Crossing all four winter codes, The Bad Boys of Footy shines a critical light on the tales of a host contemporary footballing miscreants those who've tripped up, boozed, lied, cheated, whacked, thumped, kicked, scratched, frittered, robbed, and bottomed out.
Crossing all four winter codes, The Bad Boys of Footy shines a critical light on the tales of a host contemporary footballing miscreants those who've tripped up, boozed, lied, cheated, whacked, thumped, kicked, scratched, frittered, robbed, and bottomed out.
We read about footballers every day. We celebrate their physical feats, their freakish athleticism, their guile and poise. We rejoice in their glories. We feel their hurt. We share their tears.
But more and more, football is not enough.
Nowadays off-field behaviour steals more than its share of column space. Private lives are no longer. Mistakes are magnified. And we in the outer are voyeurs. We delve for details. We delight in knowing everything. We are judge and juror. Sometimes we are executioner. And when footballers stumble our damnation is usually ruthless. In the end we measure men to a standard we'd never come close to matching ourselves.
Everybody screws up.
Of course they do.
But no one screws up like a modern day gladiator.
Crossing all four winter codes, The Bad Boys of Footy shines a critical light on the tales of a host contemporary footballing miscreants those who've tripped up, boozed, lied, cheated, whacked, thumped, kicked, scratched, frittered, robbed, and bottomed out.
We read about footballers every day. We celebrate their physical feats, their freakish athleticism, their guile and poise. We rejoice in their glories. We feel their hurt. We share their tears.
But more and more, football is not enough.
Nowadays off-field behaviour steals more than its share of column space. Private lives are no longer. Mistakes are magnified. And we in the outer are voyeurs. We delve for details. We delight in knowing everything. We are judge and juror. Sometimes we are executioner. And when footballers stumble our damnation is usually ruthless. In the end we measure men to a standard we'd never come close to matching ourselves.
Everybody screws up.
Of course they do.
But no one screws up like a modern day gladiator.
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