FRIDAY night. Hindmarsh Stadium. Adelaide vs Fury. Two games were played. One was a complete disaster. One was an overwhelming success. Which one were you watching?
FourFourTwo, and most football sites across the country, are fuelled by football tragics (and mouthy teenagers). If I had a dollar for every mention of the "beautiful game" I'd be able to buy Clive Palmer and stuff him in a closet with a sock in his mouth. But how many people actually care that much about the "beautiful game" as opposed to the thrilling, entertaining game. And, no, they're not always different but they're also not always the same.
I took seven people with me to Hindmarsh last Friday. We didn't all see the same match. It went a bit like this.
Game One (as witnessed by passionate fans who'd be there anyway): My brother, my 18 year old son and I watched Adelaide play one of their most 'amazing' games ever (I have used ‘amazing' in place of many other less palatable alternatives).
I'm not sure anyone really minded the great goal from Robbie Fowler. We'd come to see him play and an early goal sets things up nicely. Then Adelaide hit back with two goals and, despite the fact our defence looked more brittle than a freshly baked brandy snap, things were looking up.
‘Hangtime' Owusu was given an early birthday present by Hendo and the place went off. We love big Lloyd already. Half-time came and went. Owusu was taken off and....well, most of you saw it and it doesn't bear repeating.
As fans we hid behind our hands, exchanged grimaces, cried, screamed, despaired and shouted gratuitous advice to the players , the coach and the ref. That's our job, but it was a bad day at work. When Cristiano missed the header that could have won it for us we were almost grateful that we wouldn't have to write to Fury and apologise for winning.
It was a wild and woolly night all round and it was hard to leave with much hope for the future. I mean, we'd cheered and celebrated and abused and jumped up and down but our team had been crap. Hadn't it? Admittedly the first half had flashed by and it had been incredibly exciting but....
Which brings me to Game Two (As witnessed by fans who like to be at the game but don't care that much): My beautiful wife, my sister-in-law, my 16 year old daughter and her friend all watched a thoroughly entertaining six-goal thriller. They saw Fowler score, Lucas strike back, Owusu fly, two great attacking strikes from Fury and a last-minutes penalty as a result of one of the best AFL marks of the season.
And then they saw Cristiano almost snatch victory at the death. And if he had, they wouldn't have cared. They would simply have been happier to have witnessed one added highlight.
Basically, they don't know the game intimately and maybe don't care much about how it's played - except that it's exciting and entertaining. And even on a cold, rainy night in Adelaide they all went home happy and entertained. I'm not saying they didn't see the deficiencies, just that they simply don't obsess about them enough to let it spoil the fun. And they'll be back because it was fun.
You see, GCU losing to Newcastle was very enjoyable in its own way, but it was 1-0. Adelaide v Fury was 3-3. That's six goals. That's entertainment. You can't beat it.
I don't want Adelaide to play that badly in defence again but (again, but) we scored three. That's good. I'm pretty sure that most of the new fans at the game went home with a real sense that they'd watched a tense, exciting game of football. And there were new fans. Our crowds have been good and for a dismal Friday night against the bottom team that was a GREAT crowd.
I guess that what I'm trying to say, in my usual long-winded fashion, is that for every Reds fan who wants to sack Viddie and never come back again because of Friday night, there will be one or two new fans who thought it was great and will be back for more. And we all know the tragics will be back anyway - because they're addicted.
Actually (for those who were counting) there was one more game - Game Three (as witnessed by my four year old son): Liam is just getting to that stage when he can sit through games. He knows who Travis Dodd is and he's learning the other names. He loves the crowd and especially the chanting and drumming. For him, the game means a chance to "be loud" with other people.
On Friday night he took the drumsticks he got for Christmas and a metal cake tin. He agreed that he could only play them when there was a goal. That's because we sit midpitch for the tactical view - but it's also the quiet area. Anyway, he got to smash his tin drum six times. In between he raucously screamed, "C'mon you Reds" or "Go Adelaide" as often as possible. Especially when no-one else was screaming. He also brought a (quiet) whistle and an ocarina. At one point he asked who the "man with the bandage" was. When I told him it was Mark Rudan he started yelling, "C'mon Mark Rudan". About the same time that, had I been carrying a sniper's rifle, Rudan would have been substituted very quickly.
He loved the game. He always asks on the way home whether we won. He doesn't keep track of that bit while supporting. He likes being there. With us. He likes to be loud. He loves the Reds.
That's the real game.
