Country Football in Winter – A Muddy Boots Experience

Recently, I travelled with three mates to Albury, NSW, to experience one of those great Australian traditions – country football.  In this case, Rugby League.  We paid our $10 each to get into Greenfield Park to watch the Albury Thunder take on the Junee Diesels in the Group 9 competition, which covers a massive area of south-central NSW.  For this game, the Diesels had travelled by bus for 180km for the privilege of risking concussion, soft tissue injuries and broken bones.  For the Thunder, in the far south of the district, away games can take a 3-4 hour drive each way.

I spent some time chatting with Rick, the club president who was also ground manager for the day.  He gave some insights into the state of local game.  Teams like Albury and Junee can’t pay their players a lot.  The best players might get $800 per game; most are playing for pocket money.  This is in contrast with the country leagues closer to Sydney and Brisbane, which can attract marquee players (typically ex-NRL players) and pay them upwards of $100,000 for a season.   On the brighter side, the NRL and state government provide buses on game days, and the Thunder gets some support from the Melbourne Storm NRL club.

It is an all-day carnival, starting with a women’s game from 10.30am.  After that there is the Under-18s, then the Reserve grade, and First grade commences at 2.30.  It’s all over by 4.30 as the winter sun dips and the chill sets in.  The final whistle blows, and it is off to the club room, thence to various pubs and clubs in town.  Or back on the bus.

Compared to a big stadium, country football is highly tactile for the spectator, due to the proximity to the action.  You experience the game with all senses.  The bodies colliding, the grunts and cusses of the players, the pierce of the referee’s whistle.  Wet grass and mud churned to smell like a barnyard – four games in a day takes its toll on the turf.

And the taste – steak sandwiches, meat pies and Carlton Draught from a can.  No fancy stuff, and very Australian.  The sense of touch is felt through the chill wind; thankfully everything else is vicarious…I winced at some of the hard hits and found it hard to believe I used to do this in my younger years.

And of course there are the local legends and characters.  The team strapper whose glory days in the Reserves were in the 1980s.  The real estate agent handing out business cards and brochures.  And the gallery of beer-swillers who each know more about what is going on than the referees, coaches and team doctors – and express their superior insights loudly.

The sports clubs are community anchors in country towns.  As well as a rallying point for families and friends, they provide coaching clinics and financial support for school and junior teams, and often do behind the scenes work with disadvantaged youth.  They raise money any way they can – local sponsorships, grants from the national league, and of course food and drink sales.  And there are the raffles.  Always the raffles.  At Greenfield Park we were accosted in the traditional manner to buy tickets for prizes including meat trays, lotteries and locally-sourced produce.  But they also had a super-raffle.  For $150 per ticket you would go into a pool of 700 hopeful punters to win a brand-new excavator.

If you have never experienced country football, you should – even if you are not a fan of the game.  It is a great day out, you meet friendly people and can learn a lot.  And stay overnight if you can, like we did.  You will find welcoming pubs, bars and restaurants.  And the town probably needs your dollars.

Oh, and the score? After winning the women’s, Under 18s and Reserves, the Thunder First grade went down by 20 points to 14. So the Diesels had something to celebrate on the long ride home.

This story is part of our Travel Writing and Reflection series.