Glenorchy 16.6 (102) d Clarence 9.12 (66)

Last night Dad and Marcus and I went along to Glenorchy with Rob and Olivia for the opening game of the local footy season. There was a record crowd (8400 plus about 5000 non-paying kids). A lot of us were there to see "Aker" – Jason Akermanis, the former Brisbane Lion triple-premiership player and Brownlow medalist. It’s a long time since a higher-credentialled big league player came to the state. He was sacked last July by his second club the Western Bulldogs, essentially for being a big mouth. He was getting paid by media outlets on the understanding he would be controversial, but his club just wanted him to concentrate on footy and stop giving other clubs ammunition.

As soon as he was cut loose, the Glenorchy Magpies began the process of luring him to Tasmania. Immediately my boss smelled a documentary, and from Aker's first visits to Tasmania we have been tracking him with a camera crew. I actually put my foot in it last night, when I was down by the boundary line and Raef and Jeff walked past, filming the crowd. I gave them a big wave - you aren't meant to do that unless you are a colourful character, preferably toothless and tattooed. It spoils the footage when one of the crew's buddies spots them and waves hello.

We watched the first quarter standing near the food kiosk - it was the first spot we had come to that was out of the wind. At quarter time we walked across the ground to a better vantage point (still the best thing about local footy is being allowed on the ground in the breaks). The umpires gather in the centre of the ground during the short breaks, and we were bewildered to note that they were being guarded by Darth Vader and a number of stormtroopers ranging from rake-thin to quite fat. One stormtrooper was adjusting Darth's cape which was in disarray due to the stiff breeze.

"How goes the Foot Ball?"  "The Pies appear to have the Roos on toast, your Highness".

We watched the next two quarters sitting on the bank on the scoreboard side, and copped that breeze right in the teeth. We put on every warm thing we had brought. My ears were suddenly so cold that I stuffed my gloves in under my beanie. They hung down like Winston's ears, and I was certainly one of the most ridiculous looking people there, which is saying something.

Just a new look I'm working on.

At halftime I decided to get in the hot pies for everyone, back on the other side of the ground. Just as I reached the front of the queue, the hot pies ran out, and the kiosk started laboriously microwaving frozen ones. I waited ages for ours, but at least they were fairly hot in the end. According to the paper "while the traditional meat pie might have been cold enough to warrant being served on an icy pole stick, just about everything else ran perfectly."

The tension is palpable as the hot pies in the Kevin Baker Kiosk run out.

The football was a pretty good standard, and it was certainly a crowd-pleasing result. Aker looked rusty early but was in better nick by the end. We stayed hoping to see the famous post-match handstand, but the "New King of Glenorchy" was swamped by kids. He apparently had a to have a few goes at it before he had enough space to execute one.

Marcus loved it, even though there was no big screen or commentary to tell him what was happening every minute. I think a good night was had by all.