ClayNation: All you need to know about Aussie Rules football

I've watched Australian Rules football on TV before. Each time I was drunk or in Europe. Occasionally I've been drunk and in Europe.

Every time I've watched the games I've been confused as to what was happening. There was always lots of running and kicking and four large goalposts that seemed to vaguely signify something. Plus there's a guy with a flag who waves it fairly frequently and a general sense of reckless bedlam prevails on the field. When people manage to score, the numbers change but the actual relationship seems far removed, at least to me, from the actions on the field.

(Photo/Jason Kindig)

But recently reader Brenn Miller e-mailed to let me know he was flying in from Dallas to Nashville to participate in an Aussie Rules football game. Brenn managed to invite me to come out and watch the game.

Interestingly, Brenn wasn't going to be playing against the Nashville team but for the Baton Rouge team. Even though he wasn't actually a member of the Baton Rouge team. Even more interesting, I learned that Nashville had an Aussie Rules football team. Who knew?

Usually I dodge these sort of invitations so I can catch up on shows like Newport Harbor. Particularly when it's over 100 degrees, and writing a column about the event will require me to stand in the sun, sweat and be confused. If I wanted to do this, I could just go to an outdoor wedding.

I also avoid invitations like these because I'm convinced that eventually I'm going to arrive for an event and a passel of fat-armed Florida girls are going to tackle me and then smother me with their ample arm fat. But Brenn informed me that the game was taking place less than a mile from my house. Then he received the endorsement of a law school friend of mine who assured me that Brenn was not trying to wound or maim me and that fat-armed girls from Florida weren't involved.

So I went. I also went because somehow the ClayNation column has become popular in Australia. By "popular," I mean at least 10 people in the past few months have e-mailed to let me know they read in Australia. Which is quite a bit more readers than have ever e-mailed from states such as North or South Dakota, Hawaii and Montana. So I felt like I owed a tip of the beaver pelt in the direction of Australian sports. So here we go, with DDT-style numbering, my introduction to Aussie Rules Football.

1. I convince my friend Doug to accompany me to the game. Doug is a Georgia grad who hosted me in Athens on the DDT and happened to be visiting last weekend. During high school and college, Doug was the kind of guy who would agree to drive to Canada from anywhere in the continental United States on about 10 minutes notice. Now he's married and has a daughter, and you have to schedule a beer with him nine months, 22 days in advance. You can imagine how shocked I was when he agreed to go watch the game with me, once more for old time's sake, on 10 minutes notice.

2. We arrive at Nashville's Elmington Park about five minutes before the game is scheduled to start. There are two teams, one clad in blue and the other in yellow. Both teams are jogging around the field. Doug and I contemplate getting out of the car but instead stay inside watching from the air-conditioning. The world seems frighteningly hot outside.

(Photo/Jason Kindig)

3. Each team appears to have about 15 total players. Everyone's number ranges from 1-15 or thereabouts except for one large man in yellow who is number 69. This raises the intriguing question: Has any woman ever slept with a man she knew chose the number 69 in a sporting event? How about slept with a man she otherwise wouldn't have because of his number selection? The answer to both of these question has to be no, right?

4. We exit the car and elect to sit on the opposite side of the field from the PA announcer, in the shade of several trees. It's brutally hot even in the shade. Doug begins to complain about the heat. "(Insert a series of expletives here) heat," he says.

5. Both teams gather in the center of the field and the Star Spangled Banner is played. All are silent. Then the Australian national anthem is played. I can't really make out the words that well, but all of the players seem to be singing along. Many of the players have Australian accents. If I were Australian my patriotism would be swelling.

I'm going to extrapolate this single bit of knowledge, as only the most committed journalists can, to reach a broad conclusion. Namely, every Australian sings along when the national anthem is played. My primary hypothesis as to why is because otherwise Rupert Murdoch gets right of first refusal to sleep with their wives. My second hypothesis? Non-singers are fed to saltwater crocodiles. See, we're already learning.