Wed, 21 Apr 2010 11:50a.m.
I don’t know why, but at this time of the year, and every year without fail, colleagues who are usually completely oblivious to any kind of sport whatsoever, suddenly become professionals on everything to do with rugby league.
Their eyes are wide with excitement, their hands flailing all over the place, as they recount how the Panthers closed in on the Raiders in the dying minutes, needing just one converted try to secure victory, only for some clumsy player to lose the ball forward and end all hopes of winning at home for the 17th time in a row and breaking some kind of record.
The enthusiasm is so intense that I almost expect said colleagues to launch out of their seats and tackle me to the ground, ripping my handbag from my clutches and sprinting Manu Vatuvai-esquely to the photocopier, diving across it, handbag outstretched, crashing down on the other side in victorious ecstasy, and crushing the entire contents of my bag in the process.
This year was no different. Hardcore enthusiasm. Water cooler conversation I knew nothing about. Questions, comments, general commentary on the game, followed by ignorant smiling and nodding and on-the-fence mmmms and ahhhhs from yours truly. Yeah, I totally know what you’re talking about, I think to myself as I grimly grip my handbag closer and slink back to my desk.
But then I made a discovery that changed my life. I suddenly realised why people cared so much about rugby league. It wasn’t that they had played when they were 15 and had amazing promise until a really unfortunate knee injury ruled them out forever. It also wasn’t that their uncle was Steve Price so they were obliged to be interested in the whole league thing. My colleagues’ fascination with everything to do with league revolved around just one thing: winning the Tipping Competition.
The Tipping Comp phenomenon: seems simple enough. Guess who’s going to win each game every week, and see who wins overall. Easy peasy. So I decided to join.
Most of the boys laughed at me when I said I was going to join their tipping comp.
“You don’t know anything about league, Erin,” they guffawed. “What are you going to base your tips on?”
“Well, I have a very strategic, ah, strategy, boys,” I replied. “Listen carefully. I am going to pick my tips based on Who Would Beat Who in the Wild.”
Cue slight pause. Cue quick sideways glance amongst each other. Cue simultaneous side-splitting, hunched over, back slapping laughter.
“Come on, guys, it’s not that funny. I just want to prove that you don’t need to know anything about league to win the tipping comp. It’s all based on luck anyway, so who says my completely uninformed guesses can’t count? Yeah. Exactly. Take that.”
I was a little late to the tipping comp, so I started in Week 4. As promised, I picked all my tips based on Who Would Beat Who in the Wild, with some minor exceptions:
Roosters would obviously beat Broncos because they can fly.
Sharks would obviously beat Eels because, well, they’re sharks.
Cowboys would obviously beat Titans because they have guns.
Panthers would obviously beat Knights because they’re camouflaged and sneaky.
Warriors would obviously beat Sea Eagles because I’ve got to be loyal. Someone’s got to be.
Storm would obviously beat Dragons because rain always puts out fires.
Tigers would obviously beat Raiders because orange and black go great together.
And Rabbitohs would obviously beat the Bulldogs because, well, I just like bunnies.
Erin’s score for Week 4? 7 out of 8. Yeah boi.
Week 5:
Dragons V Broncos? Dragons, because they breathe fire. Duh.
Bulldogs V Warriors? Warriors. They have spears and stuff.
Cowboys V Tigers? No question about it. Tigers. They’re my second favourite animal.
Sea Eagles V Sharks? Eagles, because they can fly.
Panthers V Roosters? Pretty self-explanatory, really.
Eels V Raiders? Eels, because they can slide away. (This explanation was quite weak, and proved to be my downfall.)
Titans V Storm? Storm, because Titans probably couldn’t see very well in storms, although, again, a fairly weak explanation.
And Rabbitohs V Knights? Rabbitohs, because I still like bunnies.
Erin’s score for Week 5? 6 out of 8. She’s on a roll.
Week 6, however, was a bad week. So bad, in fact, that I’m not even going to spell out my explanations, because virtually every single one of them turned out to be quite weak, and therefore contributed to my downfall.
Erin’s score for Week 6? *cough* 1 out of 8. Gutted.
My overall score at the moment is 24. I am in two different tipping competitions: the winner of one is at 29 and the winner of the other is at 28 (both of whom, may I add, are women), so I’m not too far behind. I have still got time to save face, so here’s hoping this weekend brings me Who Would Beat Who in the Wild joy.
Grrrr. (That was a Tiger.)
What I’m reading: Julian Corkle is a Filthy Liar by DJ Connell. Laugh out loud reading.
What I’m watching: Date Night. Funny, but, to be honest, I was expecting it to be funnier.
What I’m looking forward to: Finding a job. Redundancy is no fun.
What I’m dreading: Not finding a job. Redundancy is no fun.
What’s made me happy this week: My beautiful Karen Walker necklace, given to me by my colleagues on my last day at work.
What’s really annoyed me this week: The ever-increasing price of petrol. When will it stop?!
Tipping Score: 24.