Why I took a break from Australian football - Part 1: For the love of the game
- Christian Marchetti
- Jun 9
- 11 min read
It's late March/early April, and only a few weeks are left in the 2024/25 A-League Men season. Until this point, I have, aside from maybe three or four fixtures, watched almost every single minute of every game. It was the most interest and commitment I had shown to any season in my roughly 15 years following Australian football's premier professional competition. And then suddenly, I stopped watching. For a brief period, I didn't care anymore, nor did I want to care.
So what happened? Why did I suddenly put anything associated with the game in my rearview mirror? How can someone supposedly so committed to their passion just let go of the rope without care? Well, that's what I will try to explain in five articles, with what I would say is a multifaceted answer.
I've been a university student for over five years now, on and off, and that was a significant contributor to why you have not seen a written article on Front Page Football since April 4 (geez, that's a while). I'm currently in my final year (thank fuck), and this semester complicated any sort of time I wanted to keep putting into FPF. Honestly, finishing my final three assignments was probably one of the hardest things I've done in my life, particularly when having to finish it amid a disassociation from my passion and the reoccurrence of some previous mental health struggles (which I wish to open up about in greater detail in these articles).
But there was more to it than just university. For years, I have prioritised FPF over university studies. I could have just kept doing it. It kind of feels crazy when I think of the number of times I didn't start an assignment until the day it was due or had to submit one a day late because I had allowed too little time to do it due to spending countless hours on a media platform that does not really generate income for me. I don't know; I guess one day, I woke up and thought, "This isn't worth it at the moment", and had to swallow my pride and take university seriously for once.
For people reading this who have been in situations where you have to choose the thing you must do but aren't interested in over the thing you don't have to do but are interested in, it's a fucking hellhole to be in. Most days for the past two months, having to do university work has felt like I'm walking around with shackles or being metaphorically pulled back by some kind of weighted item.
However, adding to that was a loss of belief in Australian football, the development of a fed-up attitude, and ultimately, a fatigue that built up over that same five-year period. Disillusionment. Why am I still following this? How do I fit into this chaotic landscape? Is working in this field really going to be worth it? Is a career in football media actually viable?
Imagine being 23 with life still ahead of you but bogging yourself down with incessant overthinking about a reality in which you cannot do the very thing you sought to do when you were little. Yeah, it was a dark place to be in.
But I want to get into the weeds of why I started to feel that way about the game, why, for the first time in my life, I actually started to lose faith in the idea that football can thrive in this country (something I always told myself I could help achieve in some way).
To explain this answer, I have to circle back to the beginning. So, what drew me to football, to Australian football? And what made me turn that passion into an independent media platform?
It's funny, but for most of the first seven years of my life, I had very little interest in football or sports. I was aware of it, and now that I remember, I even played briefly at a soccer club in Five Dock (which I believe is now FC Five Dock) when my family lived in Sydney. But I still hadn't had that moment yet where football or even sports as a broader subject had become my one singular passion.
No, I was too interested in waking up at the crack of dawn to build Lego sets and watch cartoons like Ben 10 (and other alien-related, superhero-related shows and movies; yes, I was a bit of a nerd in that sense). Oh, and as I reflect, there was this thing called Bakugan that I really liked; I remember having a bunch of action figures. I remember getting into intense arguments with my cousins and sister (all girls at the time) at our Nonna's house because my animated Cartoon Network programs would overlap with the latest episode of iCarly that they wanted to watch. This is even funnier now because it wasn't long until I watched programs like iCarly with them. Later in my teenage years, I fell in love with more adult sitcoms like Friends, primarily because of my sister.
