The Boys Are Back In Town

We’d been given about 30 minutes or so to refresh ourselves and meet in the foyer.

Mary-Rita and I are the last to arrive back downstairs, which unfortunately sets a disturbing precedent for the next 4 days. Everyone else is waiting by the time we rush downstairs, flushed and flustered.

We hop onto a bus and head off to some other hotels to collect the remaining members of the Collingwood group. After driving around to a couple of them, we realise with great satisfaction that we seem to have chosen wisely and that the Sofitel is among the pick of the hotels in the city. It is situated virtually on top of the Deira Centre, a massive shopping mall approximately the size of Bundaberg. My eyes glaze over as I anticipate the shopping Mecca that awaits me on our return from the training session.

Originally the match was to have been played at the Dubai Equestrian and Polo Club, but unfortunately, due to the field being ploughed into a quagmire, a change of venue was required. We head out to Ghantoot Polo Club where the match is to take place tomorrow. It’s about an hour’s drive from our hotel, but on a positive note, we get to see quite a bit of the city and surrounds on our way there.

We drive down Sheikh Zayed Road, with which we will become all too familiar in the coming days. It’s massively long, completely flat and bordered on both sides by sand, spinifex and cranes. The occasional camel wandering around breaks the monotony of the scenery.

We arrive at Ghantoot, which borders Abu Dhabi from Dubai. In honour of the match, a special football ground was created, complete with construction of grandstands for the spectators. Things were still being constructed (such as the scoreboard) when we arrived, but we were grateful for a chance to wander around on the field and soak up the atmosphere.

When we arrived the Crows were finishing off their training session, and all of us agreed (upon later reflection and discussion) that those boys looked in fine form. They were as fresh as daisies and ready to go. Their coaches and staff looked relaxed and pretty happy.

Gradually, the Magpies started to appear out of the dressing sheds, resplendent in specially made red training jerseys. Cliff, Nathan, Grant and Peter immediately started looking around for the marketing people to find out how they could get one for themselves. I immediately start looking around for Brodie Holland and wondering how I can get one of him for myself. It was absolutely a case of “Mr Wonderful…….Who??” as the Pies gathered en masse.

Just as I’m scanning the field for a sight of Brodie, a familiar blond head draws my attention, and I’m on it like a shark on a blood scent. BUCKS!

Being a Queenslander means that if you’re a Collingwood member/supporter, you tend to miss out on all the excitement of what’s going on in Melbourne. AFL does not have quite the religious reverence that it does in our southern sister city, so I was completely unaware that Bucks (that’s Nathan Buckley, wearer of No 5, former Captain, Collingwood great and all-round sporting legend for those of you heathens who don’t know of him) was joining the Dubai tour. He’s commentating for Channel 7 and whipped out to have a gander at the boys in training.

I suddenly realise that I’m having an out of body experience and am, in actual irrefutable fact, standing ‘beside myself’. As this dawns on me, I glance across at my other self and realise that she’s gone and done the gaping trout look again, and it’s not a good look at that – I silently Christen myself ‘trout-face’ for the rest of the tour and quietly die inside from the embarrassment.

I surreptitiously take some photos of Bucks before Jeff Clifton, one of our group members and former Collingwood workhorse himself, suggests that I get a photo taken with Bucks. He arranges it, and next thing I know, there I am with Bucks posing for posterity. It was all I could do not to genuflect in front of him, but thankfully managed to restrain myself. This is all a blur of course and I only know that there’s a photo in existence because I’ve seen it. Mary-Rita joins in the action and we get a photo together with Bucks. Even for an ardent Lions supporter such as Mary-Rita, the presence of Bucks among us has a special effect. Such is his presence she’s now also pleased that she decided to venture half way around the world for the experience of supporting Collingwood.

I am most satisfied to report that retirement hasn’t affected Captain Buckley’s physique in any way at this point in time, and he has retained every single one of those qualities inherent in a god-like body. Aside from his Olympian features, Bucks is also a really great guy and lovely to talk with. He’s enjoying himself, making the most of the Dubai trip and his new role with Channel 7.

