When I read that Helen Garner, one of my favorite writers, had written a book describing the season of Australian Rules Football for under 16s that her grandson was playing, I knew I had a treat in store. One day she saw her youngest grandson with a football and realized he was almost six feet tall. She asked Ambrose (called Amby) if she could come to his practices. She explained to Amby she had no work, was burned out and needed something to write about. Amby and the coach were fine with it and when she asked the coach whether the team members needed to be asked, he explained, “Helen, they are 15. They are boys. They won’t care. And five minutes later they will have forgotten you were even there.”
Though Garner is a long time fan of footy, she confesses she doesn’t understand the rules and is too embarrassed to ask Amby certain questions. Footy is not like football or soccer, it looks like nothing else. They use a leather football which they kick on the run and when they run, they must bounce the ball every 16 yards. The rules say they cannot pass, but if you watch highlights of games, you see the ball go from the hands from one to the hands of another, which in my book is passing. The field is oval shaped and there are four goalposts. Players with the ball can be tackled and must get rid of the ball quickly. There is also “shepherding” which is bumping another player which can be done if they are within five feet of the ball. The best part is the umpire’s signal of a successful goal: both arms with first finger extended going from bent to straight out while the elbows are at their sides. Here’s a fun YouTube of the action.
Helen, who lives next door to her daughter and her family, explains this about her three grandchildren:
The girl and I understood each other at first glance, but having never raised a son, I now began to learn about boys and men from a fresh angle, to see their delicacy, their fragility, what they are obliged to do to themselves in order to live in this world, the codes of behavior they’ve had to develop in order to discipline and sublimate their drive to violence.
Amby’s older brother talks about loving to tackle when playing footy: he found it to be the most cathartic part of the game, much better than kicking goals. Amby adds, “Especially when you hurt a guy but without actually injuring him. You hear him groan, but then he gets up and he’s alright.”
Garner wanted to be a fair witness to the season, but of course she was a fan, and was thrilled when she was allowed to pass out orange slices to the team members. Her observation of herself and her struggles with her aging body and brain, and her loving connection to her extended family made this great read. I didn’t always understand what she said and certainly the references to teams other than her grandson’s meant nothing to me. More than once she mentioned among her various household chores, care for her “chooks,” or as we call them, chickens.
She tells an anecdote about coming upon Amby at home looking moony and he said he had watched a movie that made him think of sad things, like how it is people want to be remembered. She recounts to him that she had just been reading Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles and was in tears because Achilles’ mother wouldn’t allow his lover Patroclus’ name to be on Achilles’ tombstone. I appreciated reading her emotional reaction to a book I read in March that was recommended by Cathy. Having this unexpected connection was a thrill.
Helen Garner, The Season, Pantheon Books, 2025, 208 pages (I listened to the audiobook). The local library is in process of making this available (there is an incomplete catalog entry).