The Fever

My young friend Ruby walked up the hill as I was going back down this morning, on her way to catch the school bus. Her school bag was slung over her shoulder and her strong legs worked under her summer school dress. She leaned forward into the hill, her gait identifying her to me at a distance. She raised her head and smiled as she neared, offering her girlish "Hello." I could see she was carrying something in her right hand, rolled up, looked like flag on a stick.
"Nice morning Ruby. "What's that your carrying, a flag, do you have school sports or something today?"
By this time we'd passed and both looked back to each other. "No, I'm going to the footy after school."
"Good on you. Who do you follow?"
"Richmond." Excitement beamed from her face.
"I'm a Demon fan myself but I'll be watching tonight. Your playing the Saints, yeah?"
"Yeah."
Footy's back. The Tiges have been down a long time and I'll be barracking for them tonight. For Ruby. And for Clappo's daughter, who has recovered from leukemia and is a passionate Richmond fan. Clappo, never into football previously, tells me about Kate who goes to all the Richmond games night or day, and her analysis of what the coach says and game plans etc.
I'll put a few dollars on it, there's a small credit in my Lasseters account, thanks to Maxine McKew. I'll put a few on the Demons to knock off Geelong tomorrow too. They'll be cocky, having won the the big one last year, after a forty four year premiership drought. My friend Nicky, otherwise a sane person, had a 'Weg' Premiers tattoo put on her back recently to mark her 60th birthday. That's worse than my mate Rick, who had 'CATS' shaved into the back of his head in the week before the grand final last year. Footy fever!