JOURNALIST Sarah Swain has been single (but dating) for longer than she cares to remember.
That’s because it’s tough out there, as any single will tell you, so to bring hope to others across the city, she’s sharing her no-holds-barred adventures on the Sydney single scene every Friday.
I tackle a second date
I’M not one of those girls who’d rather go without a spray tan for a month than watch sport.
In fact there are some sports I quite like.
Mainly horsey things, but still, I’m pretty keen to give anything a go.
And I even know the difference between AFL, NRL, soccer and football.
So I didn’t recoil in horror when I was invited to go on a date to a Manly Sea Eagles game.
You see Radio Guy, who’d come with me on that big wheel blind date at Luna Park, had invited me out again.
And I thought it was a pretty good idea.
I figured that if we ran out of conversation at least we could watch the match.
And even better, the date wasn’t based around drinking, like every single other activity seems to be these days (though I did inquire of my colleagues if wine was sold, you know, just in case, and they assured me that yes it was. Phew.)
So, after hastily borrowing a scarf from my pal Annie on the morning of the match to defend myself from the sharp wind I’ve heard swirls around “Fortress Brookvale” I was all set for kick-off.
Now, something which really irritates me, is when people — and it’s always guys- insist on meeting OUTSIDE places, usually bars, rather than heading inside by themselves.
Are they too shy to go inside on their own?
Or do they think I am?
Anyway, Radio Guy had insisted on waiting directly outside my office rather then picking me up in the nearby car park as I’d suggested.
And I daren’t look up, for fear my colleagues were all peering out of the window.
Once we got to Brookvale and collected the tickets, we headed towards the hospitality seats, next to which sat cool boxes laden with iced beverages, and waiters in aprons carrying little boxes filled with crisps.
Great! I thought.
Until Radio Guy started shuffling into one of the rows of red bucket seats right next to them.
At least he bought me some hot chips and a Coke Zero.
And the match was pretty good.
I even knew everything thing that was going on.
Every little thing.
Never mind my fear we’d run out of conversation, I was sitting next to Ray Hadley himself.
From the 20 meter restart to the 10/40 line, long drops and Manly’s Grand Final win of ‘76, just ask me, I know it all.
Scrum feeds and the obstruction rule? I’m all over it.
I even know which years legend Zorba did and didn’t play, and all about some person called Beaver.
Manly won, which was great.
And, on the way home, we listened to the match analysis on the radio.
That’s a bit like me dragging somebody to see a musical and then making them listen to the soundtrack all the way home.
And there’s a song about Radio Guy.
It’s a British one, called football crazy,
And it goes: “He’s football crazy. He’s football mad.”
I don’t know the rest, but it doesn’t really matter.
‘Cause while it’s about another kind of football, it’s pretty fitting.
Especially when he declared that was what he did from March to October.
And I asked him what he did for the rest of the year, and he replied that he ‘watched re-runs’. Seriously.
“Cause while I thought Radio Guy could have had potential, he failed to really kick the try into a conversion — and not just ‘cause of his erm, dedication.
I mean he’s not in the sin bin or anything — I’m just going to pass him on.
*Something really sad happened to somebody I knew last week.
Whether you’re a girl or a guy, if you’re struggling with a break-up, help is out there.
Call Lifeline on 13 11 14.