What was also really good was that the crowd were allowed out onto the ground after the game. And I’m pretty sure all 19,000 of us took up the opportunity.
It was lovely -mildly dangerous- but lovely. Amidst the wayward species, the flailing arms and the shanked kicks, there was a real sense of community. People marked each others balls, there were smiles everywhere (even the faces of Freo supporters - which I thought was especially magnanimous) and everyone relished the opportunity to stand in the middle of the G and look up.
The community spirit and sense of fun on display that evening under the lights of the G was worth every patch of damaged turf, and I sincerely hope the MCC and AFL consider allowing it more often –again.
Actually, when I say the crowd got to stand in the middle of the G, that’s not strictly correct, they fence off the centre square to protect it from wear and tear so only two people got to stand right in the middle of the ground. Me and little boy called George.
I was enjoying a bit of kick to kick with my companions when a little boy near to me got clocked in the head with a football. Tears welled in his eyes and those in the vicinity all rushed over to see if he was alright. It transpired that poor little George had not only copped a footy to the side of the head, he was also lost and after many minutes of trying to work out where his dad might be, I went to security. They then got George and me to stand right in the middle of the ground so that George’s dad might see him.
Standing there with George, trying to pick a face I had never seen out of the crowd I was overcome with that same gut wrenching feeling I has as a kid, that George was having right at the moment, of being lost and totally helpless. The feeling passed in a moment, but I was surprised it had come at all. I was the grown up, confident and consoling, but it seems that feeling is never too far from the surface no matter your age.
Don’t worry, this is a happy story. I have never seen a little boy run so fast as George when his dad did finally emerge out of the crowd and I’m pretty sure the bump on the head was long forgotten! I'll wager, if you could ask him, George would still be keen to run onto the ground for a kick after next week's game too.
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