Punting on ignorance

By Sheryl-Lee Kerr

slkx@hotmail.com

 

 

FOOTBALLER is a word which comes from the Latin Footibias (with the

feet) and bali (a tropical holiday destination). Put together, it

means literally “Using one's feet to make retirement plans for

tropical holiday destinations”. Or else “lucky bastards”.

 

I mention this informative piece of knowledge now because at this

very moment, in offices throughout the land, a select few people are

crowing about being in the top placings in their footy tips

competition. I have only one thing to say about such annoying,

big-headed people: “Champers, anyone?”

 

Yes indeedy moi, the football village idiot, has just shamed an

office full of so-called expert punters whose calculations are so complex

that if they'd just factor in the square root they'd have built the

first fully automatic three-legged dog.

And they still can't win a round.

 

I'll type faster here because if looks could kill, I think I have

about three minutes left of breathable oxygen.

 

After my taunts in recent years about trained monkeys having more ability

than the footy tipsters, I was, er, strongly urged to plonk the

moolah where the mouth was this year. My subsequent dash from last into

second place was not without a carefully thought-out game plan.

 

I reproduce it here so others may benefit from my success next year:

 

1. I would pick no team beginning with the letter C. (I don't even

remember the reason for this, but it made perfect sense at the

time.) The Crows, incidentally, begin with the letter A. Obviously.

 

2. I would adopt the highly scientific approach of choosing the team

of whichever coach looked most earnest after the previous game. This

made it exceptionally difficult when tipping in Adelaide Crows games

as Malcolm Blight's expression has yet to change.

 

3. I would never change my tips once submitted, even if I had, for

instance, accidentally written Freo to beat the Broncos by two

touchdowns.

 

4. The big rule of thumb is not to take the game seriously. Once you

start thinking about it and expending any more effort on choosing

teams than “heads Geelong, tails St Kilda”, you become a real

tipster and are destined for the curse of knowing too much.

 

5. You must prove your footy irreverence regularly by, say, getting a

friend to ask her psychic which teams will win one week. (Got seven

out of eight right that time.)

 

And, finally, never let an opportunity for gloating pass you by. As

you may never get it again, seize the day. Revel in it. Feel free to

compare your limited footy knowledge with that of the office footy

know-it-all.

 

And, last but not least, take out a good private health

insurance policy.

 

Well that's it. All I can say to my mournful compatriots today is:

thanks, and the tips cash should indeed, as the word suggests, go

towards a nice Bali holiday.

 

© Sheryl-Lee Kerr & The Advertiser, 31 AUG 1999