on my way to work each morning is starting to really give me the shits, and those Goddamn palm trees down Moorabool are a fucking embarrassment (I’m waiting for the day a coconut falls from one of those bastards and paralyses the guy at K-Rock whose job it is to squeeze as much shite music into one day as humanly possible), but there are also some great things about living in this town. For a start, where else in the world would I go if I wanted to see a giant fibreglass replica of the Sphinx? Secondly, Geelong has more tattoo parlours than people. This is probably a Guinness world record, and also a convenient statistic for those locals waiting for just the right moment to get that “tribal” motif stabbed permanently into their ankle or calve.
Such admiration might sound weird. In fact, you’re probably starting to think that someone with such low standards has probably never actually left Geelong, but this is not the case, I can assure you. Despite the fact that I usually refuse to travel anywhere I can’t buy a Beaumonts Pie, I have, believe it or not, visited other cities. Under no circumstances would I call myself the most well travelled G-towner, but I’m experienced enough to know that Sydney rates itself way too highly, that the drive to Adelaide is more interesting than Adelaide itself, and that Ballarat should probably just rent a bulldozer and start the fuck again. Sure, Geelong is an ugly, cold, unwelcoming beast in its own right, but we G-towners know why we live here, and a detailed justification of our decision to call it home is not necessary. It’s simple: this little town has its own football team.
Not one other Aussie city, not even Fremantle (who shares the largest state in the country with only one other team), shares the same strange relationship with its AFL club that Geelong shares with its Cats. Even those Geelong people who claim to barrack for other teams can’t seem to shake their interest in the side. A Collingwood supporter who lives in Geelong probably couldn’t tell you the last time the Magpies won a Grand Final, but their statistical knowledge of the great 90s Cats sides would amaze you. During the colder months of the year this city is ALL about the Geelong Football Club. We eat football. We shit football. We lap football up like thirsty dogs at public toilet urinals. I think you get my point. For most of the year, GFC is Geelong.
Up until now though, I have ignorantly thought that this relationship between the town and the team was one (at least most of the time) based on “support”. The team wins: we clap them off the ground and drink ourselves into a stinky, drunken mess to celebrate. The team loses: we still get shitfaced, but we also still buy memberships, we still go to games, we still “support” the team. It’s a little confusing then, that in our current situation (3 wins, 7 losses) the meaning of the word “support” seems to have morphed into something completely different. In Geelong right now, to “support” means to ridicule, to blame the coach, and to send a letter to the Geelong Fucking Advertiser declaring your disgust in the team. Right now, the word means give up on the Cats unless, of course, they’re going well.
You disgust me Geelong.
Now I know, like every Geelong supporter, how Goddamn frustrating it is to support the Cats. It’s not an easy gig being a Cats fan, is it? Let’s take 2006 for example, as this season seems to have caused many G-towners a great deal of agony. The NAB Cup win, while possibly one of the greatest things EVER!!!! (although I stopped short of buying the DVD), filled the town with great confidence for the season ahead. This was our year, our premiership, our stinkin’ turn for Christs’ sake. But shit happens Cats fans – you lose to the Hawks and the downward spiral begins. Before you know it, a 54 point lead turns into a blue and white pyjama party and a 3 point loss. Geelong supporters know what I mean when I say, “this is typical Cat behaviour.” But I for one, still really, truly believe this Geelong team to be far from typically Geelong.
Whether you agree or not, the point of the matter is that they’re not going to get out of this slump with the whole town on their back. The team’s close link to the city is a real fucking curse at the moment. Use your heads! Stop threatening to throw away your membership. Stop booing the team off K-park. Stop feeding the Geelong Fucking Advertiser with your half-assed miracle solution to fixing the team’s forward line problems, and start showing up at games again. Keep the fuckin’ faith, you idiots.
Sure, us G-towners love our team, but we love to hate it as well, and this is becoming a huge fucking problem. Mark my words, we will NEVER win a flag while you bastards are waiting for the team to fuck-up. Last weekend was a perfect example of this, because if you’re still wondering where that 54 point lead went, the negativity exuding from the 20,000 people at KP last weekend played a big part in the loss.
Out.
posted by mrs. watson at 9:53 am
3 Comments:
Well said Mrs W.
Despite not living in Geelong I think I must be suffering the worst. I saved my pennies and flew, from Perth, all the way to Melbourne for my first experience at the G. It was bloody awful at best. Over 100 points! I'm just glad Matty Scarlett apologised.
Last week I spent the whole week supremely confident and pranced around the office declaring that Geelong were going to win by 5 goals. Now keep in mind here I work at the Department of Sport and Recreation which almost equates to the Eagles second home after Subiaco. I wore my scarf around my neck all week and made a point of speaking with every Eagles supporter in the building.
Now by Tuesday when I came into work (Monday was a public holiday) I was glad that this is a two team town. At least the Dockers supporters show me some sympathy. Now while I strongly believe I am partly responsible for the grief I copped after the weekend, I still wore my scarf in yesterday and copped it sweet.
Now hearing about all these Geelong people showing their 'support' in the form of proposed boycots of the games etc. It makes me ashamed to call myself one of them.
In summary, well written Mrs W.
P.S. I'm glad I don't get the Geelong Advertiser here
You should send this into the geelong advertiser. But really I agree with you that the cats just reflect the crowd (ugly try-hards with bad hair that sing win they are winning and piss and moan when they are losing) really this is geelong and you can’t expect anything more or less. Apathy is the word.
Fingers crossed for a coconut for the k-rock wank, but why wait and lets just give him a flying cross-body on his way to work and steal all his Nickleback cds.
I like the cut of your jib, el chupa. When can we organise such an ambush? But really, how stupid does a radio station have to be to name itself "Krock"!? Idiots!
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