Like every other Queenslander, I would like to talk about our sporting achievements of the past couple of weeks. I say “our” sporting achievements because as a big fan of the Lions and an even bigger fan of the Broncos, their recent premiership successes are partially thanks to me.
Sure, I might not play, I might not coach, I might not be involved whatsoever at all in any single way – but I still feel entitled to some credit. Since I was little, I have supported the Brisbane Broncos. For decades I have watched the games, pouring my precious and powerful energy into them. I have cheered their wins, been sad at their losses, and decried and abused countless referees with terrible decision-making skills and presumably personal vendettas against me.
This is what sport support is all about. If you love a club and you’re invested in its success, each season is an emotional rollercoaster – complete with the risk of vomiting. Whether from stress, joy or too many beers, who’s to say? Some people, those non-sport watchers out there, might find these very real emotions hard to understand. Some of them might find it hard to empathise with what you are going through.
And sometimes you might be in a relationship with one of them.
I have been with my girlfriend for about five and a half years. About five and a half years of that has involved me watching some variety of sport most weekends, and only relatively recently has she finally learned which Brisbane team goes with which sport.
She is not an obnoxious “ew, sportsball” person. She is lovely and compassionate. However, during certain times, such as the NRL finals season, she is slightly lacking in what I have termed “sports empathy”. This is different from normal empathy – she is very encouraging of my interests, wants me to be happy and even hopes my team will win. She is simply unable to fully grasp the huge emotions I feel when I watch sport. She does not speak the language.
My girlfriend is supportive as a partner, but baffled as a human. She can’t fully understand my sporting woes and joys because she has never felt fully emotionally connected to a sports team. She has never felt the intense rush of a last-minute try or the devastation of a last-second penalty.
Last Sunday she had nearly lost all ability to listen to me talk about that evening’s grand final by approximately 10.30am. Her eyes glazed over as she tried, again, to soothe my nerves. By 11am she was simply not responding. (She would like me to add here that I had been speaking at length on the subject for over a week – which I think only further proves her lack of sports empathy.)
It’s very difficult to explain your sports feelings to someone if they don’t understand the base level appeal. It’s like explaining salt to someone who has never had food. Recently I tried asking her to imagine her favourite pen brands battling it out in an arena, but for some reason that didn’t do the trick.
Following sport was basically chosen for me – it was the soundtrack to my childhood. There was always cricket or football on the television and my dad would also listen to sport on the radio (as well as Roy and HG, of course). I have three brothers (two of whom became professional boxers) and we spent a lot of time as kids playing cricket and football, and a game called “brandy” that I’m not sure is legal any more as it basically involves just throwing a tennis ball as hard as you possibly can at another child. Sports emotion is the basis of a lot of connection and communication in our family and community.
Luckily, I have people to turn to when my girlfriend has forsaken me and I need comrades in arms: my family and also my NRL group chat with a bunch of straight men. These men are way more dramatic than I am, so I also get to feel superior about my self-control.
Both my girlfriend and I are thrilled that Queensland teams keep winning – I because I love them, she because she loves me. Unfortunately for her, and something she definitely won’t know until she reads this article, the Lions are still a chance to make the finals in the AFLW, and my beloved Brisbane Roar are about to begin a new A-Leagues season. My demands for her empathy will continue to grow. She’ll be by my side for the whole thing – she’ll just be reading a book and trying to ignore my impassioned screams.
• Rebecca Shaw is a writer based in Sydney
