1997 AFL Grand Final Party – A Poem


Every colour, every emotion is represented
Then whittled away until only two are left
We are all drunk by this time
And we are no longer represented
But we yell and cheer and take sides anyway
Half way through, the pixel box is abandoned
And one solitary strip in mown on the lawn
Left intentionally long for this moment
Someone throws a ball at me and I whack it back twice as hard
I nick one and in the slips
Dad takes a classic catch
One handed and without spilling a single drop of beer;
Victoria’s Bitter
No-one goes home until it is midnight and all the beer is gone
No-one thinks about the fact that it is spring



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