Next on the list for Trout Face to gape at was number 23 legend, Anthony Rocca. Thankfully, I live in Queensland and am unlikely to encounter him again, as the first words out of my mouth as he comes over for the photo are “Oh My God, you’re massive!” Nice work – I swear I’m a deep shade of beetroot red in the photos.

Mary-Rita spies Brad Scott – former Lion and now Assistant Coach for Collingwood. We have a chat with him and also get some photos taken (….turning Japanese, I think I’m turning Japanese, I really think so, dada dada da da da…..). Shares in Canon have just skyrocketed and the Japanese economy lives to fight another day. Mary-Rita cannot believe Brad Scott’s gone to the Pies and eyes him suspiciously as though she’s discovered he’s Darth Vader in human form. I, of course, congratulate him on seeing the light and joining the good guys – better late than never. I have a theory that every AFL player in the nation wants to play for Collingwood and they only bag the Pies through lip service until they become anointed as one of The Chosen. Once one has played for Collingwood, there’s no going back. It’s like Highlander – There Can Be Only One!

Our most senior group member, Gladys, gets a photo with Leon Davis, her ‘pin up boy’. A few of us also snap away at Gladys and Leon, savouring this moment for future memories. It's a generational snapsnot to warm the cockles of any heart. Gladys is like a kid in a candy store and we’re all just as excited as each other to be able to mingle with the players. I can honestly say that they don’t make them like Gladys any more. She is such a trooper and has more energy than some people a third of her age. She’s an inspiration to us all and we love her. Same goes for Elsie, Bill and Cliff – it’s wonderful to see such energy in people, and all of them believe that age is only a number and has no bearing whatsoever on a person’s attitude to life. If only the entire Y-Gen would take notes and live life as people such as Gladys, Cliff, Elsie and Bill do, we’d all be much better off. These people are truly a delight to be around and I’m humbled to be in their company.

We hang out with the Pies for a while longer and watch their training session. It’s a gorgeous morning and we’re enjoying every minute of it. Let’s hope the match tomorrow is a success for all. I’m still scanning the scene looking for Brodie Holland before I’m informed of the sad news that Brodie is still in South Africa and won’t be playing with the team tomorrow. I’m disappointed, but there are plenty of consolation prizes happening before me so the wound isn’t too deep.

It’s a warm day and the boys are a little on the warm side after they’ve finished their workout. Jerseys come off and the sight of many a sculpted, glistening torso within touching distance is enough to put a spring into any girl’s step. Oh Thank You God.

All too soon however, our small personal piece of Nirvana comes to an end and we reluctantly board the bus for the trip back to the city. We're all on a high - whether that's from sheer sleep deprivation and jet lag or hormonal imbalance remains to be seen, but, we're almost delirious with excitement.

We arrive back at the hotel and proceed upstairs to our personal lounge where a tasty buffet awaits us. Spend a couple of hours grazing like bovines and admiring the city view before we decide we’ve got the energy to tackle Deira City.

Shop up a storm for what seems like eternity, before we comprehend that we’ve only touched the tip of the iceberg in terms of size of the complex and that we’d need a solid week of specifically dedicated shopping time to fit it all in. Retire graciously to our room for a small rest before we scout out some options for dinner. We’ve been going non-stop since we arrived, and on top of a 16-hour flight to get there, it’s been a very, very long couple of days with little sleep.

Some of the group are off to the Collingwood dinner, although I opted not to go to this, as the players weren't appearing and I thought we'd simply be too exhausted to pay attention. Nothing more humiliating than paying several hundred dollars to go to a dinner and then falling asleep face first in the pumpkin soup.

We decide that we’re just too exhausted to be bothered wandering too far from home, so the Level 2 hotel restaurants seem like a fabulous idea. There’s a gorgeous fine dining restaurant called The Villa in our hotel, where we enjoy exquisite French food and superior service from the staff.

Finish dinner, return to our room, hit the showers and collapse into our beds. Mercifully, they’re so comfortable it’s like sleeping in a cloud. Black out.

End of Day 1 - one down, four to follow. GO PIES!