Heavenly Beverley : The Last Saturday Arvo In September

Australians absolutely love their footy. Whether watching either variant of rugby, soccer (called "football" by the rest of the world) or AFL, most winter afternoons and evenings are spent roaring for their teams - in person or via the telly. And there are few other Australian cities that can boast more footy maniacs than Melbourne.

They are a tough bunch in the capital of Victoria. Most cold days and nights would freeze the balls off a brass monkey. And cold days can occur in the height of summer. Melbournians are quite comfortable with the fact that they may experience all four seasons in a day, and not in any sort of logical meteorological order. Hence they go prepared for any eventuality out of doors.

The hallowed ground of the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground) can pack in 100,024 fans. Melbourne's population stands at about 4.85 million. Which means that a largish number of Melbourne's citizens are prepared to brave the bitter cold to watch footy and (very occasionally) the scorching heat to watch the cricket.

Yesterday was the culmination, the summit, the ultimate of this season's Australian Football League. Yesterday was the Grand Final between the Collingwood Football Club and West Coast Eagles Football Club. A team from Melbourne's heartland against one of the two Western Australian teams. And Collingwood is a team that polarises Victoria. Apparently, the only fans that barrack for Collingwood are Collingwood supporters. Geelong Football Club, ninety minutes drive from Melbourne has similar issues. However, I am given to understand that other clubs' members will support Geelong if they are playing Collingwood, but never the other way around.

Part of Collingwood's challenge may be caused by their passionately loud and occasionally inappropriate president, Mr Eddie Mcguire, otherwise known as Mr Eddie Everywhere. A prominent media player, he is totally one-eyed when all matters to do with Collingwood are raised. He also has an unfortunate tendency to shoot his mouth off, usually offending a reasonably sized proportion of the Australian public except, of course, Collingwood fans.

A game of Australian Rules footy is fast-paced. I was discussing this situation with a lass from the good old US of A, now resident in Green Hills. She explained that the hype, pre-game entertainment, half-time razzamatazz and the game itself called Gridiron could take just about all day. Plus the players wear body protection. She distinctly remembers watching her first game of AFL and being astonished at the speed and skill, along with clashes between bodies that characterises the Australian game. Plus, she only had time to have a couple of beers before the full-time siren.

There were two spare seats in the entire MCG for the Grand Final. Not bad for a cool winter's day. Collingwood leapt out of the blocks and had established a twenty-nine point buffer by the first break. Over the next two terms, the Eagles ground their way back into the contest. Level pegging at three-quarter time, the game was decided in the last two minutes. Victory to the Eagles by five points. A tragedy for Eddie, coach Nathan Buckley, the players and supporters of the Collingwood Football Club.

Hysterical scenes of joy and grief erupted all across the country. Michael's fearless second-in-command Gary had predicted the Eagles would win by a goal (six points). By the time they returned to our courtyard, Gary was beside himself with gleeful excitement. He then engaged in particularly bad and exceedingly noisy singing, alternating the Eagles Club song and "We are the Champions" by Queen. Full of vigour, raucous gusto and not one note in key, he was a very happy man.

Today, I had to buy the worst, the most dismal, the grammatically woeful journalistic endeavour in Western Australia - the Sunday Times. For the outrageous sum of three dollars, I only purchased this paper for two reasons - the TV magazine and the sixteen-page spread of the Eagles' glorious win.

Roll on the cricket season.