No Escape From Footy Fever

Right now, I don’t think there’s a place in the world from which you can escape World Cup fever, and that includes a little town called Karratha in the remote Pilbara. It’s constantly on the box, whether in the form of coverage of the games themselves, or being talked about on morning shows, current affairs programmes, talk shows, the news or even cookery programmes. The supermarkets are all doing football-themed specials, such as deals on beer and crisps (apparently the staple diet of an avid football fan) and you can buy Socceroos footballs, flags and banners. If this is what it’s like here, in a country where several other sports rank above football in terms of national importance, I dread to think what it must be like in England right now. Flags flying from every car and every house, men wearing England football tops to every occasion (or, worse, not wearing a top at all, showing their support instead by shouting terrible England football songs and sporting the flag in paint on their faces), the football blaring from TVs in every pub and bar. There really is no escape.


As I said though, there is no escape from it here either. Fortunately, however, due to the time difference the games are broadcast in the early hours of the morning here so the football can’t impede on daytime or evening plans. We can enjoy a day out together, followed by a nice evening, then when I go to bed, The Husband will attempt to stay up. That hasn’t quite worked out for him so far though. He managed to watch the first ten minutes of the opening game before his eyelids were drooping and he had to retire to bed, and even the England game couldn’t keep him awake – he was asleep on the sofa long before half-time. Considering the result though, that was probably a good thing. We were at a friend’s house and, much to the understandable disconcert of his girlfriend, the boys hung a row of English flags up at the front. Not only is that a rather bogan (English translation: chav or scally) thing to do, in Australia it is downright dangerous. Luckily, the morning revealed that all windows were intact and no walls had been spray-painted. The flags came down pretty quickly though. Aided by wine and cheese, I stayed up to sing the national anthem, wave a flag around for a bit and just caught the first (and only) goal before sloping off to bed and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don’t think I shall be staying up for the next one though – I’ve done my patriotic duty now.