Finals. Being Australian, I like finals. All of our footy codes have finals (I’m not sure on rugby union ok, but if it’s truly Australian it does). Weekends in the month of September are marked off on calendars each year as footy finals. No one remembers who the best team was over the course of the season. No. We remember the team that wins this one particular game.
Contrast this with the English. As I was talking to my Dad about the NWSL finals and my team’s accomplishments, in all his English wisdom, he replied “who cares about finals”. I was gobsmacked. “Who cares?” AUSTRALIANS AND THE REST OF THE WORLD CARE DAD!!
Since this conversation, I have thought about what finals mean. My brain, too full of uni, was able to draw a comparison between finals and study. The season is like the 60% research essay. It’s long, it’s arduous and it’s the culmination of everything you have worked for throughout the semester (or season). A final is like an exam. You prepare for the exam, but at the end of the day, the true test is only a couple hours long and someone always comes out a winner or a loser.
Finals are better. Trust me. The season is possibly a true indication of character and dedication. But finals brings hope and a chance for the underdog win.
I’m pretty certain the only people who don’t like finals are people who always get knocked out of them *cough, cough, the English men’s football team and every world cup bar ‘66*.
So with that decided, this Sunday morning, if you don’t care for sleep-ins, catch my beloved Portland Thorns go up against North Carolina Courage at 7.30am on www.nwslsoccer.com
MOLLY'S FOOTY RANTS 