The Middle-Aged Spectator

The town in which the MAS lives has an excellent pathway running alongside a creek for about 2km. A walk up one side and returning along the other makes for a very pleasant start to the day. The creek environs are home to a surprising array of birds, lizards, flying foxes and the occasional hare and fox. It could be supposed that there’s much that the MAS’s eyes have not seen, too. The MAS started walking some years ago for health reasons. But then stopped because: 1.        Recover from major surgery 2.        Magpies swooping in springtime 3.        Too cold and dark in winter 4.        Too hard 5.        More fun drinking coffee in bed While working in an educational institution, one of the tasks the MAS undertook was to find supply teachers to replace staff members on short notice due to illness etc. This would mean being on-call from 6am. So, the morning walk would happen at 5am. And for a long time it did, but then, refer to the list above.  But, this year

The MAS sat down in front of the TV on Monday afternoon to watch the AFL match between Melbourne and Collingwood, to be played at the MCG. While Melbourne has been a dreadful team in recent years, this game has been played as their ‘Grand Final’, and the contest has usually been competitive, if not enthralling. Yesterday’s edition was a ripper. There was a moment late in the last quarter that was sublime – one of those transcendent things that happen in sport occasionally that can give the viewer goose bumps or even bring tears. In 2009 the Demons debuted their number 1 draft pick, Jack Watts, in the Round 11 Queen’s Birthday match. Watts had been the subject of the usual media hyperbole at the time of his drafting – he was a private school educated boy, a privileged background perfect for the club that is seen more than any other to reflect ‘privileged’ Melbourne. As a schoolboy Jack was a gun – an outstanding talent – and it was no surprise to anybody that he would be drafted

For the past few years, the MAS has met up with a group of three others at Broadbeach on the Gold Coast to enjoy the Blues on Broadbeach Music Festival. The four of us go back about 40 years – we all attended University (or Teacher’s College as it was then) together in Ballarat, after attending the same secondary school. With a shared background in education, it’s interesting to note that only one of us now works in the classroom. As the resident Queenslander, my task each year is to book suitable accommodation, recommend some places to eat, and provide the airport pickups. The first pickup this year was at Brisbane International as B flew in from Indonesia for the weekend. The weather was pretty ordinary as we rolled down the M1, and we had a catch-up conversation. At one point my friend said that while he knew the rest of us were really into the music part of the weekend, he was there for the social side of it – seeing again his three best friends. I will return to this in a m