Monday, 14 July 2014

My fingers are crossed and I can't look!

Well I thought I was being clever last week - I headed off to the Flinders Ranges (more on that later!) and thought I had set this post to automatically send off to you as 'usual'. Oh woe is me. It didn't go! So although it is a bit out of date (I have briefly updated it) I am sending it in the usual manner. So fingers crossed (!) you get it this time

Do you have any superstitious foibles regarding trying to get your team over the line with a win? I certainly do! And with Wimbledon in full swing (pity about our new 19 year old 'sensation' Nick Kyrgios not making it further than the 4th round - but what a match!) the World Cup nearing its conclusion (well now concluded - the Germans won - again - and annihilated their Brazilian hosts en route) the Tour de France on the way and of course our dear old AFL footy (Go Cats!) just to name a few!
Eyes closed and fingers crossed - makes all the difference (I know!)
I was reflecting on the ridiculous lengths that I have been known to go to try and get a win for others (not me!) I recall a number of years ago watching Pat Rafter sadly lose the Wimbledon final. I was beside myself! It seemed that every time I left the room he won a point. So there I was in the early hours of the morning standing shivering in the hallway listening to the ball being hit on the television and waiting for the roar if he won a point (he seemed to be the favourite!) The result was that I missed a magnificent match, I was cold, out of bed and he lost anyway! 
After 5 sets our Pat had the charm to congratulate his mate Goran Ivanisevic (while I shed a tear!)
The same happens if I'm at home watching my beloved Cats footy team. They almost lost the other night (they scraped across the line as they are so often wont to do) and I spent most of my time with my finger on the remote control flicking to other programmes. My thumb was numb by the end of the match - with the net result being that I missed much of an exciting match. 

Of course yelling for Cadel from the comfort of my bed the year he won the Tour de France (2011) made all the difference to him 40,000 miles away!! I'm sure he heard me though! I'm confident that my 'instructions' was the reason he broke Andy Schleck on that final ride.(Go Richie Porte this year - even if he is riding for Sky and not GreenEdge)
Of course I yelled for Cadel and yelled to Cadel
Isn't this seriously pathetic!?! But I'm sure I'm not the only one. Come on admit you do it too!

The father of Nick Kyrgios keeps wearing his Akubra hat and the same white shirt (washed nightly I hasten to add!) while sitting in the crowd. His mother stays at home too nervous to watch, going to bed with headphones and her mobile off and missing his triumph (thank goodness for replays).

But I loved this article in The Age recently by Shane Green - and I quote. 'In the dying minues of the Socceroos game agains Croatia at the 2006 World Cup, Harry Kewell's equalising goal was enough to propel Australia into the last 16. Kewell's role in that famous moment is etched into our sporting history. What is lesser known is the part that I played. .... Rather than just sit on the couch under the doona with the family, I had developed a slightly manic personal involvement in a game happening on the other side of the world.

Many sports fans will know what I'm talking about. Since I have been sitting in this part of the room, my team seems to be playing better. Why did I go and make that coffee that cost us a goal? Sit down and get some shape back into the defence. .... Take the case of the Kewell goal. In a bid to ease the tension in our household, I had embarked on a dishwashing frenzy while watching the game. Call it co-incidence if you must, but my presence at the sink coincided with a surge from the Socceroos. I dared not move from my position. Pass the Palmolive. "Kewell!!!!" ..... At least I'm down for a goal-assist for Kewell. Bizarre ritualistic behaviour - will this make a difference to a team or a player on the other side of the world and in another time-zone.'
Harry Kewell celebrating a goal - aided by Shane Green and the Palmolive!
I won't even go on about the ritualistic behaviour of those playing the games in which we are 'participating from the couch'. Suffice to say we all know Rafael Nadal's routines which include the infamous adjustment of his underwear - it's called the knicker picker - to the fact that he never steps on the lines before or after any point and he makes sure that his right foot goes over before his left foot. If they help him to win then so be it.

The Knicker Picker
It reminds me of Christopher Robin in the A A Milne poem Lines and Squares.

Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet;
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who tread on the lines of the street
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all the squares!"

And I often find myself doing it as I walk the pavements - ridiculous because I know there aren't any bears waiting!
The real Christopher Robin Milne with Bear
So if you are crossing your fingers and hoping no-one sees, walking between the lines, doing the dishes, and a host of other 'eyes-closed' situations just remember that you are not alone.

What are your superstitions. And how do they play out for you?!

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