One day in September...

... the city of Melbourne goes nuts every year. The architectural failure at the centre of the CBD, otherwise known as Federation Square, is filled with fans who were not lucky enough to score seats at the jampacked modern day Colosseum - the MCG. Friends gather for a BBQ, some 'frothies' and ponder their mutual hatred for the umpires of our national sport, as the TV or radio is on full blast with over enthusiastic callers screaming unintelligibly. Such is the culture of Melbourne, that this event is known as The Grand Final.

For 44 lucky men, no matter what happens when that final siren sounds, it will not be a day that they could ever forget. A lifetime of dreams, pre-seasons tough enough to make grown men weep in pain and all for a chance to take to the big stage for two whole hours.

If you're fortunate enough, your AFL team just may have been good enough at the right times to make the Grand Final. In such a case the only code of conduct acceptable on the day is to throw any sportsmanship you have out the window. There is no umpire decision that can be acceptable if it goes against your team. It's never a close game because the opposition is playing a good game - it's only close because your team haven't been good enough. You don't empathise with fans of the opposition team, no matter how long it's been between drinks. Lastly, if your team happens to get up, you don't pass up on the opportunity to laugh at the despondent players of the losing team.

Geelong celebrate their 2009 Premiership.

Photo: Herald Sun