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Australian "Super Bowl"


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The following is a speech given right before the "Grand Final" which the Aussie Super Bowl for Australian Rules Football. I know much of the language will be tough to figure out, but you'll get the gist of it. This is exactly how I felt when I went to the super bowl in Atlanta (Bills vs. Drugboys), and saw the thousands of every-day fans who couldn't get a reasonably priced ticket to attend. I wonder how anyone would get away with a speech like this over here! :(

 

My fellow Australians,

 

I’ve been invited here to talk to Centre Square, in these big marquees on Punt Road Oval. And speaking of Punt Road Oval, let me tell you something for nothing - Jack Dyer would be spinning in his grave if he could see the place right now. Full of a bunch of Collins Street corporate criminals, Chapel Street designer cats and Toorak poodle rooters who have about as much interest in football as Paris Hilton has an interest in astrophysics.

 

Captain Blood didn’t break every bone in his body and commit multiple acts of on-field heroism and homicide so he could see his beloved home ground turned into an over-priced pre-match party for chardonnay-swilling spivs and their assorted hangers-on attending their one footy match of the year, whilst tens of thousands of hard-working honest battlers who love the game and love their team are denied the chance to attend the greatest game in the world.

 

I’ve had a gutful. Whilst this bunch of Armani-wearing, Audi-driving, Prada-carrying try-hards monopolise priceless vantage points in the MCG, millions of genuine footy fans who have followed their team through thick and thin have to make do by watching the game at home or down at the local pub, whilst the Melbourne spivocracy get to sit on their fat posteriors in a marquee and wouldn’t even know the way to the MCG without a tour guide.

 

Since most of you haven’t attended a single match this year and know nothing about football, let me give you a few tips – Geelong wears blue, Hawthorn wears brown, and in case you were wondering, there’ll be no fashions on the field at half-time, and no, the Lexus Centre across the road is not a prestige car dealership.

 

Centre Square is not only unfair. Centre Square is not only inequitable. Centre Square is downright un-Australian! And so are all of you! In fact, I bet you’re all so un-Australian that you all hate the Anzacs, you booed Cathy Freeman, and you want to cull cute cuddly koalas because one of them once jumped out in front of your Range Rover on the way to Mount Hotham.

 

But it’s not just you who are at fault. I also blame the AFL – those out-of-touch, opera-loving elitists at AFL headquarters who are responsible for this unconscionable abomination need to take a good hard look in the mirror. That is if they can handle the sight of moral and spiritual bankruptcy staring back at them.

 

I also blame the government. Our new Prime Minister has clearly failed his first test of leadership if he thinks it’s acceptable to allow an event like this to go ahead without a pre-emptive strike by the SAS. The PM is doing nothing to ease the squeeze on working families on the bottom rung of the ladder of opportunity who just want to see their team in the Granny. But he’d better get his act together and do something about it, or millions of angry footy fans will do it for him. Revolutions have been started and governments have been overthrown for lesser outrages than this. And people ask why we need capital punishment.

 

So cut off your silver tails, tear up your fur coats and get fair dinkum. Our great Australian game is the greatest game in the world – the game of the people. Not some once-a-year marquee piss-up for an overpaid, over-dressed pack of passionless corporate cretins who only turn up for the free chardonnay and then spend the actual game looking about as interested and excited as a line of Easter Island statues.

 

So don’t bother coming across to the MCG this afternoon, because you’re not welcome. The next train out of Melbourne leaves Richmond station in 10 minutes – so make sure you’re on it. Or, better still, under it.

 

So don’t be un-Australian - everyone here in Centre Square can get stuffed! You know it makes sense. I’m Sam Kekovich.

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The following is a speech given right before the "Grand Final" which the Aussie Super Bowl for Australian Rules Football. I know much of the language will be tough to figure out, but you'll get the gist of it. This is exactly how I felt when I went to the super bowl in Atlanta (Bills vs. Drugboys), and saw the thousands of every-day fans who couldn't get a reasonably priced ticket to attend. I wonder how anyone would get away with a speech like this over here! :(

 

My fellow Australians,...

 

:devil:

 

I'm a big fan of Australian humor prose. Everybody should read Henry Lawson's 1901 short story, The Loaded Dog. :thumbsup:

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I think most of us played something of an australian rules football growing up....-Those tackle football games at the park or in someones huge backyard. I would love to get into watching that sport. Too bad I am and most of us here are too old to play now(well without paying for it for the next 6 months).

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He really didn't -- here's the original: http://www.bigfooty.com/forum/showthread.php?t=498964 -- and that's too bad. The "speech" is both funny and damned appropriate.

 

Well...bloody hell. My brother played a dirty trick on me. Sent me the message and told me that this speech was actually given. Being an Aussie, I could believe that it would be true - people over there tend to tell it like it is and can be very un PC.

 

Toorak Poodle Rooters - It's been a zillion years since I lived in Melbourne, but I think that Toorak was an up-scale suburb Poodle you'd know and Root is another word for *&^%

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Well...bloody hell. My brother played a dirty trick on me. Sent me the message and told me that this speech was actually given. Being an Aussie, I could believe that it would be true - people over there tend to tell it like it is and can be very un PC.

Nah -- I'll guess that your brother received the e-mail from someone else, who got it from someone else ... There were even newspapers running the story.

 

And given this Kekovich's reputation, it would have been all too easy to believe. He sounds like your version of Don Cherry, and I bet he'd be great fun to hang out with at the local pub.

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