•    HOME   
•    NEWS   
•    BUSINESS   
•    INTERNATIONAL   
•    TECH   
•    SPORTS   
•    LIFE & TIMES   
•    OPINION   
•    MY JAKARTA   
•    BLOGS   

I’ve been watching Australian Rules football off and on for about a quarter of a century and I still can’t make head nor tail of it. I have no idea how many players are on each side, I have no idea of the players’ positions and I have no idea how many subs there are and when they can be used.

I don’t have a favorite team and I certainly don’t have a favorite player.

I have no idea who won the grand final last year, or the year before, despite making it an annual pilgrimage to watch the games at a South Jakarta watering hole.

If I have no idea about the subtleties and nuances of the game, if there are any, why do I bother watching it?

Simple. Because it’s such great fun. Fun in the way that English football has long since failed to be.

In fact, there are a few things the world game could learn from the aerial Ping-Pong that is played by hulking great brutes in tight shorts and sleeveless jerseys.

It’s unarmed combat, it’s controlled aggression, it is great theater where no one knows the ending.

The fun starts right when the players run on the pitch to their club anthems, which sound like the Russian masses boasting about their wheat harvest under the glorious communist revolution.

The players charge through some ridiculously large banner, and the fans go loopy.

At kickoff — sorry, I have no idea what it is called but the ref bounces the ball and two players jump for it — players from opposing sides jostle and push each other theatrically for no other reason than it makes good TV.

It looks as contrived as Home and Away or some other dire Aussie soap opera, with testosterone fueled packs of walking muscle puffing out their chests and strutting like they were peacocks on the pull.

Then it’s game on. Players are flying into each other at great speed whether the ball is near them or not, it doesn’t seem to matter.

Push and shove is the order of the day, and if a player goes down then that’s alright.

He’ll get up in a bit, no need to stop the game like they do in that wussy football. Just get on with it.

The thing with Aussie Rules is that it’s 100 minutes of action. Full bloodied action all over the pitch.

Yet the game is so ridiculous.

If you can catch the ball within 50 meters of the goal, you have what is in effect a free shot on goal and if you miss the goal, then never mind, you still get a consolation point.

The players can kick the ball, punch the ball and palm the ball. They can grab the ball from an opponent’s hands, they can clatter opponents.

And there doesn’t seem to be any offside.

Last week we were told, repeatedly, that Manchester United against Liverpool was a massive game.

Next to a full-on Aussie Rules game in front of 100,000 screaming fans, it’s little more than any other noncontact sport.

Like chess.