Robert Murphy - Romance of the little league

Murph's article this week...

Romance of the little league
The Age
Robert Murphy | April 2, 2008

MY NAME is Robert Murphy and I’m addicted to romantic comedy movies. Boy oh boy, it feels good to finally say it out loud!
I’ve been watching movies like Notting Hill and When Harry Met Sally for quite a few years now (away from the prying eyes of family and friends, of course, for fear of being cast out as a pansy). They have been my guilty pleasure.

The best way I can describe how much the addiction has taken hold is to tell you this: if Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan ever decide to saddle up again and do a sequel to You’ve Got Mail, I’d sleep out on the pavement to get the best seats. I know I’ve got issues, but at least I’m prepared to tackle them head on.

People, this little admission is a look into the deepest and darkest recesses of my soul, and over the next few paragraphs I will try to explain what relevance it has to the state of footy at the moment.

One of my all-time favourite rom coms is the hugely popular (with housewives everywhere) Love Actually.

In the opening scenes, the narrator (Hugh Grant, of course) talks about the perception that the world is a hard, cynical place, a place where romance, compassion and love can be lost amid the evils of the big, bad corporate world.

Hugh goes on to say that, whenever he hears such doom and gloom, he casts his mind to the departure gates of Heathrow airport, and all he sees is warm hugs and tears of loving affection. A love that is reserved for those closest to us.

As the rain flickered against my lounge room window on Sunday night, while my little family was huddled up watching Love Actually (again), it struck me how these same feelings can cross over to our great game.

After last week’s rant about the liberties of players, and another weekend of radio talkback complaining about umpiring decisions, on top of more television reporting on the politics of the game, it’s easy to slip into a mood of doom and gloom, fearful that all the great things about our game are being lost.

Of course this isn’t true, and thankfully our game has so many gems to cherish, it’s just a matter of keeping sight of them through the haze of negativity.

Grant’s character talks of Heathrow’s departure lounge in such glowing terms, it got me thinking about what, in football terms, is my Heathrow?

After only a few seconds squinting through the haze I saw lots of little people running around, and a smile ran across my face. The little league!

If ever I feel myself going down doom and gloom road, all I need do is think about the kiddies running around at half-time, with nothing more on their minds than getting the ball and kicking it to their mates.

If ever we needed a model of how the game should be played and ruled, it comes from this bunch of boys and girls.

They play with unbridled spirit. There is a distinct lack of emphasis on rules or tribunals as such, rather there is a governing body of helpful parents who are more interested in the ethics of fair play than how each boy and girl plays. The result is a harmonious spectacle.

As a wee lad growing up, I was lucky enough to play in the little league. A few memories from this day have not been dimmed one bit with time.

After our mini-bus made the relatively short trip from Warragul to Waverley Park, I will never forget the feeling of running up the race and out onto the field in front of so many people.

The other, more embarrassing, memory from my big day in the little league is that I was playing for Hawthorn. Despite my loyalty to the Tigers at that time, I still endeavoured to wear the fetching combination of brown and gold with pride.

The main game that day was between the Hawks and Adelaide, so naturally the little league was contested by the same teams. Little kids have a funny little take on the world; not ones for the finer details on life, are they? Well I certainly wasn’t.

You see, I spent most of the game in a state of deep intrigue . . . I couldn’t believe these other kids had come all the way from Adelaide to play a 10-minute game! My mum certainly wouldn’t have let me fly over there to play!

It’s a shame such wide-eyed wonder can be lost in the big, bad, grown-up world.

In a week where it has been impossible not to be confronted by the Wayne Carey saga, we have received another reminder of just how much the adult we become is shaped by the child we are loved and encouraged to be.

As the rain falls this weekend and you stand in the outer at half-time with your hot pie and Footy Record, take a couple of minutes to watch the little league kids go about their stuff.

It will be plain for you to see that the game is in great shape — as long as the kids are all right.

I gota admit i usually stay in my seat and watch the little league, its good fun, then give em a hi5 as they run past.

Geez Bobby Murphy writes well.

When Harry Met Sally! I always knew Murph was a soulmate.

If AFL falls through he can write bestsellers.

Hooray!


My son played mini league at half time of the Nab cup grand final AND at half time of the Geelong vs Port game a few weeks ago.


I think the parents get a bigger buzz then the kids!

I remember playing for Essendon against Brisbane.....it was hailing and the lights were on...at 3pm!
Was heaps of fun but as you said - I think my parents (and uncle and aunties) got a bigger buzz!!

If only my snap shot didn't hit the post!!

Murph's metaphors and analogies are nuts :confused:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by minson27

I gota admit i usually stay in my seat and watch the little league,

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Well i gotta admit i didnt do that tonight, i had way way way to much energy(anger and happyness) to sit there and watch them, i had to walk around the whole ground, felt much better when i got back.