There is a certain comfort that comes with being at a country football game.
Subscribe now for unlimited access.
$0/
(min cost $0)
or signup to continue reading
Cars, often two-to-three deep, flank the sidelines, their occupants united by a love for the sport and the thrill of the spectacle.
An orchestra of horns after every goal punctures the welcoming drone of supporters who have come out for an afternoon at the footy. Just like they've done for decades and as their parents and grandparents so often did before them.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Football-netball clubs are synonymous with regional communities, so when the colour and noise is locked out of the ground, the impacts are clear.
The community was fractured, the mood sombre.
With crowds outlawed under strict COVID guidelines, the football-netball season's return felt procedural.
Yes, there were four quarters to be played and vital premiership points on offer, but the heart of sport - the people - wasn't there.
Every coach's command was amplified across the ground with no hum of the crowd to hide their praise and displeasure.
On the field, it was clear the players were in unfamiliar territory.
Every little win, every brutal hit, was celebrated just that bit more as teams worked to create their own atmosphere.
In the absence of a crowd, it was clear sides were wary of falling into the emptiness.
For victors, the celebrations were unnatural.
They filed off the ground to whispers, sunk into the closed changing rooms and ended the day.
With their champions out of sight, the select few in the ground could only revel in the team song in the brief lapses in the wind.
Country footy was back, but its brilliance was the other side of a locked gate.
If you are seeing this message you are a loyal digital subscriber to The Courier, as we made this story available only to subscribers. Thank you very much for your support and allowing us to continue telling Ballarat's story. We appreciate your support of journalism in our great city.