For the Love of Sport
What is it about watching a contest of skill and agility that drives spectators wild? Is it an unconcealed admiration for the energy that athletes embody? Is following a team like joining an all-embracing community? Or is sports fanaticism an accolade for the effort and determination that we ourselves cannot sustain?
I was flicking through a copy of Inside Cricket the other day, selectively reading bits and pieces about my favourite players, when it hit me - what makes a sports fan? A barrage of questions then followed. I thought about Victorians decked out in their favourite AFL teams’ colours (a tightly worn scarf and perky beanie protecting them from the winter cold), the verbal stoushes between traditional rivals Australia and New Zealand, the agony, the ecstasy during international competition, flag-waving Olympians and the irrepressible chant, “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi! Oi! Oi!”
To me, I think fanaticism is about having someone more capable than yourself represent you. For example, although I used to play cricket, the level of skill and understanding needed to play the game at an elite level was far beyond my capabilities and, I assume, beyond most other fans’ abilities too. Yet, I still enjoy going to the games, watching them on TV and playing the odd backyard match.
This goes some way towards explaining a few things, one being why more men are sports fans than women; men match themselves against other men physically and sport is a manifestation of that, kind of like a miniature war where soldiers represented kings and the whole nation reaped the benefit of victory. The prize may be a shiny trophy rather than a piece of land, but the concept is the same. So when your team loses there is a certain pride at stake that can be exploited and escalated to post-match violence.
Women, on the other hand, traditionally compete against women in other matters (aesthetics, child-raising, needlework skill etc) rather than in a physical manner or do not compete at all, conditioned instead to work for the collective good. You can see that this is changing as more girls take up sport and, as a result, become fans.
Then there’s the community element. When you follow a team, you are joining a club of like-minded people where you know you all have at least one thing in common. The feeling is exponential when you catch the atmosphere at a live game, or at a gathering of supporters such as in a pub, and who wouldn’t want to share the feelings of love and loss with a bunch of like-minded fans? It may only be a game but if you’re passionate about sport, it can become part of your life.
['For the Love of Sport' is dedicated to Nick, who is a recently converted soccer freak ]
For the Love of Books
Mention the words ‘your favourite book’ to any librarian and prepare for a lowdown on the author, the themes and the writing style as their eyes glaze over in reverence. Powerful writing can be revolutionary; it can change the way you think, the way you feel, the way you live your life.
Funny then, that the solitary activity of reading inspires such a collective passion. Funny then, that such a tangible piece of an author’s work, a book, stands opposite the intangibility of the author, who is just a name on a jacket. Turn up to an appearance by a popular author and the word ‘popular’ takes on a new meaning - just ask JK Rowling whose Harry Potter books have sold millions around the world and are available in several languages.
Authors are gods, creating worlds and the lives within them between the covers. We are hooked by the stories of people we have never met, or people who have never existed until we read, we become obsessed with the worlds in which these characters live wondering if dystopic futures could ever be or bloody periods ever did. We love good writing, the scenes that we could never describe with such perfection, sharp dialogue that bubbles with wit and the emotion of a soliloquy.
If you’ve ever wanted to invent a transportation device to visit other worlds then I’m afraid you’ve been beaten to it, and you need look no further than a book. Books are portable devices that allow you to visit other worlds at will, whether you’re on a train, lounging on the beach or sitting on the loo. They can be political, imaginative, aspirational, heart-wrenching and that’s just a page in some novels.
Why love books? Because books only give you what you put in, they are the ultimate reward system. Wade through dense language like in The Lord of the Rings trilogy and you’ll be rewarded with discovery of the wonders of Tolkien’s detailed world and understand the meaning of courage. Be patient with the convoluted chapters in Joseph Heller’s Catch 22 and watch the world of war unravel through the sharp pen of satire. You have to work to get the most out of books, for books that give us instant gratification are dispensable and don’t last the ages.
Then there’s the immortality associated with writing, filling us with a kind of reverence for our own culture. You may never travel to Greece and see the historic monuments that it has to offer but you can pick up a translation of Homer’s mythical epic The Iliad and The Odyssey that will take you back in time to when such monuments were built with the added bonus of a depiction of society at the time that he was writing.
Books are our teachers, our entertainers, examples of our language and pieces of our culture and those who embrace books become better for their relationship.
['For the Love of Books' is dedicated to Gail who just won't stop reading]
Motorheads are a completely different breed of people to your average human being. They can tell you anything from the stats of their latest acquisition to the details of their next - before the car ads hit TV. Far from being a vehicle to get them from A to B, cars understand them and they understand cars, they are one and the same body.
Of course, I exaggerate. To an extent. I used to work for a car magazine where readers would write in about how great their car was, from lovingly describing its features to its exceptional capabilities. The letters were so enthusiastic it felt like a conversation conducted between competitive parents about their children - only these children were made of metal and drank unleaded.
Why have cars become such a part of Australian culture? Perhaps, like in the US, it’s because we have great distances to cover with inadequate public transport, forcing us to depend on our vehicles. But there must be more to it than that. Being able to drive indicates a certain freedom and with plenty of adult children still living with their parents, perhaps it’s an affordable way to move out without moving out.
Motorheads, of course, take it one step further. Many of them are mechanics, either professional or self-taught. They like to know how things work, they like to take broken things apart and put them back together and they derive much satisfaction when their project is successful. They like fiddling with things to make them better, they like… reinventing the wheel.
So it must be a sense of accomplishment that binds motorheads to their addiction; cars are the manifestation of their abilities to tweak and improve. But what of the owners of flashier cars and car collectors? Well, cars are then part of a person where everything from the colour scheme to the sound of the engine reflects the driver’s personality. Not to mention a certain exclusivity that comes with owning a very expensive car, several vehicles or one that has been personally customised.
I once saw a TV segment about the McLaren factory that produces just 3000 vehicles a year. The cars are expensive because they are all made lovingly by hand; workers - car enthusiasts - dressed in designer gear. You can’t put a price on that kind of passion. Well, you can but it’s beyond most of us.
['For the Love of Cars' is dedicated to my motorhead friend Dave who's just crazy about the Aston Martin ]
