The good, the bad and the "What the . . .?"

Let’s leave aside for a moment whether there’s a need for pre-game “entertainment” at the AFL Grand Final. For 2009, inclement weather may have marked a partial return to sanity.

Mark Seymour, Jimmy Barnes and John Farnham performed from a stage situated above an access driveway onto the ground. Terrific idea on two counts: they were close enough to some of the crowd to actually feed off some crowd energy; and there was no need to construct a large and intricate temporary stage in the middle of the ground (which would then need to be dismatled and wheeled off the ground).

A small dais was in place for the performance of James Morrison and six accompanying trumpeters to play. . . the club songs? Why?

Of course, there was also the obligatory crowd of youthful people performing in unison. One suspects the AFL “entertainment” gurus are students of Kim Jong Il and feel a similar need to display massed uniform conformity. In the extremely windy conditions, it would not have been surprising to see performers being lifted off into the stratosphere by the piece of picture (of the Premiership Cup) they were holding aloft.

But it was all topped off by the contextually-isolated arrival of the real Premiership Cup via some sort of flying fox arrangement strung between two light towers. What the #*^@ did this represent?

Let’s return to why this “entertainment” is needed. The NFL has a tradition, on a far smaller and more intimate arena, of providing an “entertainment” extravaganza at half time of the Superbowl. Given the stop-start nature of NFL football, perhaps it’s not surprising that the crowd need something “exciting” to gee them up at half time. The NFL also cater to the cultural needs of their audience — see examples in sport such as cheer leaders at gridiron games and organists leading crowd chants during the many breaks in baseball.

I fail to see how the AFL’s hit and miss attempts at “entertainment” cater to the needs, cultural or otherwise, of a Grand Final crowd.