Except of course for my once a year flutter on the Melbourne Cup. After all, I like to think my $2 each way is an Aussie thing to do. I didn’t know what “each way” meant until quite recently.

There is one competition though, I love and absolutely have to be a part of. And not one cent changes hands.

The NRL footy season, beloved by many and eagerly awaited each and every year,  has been in full swing for quite a few weeks now. And with it, competition in the Goddard family has evolved, has blossomed with an intensity, almost a ferocity not seen since this time last year.

Yes, it’s the family footy tipping competition I’m referring to, and let me tell you, we take it very seriously. Hubby and I, our children, their partners, our grandchildren, are all in it to win it, with immense and insufferable bragging rights for the off-season being the ultimate prize. 

Each week as individuals we contemplate, we listen to sports news, some of us more competitive types study form, who’s in, who’s out, what coach is looking crook…and then by Thursday afternoon, before the first game of the round, we make our individual choices, and they’re locked in. 

This exercise requires mental fortitude, skill, and almost as much stamina as the players.

Eight games across four days. By game eight I’m looking for a good  TV documentary, or a grisly forensic drama, I’m so footballed out. Until, of course, next Thursday, when I’m refreshed and it all starts again.

Last year was a sorry tale. The Goddard comp only had 3 participants due to an initial lack of interest in keeping the tallies. Apparently everyone was too busy. I took on the task of keeping the scores, and was quite successful despite my old fashioned approach with pen and paper. We got through the season with nary a controversy, or questioning of my mathematics. At least I didn’t use an abacus to keep score.

This year we’ve become technologically advanced. We use an online app to make our choices. This app also shows what everyone else has chosen. And so as the round goes on, we can all see who’s winning, and alas, who’s not. This can bring elation, or angst, depending on how successful, or otherwise, you are.

There are some in the family who feel they are experts, they’ve actually played the game, and they’ve been watching it for years. Not mentioning names Hubby.

Funnily enough though, and more often than not, it’s the novice, or the person that rarely watches a game, but loves to be part of the tipping competition, who leads. And generally wins. An anomaly not lost on me.

Take this last week for example. The hot favourites to win the Grand Final, who play like a well oiled machine, the Penrith Panthers, were chosen by all ten of us to win the first game.

They lost. 

From the start to the end of the round, upsets, injuries, one sided score lines, and the usual controversies surrounding referee and Bunker decisions has our What’s App Fam Chat in full flight. 

Some of us actually know the rules, some have no idea, but we all have something to say nonetheless. The texts are happening thick and fast. On occasion, it seems that just about every play is questioned by one of us.

Was that a forward pass? 

That wasn’t a hip drop!! 

The ref missed that shoulder charge!!! 

And so it will continue, feverishly, to the season’s end.

Last week I tipped seven out of eight games, and was running hot. This week I tipped two, and have dropped down to halfway on our leader board. 

Am I worried ? No. 

Am I having fun?

Sure am. As are the rest of the participants. 

Well, maybe not Hubby. He’s running dead last at the moment.