Don’t tell me you don’t know the pleasure of schadenfreude…..well at least I do.

Don’t tell me you don’t know the pleasure of schadenfreude…..well at least I do.

I reckon I first heard the above term* when it was explained by a stand-up comedian. For those of you not as smart as me the term means to get pleasure from the misfortune of others**. I think the point being made by the comedian was about how weird the Huns are for having such a term. A point made to pander to the audiences feeling of humane superiority to the stereotypical German robot. I would have definitely laughed. Crazy Germans.

Of course gross stereotypes don’t stack up to any scrutiny. In my experience they usually fall over when talking to a member of the community being typecast, but in this case a happy, funny German would know the guilty pleasure. This one falls over on the reverse, we are all guilty of this illogical, evil trait; even a kind, loving Aussie like me.

This weird fetish we all have, to some degree, got me thinking about the Grand final last weekend. For those of you living under a rock; the most successful team in modern history, Hawthorn took on the biggest court jester in modern Footy, Freo.On the surface it was a good result, Freo gained respect while the Hawks got a premiership that they deserved after being the dominant team of 2013, not to mention making up for losing what was, probably, rightfully theirs the year before. However. I like so many other red blooded Victorians was cheering Freo on.

Why? Well publicly, because Freo haven’t won before, I like how they go about it and we all like an underdog, right? Of course being a child of the 80’s I’m also a bit sick of Hawthorn success and all those spoilt Hawks fans joy. I must admit to no shortage of pleasure when the Swannies stole it last year as the underdogs. Even more sadistically I must admit to a feeling of joy when the Bombers were relegated to ninth letting an even bigger underdog (and my team) into the finals.

I can and do pretend any pleasure is purely about underdogs, as it is often said that Aussies love an underdog. I do however have an inkling it is more about chopping down tall poppies and enjoying watching the mighty fall, cheering the underdog may just be a convenient excuse. I do get some perverse pleasure when the big players like the fallen angel Jimi Hird and the evil elf Al Clarkson have to lick their wounds. Even more worrying I have a suspicion I even get pleasure seeing the plague of supporters these clubs have in my age bracket, friends, family and acquaintances being disappointed. No doubt not having to hear them skite for something they had no influence on is good. But. Is seeing them humbled also a motive?

It does seem strange that all these lemmings, me included, pin their hopes to the roulette wheel of footy results only to get them consistently dashed. While on this train of thought, I must admit to a smile when a footy scarf dangling off somebody’s office chair goes missing after a qualifying final, the banner on a front window is binned after the prelim and the idle footy chit chat with the edge of skiting is replaced with talk of the weather. Did I really want the Dockers to win because it would be nice for them? The team with Crowley and Ballantyne for god sake! If I’m being honest I was just going to enjoy the pleasure of people, I otherwise know and like, not being happy with the result.

What a sicko I am.

But… Perhaps this anti football barracking is actually glass half full optimism. I’m not great at maths but it seems your team has only a one in a billion chance of winning the flag. So logically it is better to cheer for some teams to lose. If you can also get pleasure from seeing teams lose your in for a happy life. Somebodies team is bound to lose every single week. Even on Saturday my team for the fortnight, may have lost but wasn’t it good to see Ballantyne and Crowley lose!? So what kind of terrible person am I? I say, not terrible at all. What some may see as negative thinking in reality makes me a walking on sunshine happy camper type. O.K so I don’t know how I ended up thinking on these lines but, somewhere along the track of twisted logic I have arrived at a place where taking pleasure in others misfortune is a good thing. Even stranger it also leads me to thank Collingwood. We have all the joy Collingwood has brought non Collingwood fans by losing so many grannies. That easy to hate, sack of joy of a football conglomerate the Maggies.

I guess I can admit to feeling this way because footy really doesn’t matter, even if occasionally it feels like it does. When you catch yourself, or somebody else, attaching too much pride and then anguish in how a bunch of young blokes chasing leather perform you actually owe it to the world to laugh. Question: You know when you see somebody stumble when walking, look down at the uneven ground, then quickly around to see if anyone saw? Do you look away to preserve their dignity, or, smile, point, saw you? I think it shows your a good egg if you can laugh as the tripper and as the witness, it proves you don’t take yourself or life to seriously. If you feel overly embarrassed or shamed loosen up man.

Football is no different, it doesn’t matter so feel free to enjoy the misfortune. I’m not excusing the real nasty pasties, who can laugh regardless of somebody’s genuine distress. I do however think you should enjoy the stumbles of others and even more crucially laugh at your own. If you suffer a small misfortune that really doesn't matter and all you hurt was a slither of pride, then the person who laughs at you is doing you a favour. You were caught out being a bit proud, no big deal have a luagh...you mug. Most importantly (please agree with me) it is o.k to cheer a team for all the wrong reasons provided the outcome isn’t too serious….go ASADA?

*A term I only typed once because spelling it out pains me.

**And for those of you always trying to prove your smarts, my non dictionary definition no doubt leaves the door wide open for you prove your smarter than me.