Bruce Guthrie’s recent article in The Age newspaper goes straight to an issue close to my heart. Crowd behaviour at the footy.
It’s become topical since Collingwood president Eddie McGuire confronted his club’s cheer squad over “dehumanising” abuse of a St Kilda player. McGuire publicly stated that there’s no place for that sort of behaviour, and went on to suggest that offenders should be kicked out of the ground.
But it’s not just the players that endure such taunts. Guthrie relates a recent experience where, after objecting to some foul language, the perpetrator promptly told him that he could say what he liked, as he’d paid his money.
Over the years, I’ve experienced similar ugly incidents. A few years ago I was sitting with my aunt, uncle, and cousin’s pre-pubescent son. My cousin was absent for some reason that escapes me now. We used to sit in the back row (or nearby) of ground level because my uncle has limited mobility.
Some time during the first quarter I had to ask the two guys (fellow Carlton supporters) directly behind me to watch their swearing, please. I hesitated to do so because, as any sensible patron knows, altercations are best avoided at the footy; just ask the father of Melbourne player Nathan Jones.
From what I recall, the swearing wasn’t vehement, but it was constant, uttered every time the “wrong” decision was made, or the players erred, or the other team scored. And it was clearly audible. Perhaps I might have put up with it on my own, I don’t know, but I was particularly conscious of my young cousin having to hear it, let alone it being unpleasant for my aunt.
So I asked. The response? “We’re at the foo-deee!”
I can’t recall what I said next, but it would have been along the lines of “So what?” Why on earth do some people think that anything goes at the footy? Does the antagonist of Guthrie’s tale hurl abuse in the cinema when he pays money to see a movie? How about restaurants, or pubs, or public transport?
Leading figures and commentators from the game (in addition to McGuire) regularly denounce such foul antics, and scoreboards at both Melbourne venues consistently display a warning about foul language each week. Why do these bozos remain deaf to what the larger football community acknowledges as a major issue.
There’s even a mobile number you can text if the trouble persists. Guthrie believes this is problematic, as it encourages patrons to dob rather than deal with it, and may make security staff more complacent, relying on public alerts instead of confronting anything suspect directly. But I disagree. It’s a comfort to know it’s there, that the AFL does take the issue seriously and will act if required – not that I’m yet to test the system. I have seen security from time to time (my main focus is the game, after all), and trust that they will step in when needed; they can’t keep an eye on everybody, so it’s reasonable that they rely on the public to inform them.
And I have anecdotal evidence. Once my antagonists had poo-pooed my request they, after a brief break, returned to usual form. Quarter breaks probably helped to douse some of the heat from the situation, but they clearly didn’t regard me seriously and, like mischievous kids, openly enjoyed flouting the “rules.”
Seeing red, I got up to seek support. I may have even heard some genuine worry from my antagonists (Shit!). Unable to see any uniformed police, I then spied a middle-aged man wearing a visible wire and speaking into a phone, or perhaps it was a walkie-talkie. Was he “security”? He wasn’t, but he wanted to know why I asked. So I briefly explained about the bad language, and how it didn’t stop, despite repeated requests.
And so he followed me back, where I pointed out the offenders, and then returned to my seat. Bleating their objections, they sounded more like sheepish schoolboys – “It wasn’t me, Mister” – than mature adults. But it stopped. Shortly, my Auntie alerted me that they’d left.
Make no mistake, I ain’t no wowser. I can swear with the best of them, and sometimes it just can’t be helped; we’re all fallible. And as Guthrie says, whilst it’s reasonable to make some allowances for the passion inspired by sport, it “shouldn't descend to the level of a biker buck's night.”
When that man came to my aid, I felt vindicated; still, it required some effort to uphold a standard. Perhaps if more people protested, these ugly supporters might be more inclined to heed the warning in the first place. Perhaps. Next time, I will resort to the texting option (I hadn’t been aware of it at the time), and trust that the AFL will make good on its service.
Our game is often celebrated for its ability to appeal to all types of people, to transcend any so-called cultural divide. And yet clearly, the message has gotten stuck in the crack. Now’s the time for all clubs to take it on board and spread the word. Guthrie suggests signage at the ground is a good way to go, for starters. As he notes, the onfield antics have been cleaned up, now it’s time to deal with the stands.
