A game of football is a lot like a piece of writing. It’s almost the end of term so I need to be thinking of these things.
I was subject to a workshop of my major piece for the term in class a couple of weeks ago – a 4000 word (or thereabouts) short story. I was commended on my writing: exquisite on the sentence level, phrasing, rhythm, imagery.
‘I just don’t have a sense of story or character,’ said my tutor.
Hmm.
To soothe the blow, he added: ‘You learn different things at different times and you don’t always have them working at the same time. You may have the atmosphere and the place and your imagery just right, but your point-of-view is out so your characterisations suffer. You may have your characters and plot going but your phrasing needs sharpening up.’
It struck me that Thursday, that it’s truly hard to get everything going at once and yet it’s the quest every writer is on. And then it struck me, as it often does, that it’s the same in footy as in life. As his players wait for the toss of the coin, oiled up and matched up, a coach in the box must look at his men and wonder which parts are going to work, whether by some magic, it will all fall into place. How many times have we heard coaches mention ‘luck’ with victories?
Take the Cats v Collingwood two weeks ago week. The Cats had all the forward movement, the speed, the pressure, the structure. They just couldn’t kick a goal. Or Buddy in Sydney. He had top class delivery v the Swans, coast to coast footy. But it was 6 behinds before he started kicking goals. Yes, we all know how that story went.
Sometimes, the atmosphere can be a bit second rate, the characters are dimly defined, the setting is far from captivating. But the plot points are so well positioned and the pace so sharp that the rest is entirely forgiven. The Swans do it best, holding off, holding off, holding off for the ending. If the Swans were a genre, they’d be the thriller for sure.
Sometimes, the characters are well positioned, the conflict artfully set up – Gaz versus the old team. And the location is well defined and loaded with meaning – the new Metricon Stadium. And the story begins really well. It promises and promises. By halfway, it’s all set up. But then the pace goes skew and the ending bolts for home. No doubt the Doggies know this particular difficulty too. Capitulation fiction. There, I invented a new genre.
Sometimes the characterisation is so milky that the reader ends up sympathising with the wrong bloke and it throws the moral of the story completely. Think of Jason Blake’s knee collecting Sean Dempster’s head this Saturday night past. The focalisation seemed to be with the unconscious/concussed Dempster, hospitalised and in doubt to fly home to Melbourne. But before the weekend was out, it was the Blake knee which had come off worse for wear and pulled focus completely.
Yes, the quest for that one missing element is the journey. Brisbane seem to be on top of it. It’s name is Jonathan Brown. (Do you think I could get Brownie into my story?)
Mostly writing a good story is about writing about what we all know, but doing it a little differently, making us see what we know in a new light. Bertolt Brecht used foreign settings in his plays to help audiences look on them differently, from a distance, not to convince them that they were there, quite the opposite – ‘you ain’t there, but your problems are.’
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Last Saturday night, I had the downright unexpected pleasure of listening to the Dreamtime at the G on the National Indigenous Radio Service through AFL.com. What a narrative journey that was. None of the premeditated polish of the full-time and finely tuned commentators of the ABC. None of the commercial nonsense of Triple M or 3AW.
On the National Indigenous Radio Service (NIRS), the listeners are still referred to as Ladies and Gentlemen. On the NIRS, the game and the ball are referred to as she: ‘She’s all locked away.’ ‘She’s a tough line ball.’ ‘In she comes just outside forward 50.’ The AFL is always banging on about being inclusive to women. Well I’ve finally found some fellas who truly are. And boy, it’s nice to feel included in the game.
On the NIRS, a hit is a ‘pow’ rather than a bump. A poor handball is ‘a bit fance for him’. A loose ball goes ‘where angels fear to tread’. A fumble is ‘dropping an absolute soda pop.’
Caller Andrew Underwood is ‘Undies.’ and the commentary is handed over on air, out loud. ‘Undies you can have a crack.’ None of this seamless transition from one caller to the other. No it’s self-reflexive meta commentary on the NIRS.
Zaharakis is Zakarakis. (It reminded me of Ruby Hunter (bless her soul), who referred to Paul Grabowsky as Mr Gregowski, when Patrick was working with them both. Paul even preferred the name himself after a while.) Dustin Fletcher is ‘old father time.’
When the update man brings in the scores from the GABBA at half time, ‘He’s all over it like a fat kid on a chocky biscuit.’ Now you don’t hear that on the ABC. And in the thick of play, special comments Rockin’ Ronnie Burns commends a Bomber on his play: ‘Hurley was right up his ginger and that’s where you need to be’.
The callers discussed the loss of Lionel Rose and Bob Davis during the main break. And as the warning siren sounded, they concluded: ‘We’ve all got to go sometime or other and this game’s gotta go either way.’ Was there ever a better segue?
And when news came in that the Lions had romped it home in Brissy for the first win of the season, one of the fellas confessed: ‘My wife will be howling. She loves the Kangaroos. Her three brothers played there, her father played there. But .. tough titties. The Lions have the chocolates.’ And back at the G, they even collectively joined in for the ‘yellow and black’ riff in the Tigers victory song. On air and proud.
I haven’t sat and listened with such intent for a very long time.
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So it’s back to the Word docs. To the point-of-view and the lifting of the subtext into view. Hopefully you’re beginning to see some narrative threads in this season. And there’s more on offer this week. Pies v Saints: the Sequel (or is it Part 3?); Bulldogs: the Last Stand; Port: the Return. Just be wary of decoys.
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