Why we do what we do
"I've never found football fun. Pressure? Yes. Hard work? Definitely. Fun? Never." - Leigh Matthews
I first read this quote as a teenager; completely enamored with the game I couldn’t understand what the ‘Player of the Century’ meant.
Back then playing footy was the most important thing to me in life. The thrill of a narrow win, taking a big mark or kicking a goal evoked feelings that couldn’t be matched in any other area of life. Above all else football was fun.
Some 10 years on I now better understand the feelings behind Lethal’s words.
It takes a special type of person to survive life in the AFL furnace, while some thrive; others are left completely physically and mentally broken. The pressure, the scrutiny, the injuries and the intensity required; have the potential to suck the life out of even the biggest footy head. When there is no much riding on every kick, handball or mark, you can understand why players struggle to find the game ‘fun’.
For those who cannot yield enjoyment from playing the game itself, there are certainly great rewards on offer for those who can meet the demands of the job. There is a fortune to be made on and off the field, the players are presented with great opportunities, afforded enormous respect, experience notoriety and live an amazing lifestyle.
However, If there was no money, no crowds and no fame to be gained, what would be in the game for those who find no fun?
This is the deal local footballers and specifically amateur footballers sign up for each year. There is no money, no crowds or elite training facilities, the pressure to perform remains, the risk of injury is no less and on Monday morning no one really cares if you have had 40 possessions or kicked a bag on the weekend.
There comes a time in an amateur footballer’s career when they must ask themselves, why am I still doing this? Playing the game is no longer fun, training is a chore and the body is ailing; it takes until Tuesday until your walking with any fluency again.
The time of reckoning comes in your mid twenties when life is becoming a little more serious and other things such as a career, marriage, travel, family and health assume greater importance. These feelings cause many to walk away from the game and into the local golf club on a Saturday. For those who stick around, why do they?
If your not asking yourself this question then society will be. Take note of the look the boss gives you when walk into work on Monday with a black eye. The look from your girlfriend when you can’t attend her BFF’s birthday dinner on a Thursday night, or how disinterested the nerdy work colleague is with your answer after they ask you what you did on the weekend. It’s a look of bewilderment with an element of pity and generally a patronising reaction entails. Ultimately they can’t understand why you would persist to put yourself through the process year after year.
The answer is one of spirituality rather than anything tangible like dollars and to most it will never make sense.
Stand around the huddle of any amateur game on a Saturday and you will hear the same phrases echo around the ground.
“Take pride in the jumper”
“Do it for the club”
“Do it for (insert club legends name)”.
For me, none of these hold any relevance; the old adage of doing the jumper proud, representing the club with distinction or settling old scores holds no currency.
My football club is predominantly comprised of school alumni, yet some of the most passionate and driven players we’ve had pull on the jumper arrived at the club without any connection to the school tie. I certainly don’t crack-in any harder playing against a side who knocked us out of B-grade 20 years ago.
Nor can you fully commit to a season if your motivation lies in doing it for someone else. Churning through a hot, tortuous pre-season, putting yourself through the brutality of a game and attending training on those freezing, winter nights can only be done if the motivation comes purely from within.
For those who have grown up playing football, the game becomes an inherent part of who you are. It’s what you identify with and it’s been integral to developing you as a person, unless there is another avenue that can provide the same highs and the same lows to fill the void, a feeling of emptiness can inhabit you.
There is an internal pressure to continue to achieve things on the football field like you always have, the fear of failing is such a strong driver and when the finish line becomes imminent an insecurity develops, making you question whether you achieved all you set out too. The only way to put that insecurity to bed is to persist and achieve all you can.
The human spirit yearns to be a part of something bigger than oneself and footy clubs provide that to so many people around the country. With the amount of blood, sweat and tears invested in a football season the relationships that are formed within the walls of a football club provide people with a sense of unity and a belonging that is difficult to replicate.
Life can become serious and regimented, playing football offers an escape from work or family-life and presents an opportunity to release the emotional energy accumulated throughout the week. The mate-ship and camaraderie built through training, playing and social events builds a staunch support network.
Success is what motivates most people and playing in a premiership is what keeps guys returning year after year. The footballers that are willing to stick around and continue to dedicate themselves, despite all the challenges, are those who are driven and motivated by winning. Achieving success with a group of people is the fundamental ultimate that playing any team sport can provide. This success is not about individual glory; it’s about forming memories that will bond a group of people together for a lifetime.
The reality is that many won’t achieve premiership glory, what guys take away from the game are the relationships they make in football. Like any relationship, these unions are solidified by respect. Respect earned on the football field. That’s what is drives searching pre-seasons, inspires gut running in the final quarter and convinces you go back with the flight of the ball. It’s got nothing to do with the history of the jumper; it’s about earning the respect of your mates and it comes from within.
In reflecting on Leigh Matthews’ words 10 years later I am yet to decided whether I’ve become jaded by the game or become at peace with it. Is football fun? No. Hard work? Yes. Rewarding? Absolutely. Can I walk away? Never.
Adam Baldwin is an RMIT journalism student and plays football for Old Ivanhoe in the VAFA. Agree? Disagree? Let him know @adamwbaldwin
Comments
Jeff Dowsing 12 September 2012
Great thought provoking article Adam. The last 'proper' game I played I badly busted several ribs and hurt my knee in the same collision. It was enough for me to question how fun or rewarding playing suburban thug league was. Part of me still regrets giving it away so early in my early/mid 20's, another part of me is grateful my body has no lasting effects from any more serious injuries I could have incurred. A lot of ex VFL/AFL players end up in a very bad way by their 40's - it would be interesting what % think it was worth it, especially those who played before the decent money rolled in.
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