So, my mate Daniel and I went to the 1st Semi-final last night at the MCG. I used my Weagles membership card to buy two Platinum (read: schmancy) seats on level 2 so we were thankfully seated with other West Coast fans and members. Ordinarily I don't mind sitting next to the enemy, but it just so happens that last night's enemy i.e. Collingwood, are the most feral, bogan, toothless, aggressive group of footy fans I have ever encountered. Case in point: my boss is a mad Pies supporter and once dared to applaud a particularly good goal by the opposition team; he was rewarded for his good sportsmanship with a beer bottle in the back of the head. Yep. FERAL.
By some anomaly (or stroke of bad luck), two Pies supporters managed to obtain seats directly behind us. It soon became clear that these men (read: wankers) were out to piss us all off with their idiotic commentary, screaming and baiting gibes towards us and our team. Previous experience at AFL matches has taught me to expect good-natured ribbing; this was flat-out abuse. My buddy and I didn't pay for premium tickets to cop this from two dickheads who didn't even know the rules and were as pissed as Karl Stefanovic after the Logies (and not nearly as funny).
After the game (we lost) I was 10% sad and 90% irate. By the time I got to Brunswick St I was in no mood for the large groups of wannabe hipsters blocking the entire footpath because they were too busy concentrating on looking cool (they didn't) and trying to impress the wannabe hipster ladies (they weren't). I let out a bit of frustration by making rude gestures and shouldering my way through all the coifed hair and skinny jeans and somehow managed to NOT punch anyone in the face. I considered this a considerable acheivement.
My shitty night ended with me eating an entire block of Kit Kat for dinner. (It was delicious, by the way).
Bring on the new week!