As a longtime sports fan, I have a well-worn ritual of dealing with stressful games.
It involves a lot of pacing, a lot of screaming and not insignificant amounts of clutching onto my dog’s fur in exasperation.
Sometimes I iron, or fold linen. When it becomes too much to bear, I give up on the idea of sitting in chairs entirely and crouch by the television in a yoga-like pose, inches from the screen, basically unaware of my surroundings.
With the Matildas (now utterly, if they weren’t already, beloved nationwide) poised to enter a quarter-final against France, many Australians who have become indoctrinated fanatics may be new to the equal parts exhilarating and excruciating experience that is loving a team.
I wouldn’t argue I practise the best methods but I’ve found it’s better to just let it all hang out.
Probably one of my most unhinged and irritating (for my housemates) coping techniques is my penchant for decorating the entirety of our house’s outdoor exterior in my team’s colours whether this be AFL, Socceroos, Matildas, or, for a brief period of time (that one week I got into rugby), the Rabbitohs.
This World Cup, I confused passersby by hand-painting three A4 pieces of paper with the words “GO T HET ILLIES”, and a fourth piece of paper which simply read “GO GALS” next to a badly painted soccer ball.
Twitter - has anyone else decorated their homes for the world cup? Every time I come home I laugh at how bad my hand painted signs are but surely they can't be our nation's only representation (GO T HET ILLIES) pic.twitter.com/Rj9GX0GaF7
— Caitlin Cassidy (@caitecassidy) August 1, 2023
I also bought yellow and a blueish-green set of streamers (the green ones were sold out) and draped them over our fence alongside golden bunting, which flaps quite nicely in the wind.
Some neighbours have enjoyed it, inquiring “What are you going to do if they make it to the final?” while others give me a confused look.
I feel like it’s important to build community solidarity during times like this and, as such, was surprised when I arrived at work before the Denmark game and found I was the only one in a Matildas scarf, with a statement green coat and my cheeks painted yellow and green.
I told many people in the office that I’d brought in some face paint if anyone was so inclined and was met with looks like I was legitimately insane.
Still, knowing you’re not the only one caught up in the fever helps.
We hate it while we’re experiencing it but I really think these are the moments that are what makes being a sports fan so exciting.
I can’t remember a time outside sport that I’ve been so utterly engaged in something that I cannot sit in a chair.
Or a time I’ve been so overwhelmed by excitement and some strange sense of solidarity I lose the ability to text anything other than “OH MY GOD” and “HOLY SHIT” and “SIUUU”.
So my advice?
Lose yourself in the delirium that is sport. Promise the world you’ll paint your body yellow if your team wins, as I did, stupidly, on social media.
Book in that tattoo. Buy some bunting. To be a sporting fan is to accept that, probably, for a large percentage of the time, you will lose. And it will be heartbreaking.
You will rue the day you believed that maybe, just maybe, your team could win this thing. But the highs?
Seeing babies in prams at fan sites, and young girls and boys holding hand-painted signs bearing “Go Matildas” riddled with spelling mistakes, and strangers clutching strangers in exhalation … not to be a cliche, but that is the real win.
Remember that, when we comfortably march into the semis on Saturday. Sporting moments like this don’t come often.
