The After Match Shower | The Suburban Footballer’s Secret Diaries


I love the after match shower. There is something therapeutic about standing completely naked with your team mates discussing the flogging you have both just shared. It’s as if the water that dribbles from the 75 year old shower head, washes you of your sins from the past two hours. Nobody cares if you pulled out of a contest, dropped an easy mark or your man kicked 12. In the shower you all stand naked as equals.

I love nothing more than that magical moment when the topic of conversation switches from the days loss to planning the night ahead. That’s when you know that the 12 minutes of mourning has passed, and Saturday night has begun.

It’s the only situation I can think of where it is totally acceptable to drink beer in the shower. I’ve tried drinking beer in the shower at home and it just wasn’t the same. For some reason it just felt sad. I don’t care that the steam warms up the beer and the water that finds it’s way into the can makes it virtually undrinkable, there is something about holding a VB can while showering with your mates that makes me feel like a real free spirit.

You turn the tap one eighth of a degree one way, you will be freezing cold. You turn it one eighth of a degree the other way, you’ll be freezing cold. Only in a footy club shower can you have the sensation of freezing and burning at exactly the same time. Then after half an hour when you finally get the temperature just right, some arse hole will turn his shower off, completely fucking the temperature for everyone else. If you are standing in a footy club shower and you are experiencing a consistent, warm temperature, it’s probably because some smart arse team mate is taking a piss on your leg. As we stand ankle deep in our own filth, there is only one way to describe a footy club shower, and that is third world.

I have two simple rules when showering at a footy club. A, Jocks off (this one is a nonnegotiable and I feel so strongly about it that it will get its own diary entry), and B, I’m not getting out until the hot water has completely run out. Being the first in and the last out allows me to have a good chat with every team mate. Surely one will have a compliment to say about my game if not, it won’t be for a lack of me fishing for one. The only person who is not a fan of my hour long showers is my girlfriend Tammie, who waits impatiently with the drunks in the club rooms. Despite her weekly complaints, deep down I think she loves spending time with our 12 supporters who have been drinking since 10am.

On paper there is nothing good about a footy club shower. Zero water pressure, inconsistent temperature, extremely high chance of catching disease, but I don’t care. The after match shower is one of the main reasons I play footy and it’s my time to shine. Just don’t wear your jocks.

PS – Our seniors and reserves have won 3 games between us and we both sit rock bottom but to be honest, I stopped giving a shit about a month ago.

What do you think?