When my family moved into our first suburban house in Melbourne’s south-east, the biggest attraction, at least for me, was the public school directly across the road. With younger kids to think about, it seemed like a sensible choice.
Beyond that, though, our new neighbourhood appeared to have very little going on.
The better libraries, bigger parks, cinemas and all the other pleasures of city life seemed to require a tiring drive. So we left most of that for the weekends. During the week, we were learning to live with a much slower, quieter suburban way of life. At first, it felt like a bit of a setback.
Before moving here, we had become used to the hustle and bustle of city life, and suddenly our evenings seemed unusually long. We missed being able to step outside and find something happening.
Then came the first Saturday morning that changed everything.
We were sitting on our Afghan carpet in the backyard enjoying our special weekend breakfast when we began hearing loud, persistent cheering coming from the direction of the school. We jumped in the car to find our local oval was packed. Suddenly, our supposedly sleepy little suburb had come alive.
There were football games happening one after another, with young children, teenagers, parents, siblings and grandparents filling the sidelines. People were cheering, clapping and shouting encouragement. Every now and then, the cheering turned into passionate complaints directed at the referee.
The sporting energy and festive vibe was amazing.
Teams had travelled from different parts of Melbourne to play, and the oval remained busy for hours. We had originally planned to spend the morning at the library, but by the time we finally left the oval, we realised we had been watching football for much longer than we intended. On our way to the library, we began noticing other ovals around the suburbs similarly packed with people. There were Australian rules footy games, soccer games, children running around, parents standing along the boundary and sizzling barbecues doing their part to feed the crowds.
It was a different kind of suburban Melbourne.
And, slowly, we started to understand that perhaps we hadn’t moved somewhere boring after all. We had simply been looking for excitement in the wrong places.
The excitement was happening on the ovals.
The sporting culture gradually became part of our weekends. The kids became increasingly interested. Eventually, my two older boys decided they wanted to join the local soccer club.
It was already halfway through the season, so I wasn’t particularly optimistic about finding a place for them. I managed to catch up with Wayne, who was running training sessions for their age group in a nearby club.
Wayne was wearing a baggy cap, over-sized jumper and worn-out soccer shoes. He looked like someone who had spent a very large part of his life around football grounds. He told me there were no places left in the team, but he would still accommodate the boys at training and, if an opportunity came up for a game, they could take it from there. He charged no fee at all – that was Wayne. “Ah, you are late, mate,” he said, “but no need to waste money on stuff and fees, just send them over.”
Whatever his old-school habits, he had an enormous passion for the game and a genuine commitment to the kids.
Then on a Friday night, my jubilant little Socceroos told me that coach Wayne had finally selected them for a game over the weekend. Next, the three of us showed up at the oval in almost ceremonial fashion early in the morning with packed up snacks and brand new pairs of soccer shoes. Throughout the game, Wayne was constantly shouting directions on position and possession from the sidelines: “Why are ya afraid of the ball, mate? Kick it, just kick it!”
I loved watching the boys chasing the ball, dribbling and kicking, and although they lost the game, they still cherish that first opportunity to wear the club colours with their mates.
Over the following weeks, I have watched their enthusiasm grow. They have started looking forward to training days. They talk about football at home with the fever of the last World Cup still lingering. Their usual screen time favourites have moved from brainrots and Roblox to CR7, Messi and Lamine Yamal videos and soccer skills. I’m thrilled to see their skills improve as they begin to feel they belong here and dream of representing Australia in their own ways and capacities.
• Shadi Khan Saif is an editor, producer and journalist who has worked in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Germany and Australia
