I once had three years of experience as a playing coach in the WA bush in the late 90’s.

My job at the time took me to Perth after living in the east coast for fifteen years. As a native of WA it was a great opportunity to catch up with old friends and family I hadn’t seen much of over the years.

All I wanted to do whilst I still had some football currency, was to play with my younger brother Glen who lived two hours south of Perth. It would mean a lot of driving three days a week but the promise of some serious nostalgia was too much.

The two clubs I coached, Waroona in the Peel League and Boddington in the Upper Great Southern League both made me feel welcome. I was probably lucky to have Glen there as a former champion at both clubs, as I felt a bit like a sore thumb at times coming from the city almost like an alien dropping in.

Because I took coaching way too seriously and travelled ridiculous distances, I never really took the time to smell the roses.

Despite making some great friends my biggest regret was not spending more time in those communities instead of constantly rushing.

Today was the first visit to a country game in God knows how long. My old Werribee team mate Glenn was coaching Dunstown versus Carngham-Linton in a Central Highlands League Elimination Final.

We got there early and saw a half of the under 18s and the Reserves in the beautiful setting of Waurbra Football and Netball Club.

The first thing that strikes you is the smells. BBQ’d meat, onions, chopped up mud, linament, Deep Heat, chips cooking, beer and secondary smoke.

Cars line the perimeter and the netball finals are played literally next door to the clubhouse. The canteen and bar were pumping and are sure to raise enough money in one day to fund any bills that come their way in 2025.

The hotdogs were incredible. Long extra soft buns that have come from a bakery, not Woolies, and can easily accommodate a jumbo sausage. I had to have two just to ensure I wasn’t dreaming.

The Under 18’s were OK but there isn’t the passion with the kids that there was in yesteryear. I don’t blame them as this notable apathy has been happening for the past couple of decades and has led to poor participation rates. The youth of today have plenty of distractions these days as opposed to my generation where footy and cricket were our primary focus.

The reserves game had it’s funny moments. There were blokes running around with the dimensions of Tony Lockett and they weren’t bad at all, just lacking second efforts.

And why is it in reserves footy that one side has a forty five year old lunatic who thinks he’s twenty one and is always looking for a fight? Some things never change.

The senior game was a ripper with Glenn’s team holding on to win by seventeen points. In a topsy turvy game I was super impressed with the skill level and hardness of the players.

Physical clashes were abundant and that comes from the speed and skills obviously being significantly below AFL level. Shepherding in AFL is something that is pretty much obsolete but thankfully is still alive in the bush. It was nice to hear the occasional ‘splat’ of bodies crashing into each other. The endeavour both sides showed is to be commended.

As someone who has spent a lot of time at Marvel Stadium, I’m disappointed that I’ve allowed my affection and subsequent frustration for The Saints to divert me from what I love about the game.

It’s not the sterile, robotic AFL with the lecherous media, goal celebrations, structures and appalling commentary on Channel Seven, that’s for sure.

What I’ve missed is the sense of community that country footy provides. It’s the elderly bloke I chatted to who moved over so I could sit down, it’s the reserves blokes taking the piss out of a mate being interchanged and get a vengeful smile in return, it’s the hard working volunteers providing superb home cooked meals to the punters, it’s the dozens of gorgeous kids having a kick during the breaks with their parents and most of all its the players from these tiny regional towns. What they may lack in population, they more than  make up for it in spirit and authenticity.

As Glenn noted, the weather played a big part in the aesthetics of the day. It’s not always sunny and devoid of wind. I understand that but it won’t deter me from visiting local footy again, if only for the hotdogs.