So here I was, last game at the old stadium and feeling a bit nostalgic. Had a good pre-game feed at the Lebanese place on the corner, the wife was in good spirits and we both thought Parra would win well for us all. We were looking forward to the game.
We settled in to our seats in the Cronin Stand, nodded hello to the other members who have shared the highs and lows at the stadium with us this year.
Now, anyone who sits in or near the Cronin Stand will know that voice that comes down from the cheap seats up the back. You know, the one that yells out TACKLE PARRA TACKLE on EVERY tackle on EVERY defensive set, then switches to GO PARRA GO on EVERY play on EVERY attacking set at every game.
I have heard him from a distance in the past. Well tonight, he came and plonked down next to me. Yep. Next seat. Started from kick off. TACKLE PARRA TACKLE. It was loud and it was in my ear. It was unrelenting.
It was obvious the voice belonged to a bloke who (a) lived for his footy, (b) got a sense of belonging from being a Parra supporter and (c) wasn't blessed with many sharp tools in the toolbox. In fact probably missed the day altogether that tools were handed out.
What to do? People seated nearby would look around, hunch their shoulders then turn back to the game, trying to ignore the incessant repetition blaring at close range. Most gave up trying to talk to those nearby. Some would scowl, others would shrug but every one wished that it would stop. It was ruining the game atmosphere.
What to do? In the evil recesses of my mind I imagined unsheaving my hidden dirk and quietly slipping it between his 10th and 11th ribs and twisting it in his spleen until the noise stopped and he slumped lifeless in his seat. My better angels told me he had the right to be there and to shout as much as he liked. My kinder side said just put up with it (impossible) while my rational side gently asked him to check he was sitting in the right seat. He rummaged in his bag and produced... the right ticket.
Just when I was about to either kill him or myself, a kindly lady two rows up tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to two miraculously empty seats up and across a little. Not so far away, but sound dissipates proportionate to the square of the radius, so it was bearable. I sheaved my imaginary dirk and slunk away.
What would you have done?
Replies
I would have sent the missus for a tray of beers and started yelling with him. TACKLE PARRA TACKLE! I reckon plenty of others would have joined in.
Pete your obviously a good bloke mate and are connected to your heart by the sounds of it, i like your style.
Having said that i would have followed him out of the stadium and bashed him for diminishing my experience.
Pete in all seriousness, you could have got a bit matey with him, a few nudges and winks, after he started carrying on i would have said, 'mate, look I've just had serious middle ear surgery, i nearly lost my hearing in an industrial accident, I'm just starting to get it back, and your shouting is causing a great deal of pain, any chance just for today you could turn it down mate, id hate to have to leave because of it''
Then if he says ''well you probably shouldn't have come to the footy then champ'', thats when you pull the shank out of your sock and go to town on him.
You'd probably have to leave soon after but at least you wont have to deal with it next season.
Joking of course.
-
1
-
2
-
3
-
4
-
5
of 7 Next