Melbourne Victory vs Gold Coast


Steve, James, Eddie and myself arranged to watch a football match between Melbourne Victory and Gold Coast. It was a rather tense affair with nobody quite knowing which way things would go but eventually I decided to wear my lightly striped jumper with navy slacks and we set off.

The game was played in the inspirationally named Ethiad Stadium on the South Bank. It was my first visit to the area and I was reminded of how odd it is that every city is split so neatly into tribes. My definitively accepted view of South Bank is that it’s a ‘no trainers in a nightclub’ kind of place.

We had a couple of minutes to kill before the game so went to a nearby pub. As there was no time for pints, I ordered a couple of pots of beer. Pots is the Melbournian name given to half-pints – a peculiarity which seems designed to cause anarchy and confusion in a noisy pub. My worst fears (apart from global destruction and human hair biscuits) were realised when the barman returned with foaming pints. I helpfully explained that I had asked for pots. He took time out from his busy day to glower at me with venomous disgust before stropping off and sulkily pouring the controversially measured liquid into smaller glasses. He harumphed his way back and silently snatched my cash. I did briefly consider explaining that ‘pots’ does sound very much like ‘pints’ and is the equivalent of calling half a gallon a gallurn but instead I opted for whispering “oooooooohhhhh get her” under my breath.

As we queued for tickets, the skies opened and we were hit with a torrential downpour. I appeared to be one of the very few people that had brought an umbrella yet I could sense the drenched masses were happy for me and applauded my forward thinking. In return I made absolutely sure that I in no way looked annoyingly pleased with myself.

Making sure I in no way look annoyingly pleased with myself


Unexpectedly, a tiny little Scotsman hypnotised Steve into thinking he was on the side of the M4 and needed a lift home...


...Five minutes later and Steve's attempt at hitchhiking ends in humiliating failure


The match was played at a thrilling tempo with a ferocity of commitment and emphasis on lightning skills for the first 20 seconds before settling down to a fairly pedestrian, long-ball tussle.

If you don’t want to know the final score, please ignore the massive graphic directly below this sentence:-


It wasn't the fastest game in the world. This is live TV coverage of the second half.


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