My dad says that—and I don't remember this—my first football memory was on the morning of Chelsea's heartbreaking Champions League Final loss to Manchester United in 2008. He says because the game had gone all the way to penalties, it was still on in the early hours of that morning as a six-year-old me was waking up. Apparently, when John Terry slipped and missed the penalty that would have given Chelsea their first-ever UCL title, my dad (a lifelong Chelsea fan who had witnessed the previous UCL heartbreaks the club had suffered in seasons prior) got so angry that I started crying, probably because he scared the shit out of me. Thanks, dad. It's almost some spooky sign from the universe that this game, in Moscow at least, was on the day of my birthday: May 21. I have literally just discovered this.

Here's me in a Chelsea home kit, most likely one from the late 2000s. Also seems I'm wearing Socceroos socks? Also, what on earth is going on with that hair.
Anyway, from like 2009 onwards, I started to grow out of the cartoon geekiness and get into sports. Every day, I woke up, went downstairs, and put the TV on Fox Sports News. Rinse and repeat. I attribute that daily dedication to why I have very random knowledge about all kinds of sports, even those I have never actually sat down and watched properly.
And, of course, from there, you start to follow teams more closely and support them. My first sports love was the Adelaide Crows (OMG, how can the football-lover have ever supported AFL WTF; just calm down). I played club footy for a year when I was younger and enjoyed it. In fact, I remember the coach at Payneham Football Club wanting me to play another year. But I think the following year was when I started club 'soccer' (yes, I know, sorry).
I don't have an issue saying that from the perspective of playing and watching, I find AFL enjoyable. Obviously, administration and media biases are separate things. In fact, when I discovered my passion for sport, Bruce McAvaney, who many know for AFL commentary, was arguably the media personality I looked to as a role model. I remember my uncles at family gatherings jokingly calling me "Bruce" because I could recollect tonnes of information about various sports, particularly football and AFL. And I still love the Crows to this day (FlagCrom this year, anyone?).
I also played tennis for about 10 years when I was younger. I wasn't too bad at Taekwondo, and I played some cricket. So yeah, I dabbled in various sports.
But football (respectfully, the real football) took my sports passion to another level.
We started going to more Adelaide United games (where I got a taste of the Red Army, too), and when it wasn't too late, stay up to watch Chelsea games. Yes, I am a Chelsea fan because of the typical 'like father, like son' notion, which probably explains why, I don't know, 70% of football fans worldwide chose their clubs too. None of us can escape that.
I remember when my mum and sister were away one night, and Adelaide was playing North Queensland Fury (R.I.P.) in Townsville. I've just located the game and have seen it was Round 4 of the 2010/11 season. Anyway, I can't remember whether dad and I decided to cook a new dinner recipe or we got Whoppers from Hungry Jack's (we 100% did that for a game once). But we did something different and then sat down and watched Adelaide win 3-2.
I remember us celebrating the Adelaide goals like crazy. From memory, this was a big game for Red Wig Steve's publicity. I think it also resonates because it was the first time I felt that whole ordeal of prepping your evening or day around a game (which all of us passionate about sports do). You ensure you've eaten before the match starts and there are no distractions so you can be "locked in" to your team's performance. Sports and football began to feel important to me.
I've just noticed that six days later was the stage for one of my earliest Chelsea memories. August-October 2010 must have been the turning point for me and football. We played Arsenal, and it was in the early timeslot on Fox Sports (if you never got to enjoy the old Matchday Saturday set-up on Fox, I pity you). Didier Drogba put us ahead just before half-time, and, clinging onto a precarious lead with five minutes to play, Brazilian defender Alex stepped up to a free-kick and blasted one of the best swerving thunderbastard goals I've ever seen live.
I don't know why, but this moment lives in my head rent-free. I think it's that moment in a football match where you're unsure whether your team will win. Your nervous energy is at an extreme level. Then, once the ball goes in to secure the three points, the celebration is amplified by that stress release. But it was also about witnessing how a goal of such significance is celebrated in England, that embodiment of total euphoria. It's a religion.
To this day, whenever I watch highlights of matches with electric atmospheres, whether in England or elsewhere, when a goal goes in, I immediately look behind the stands to witness the scenes, or the "limbs", as many call them. I could even close my eyes, just listen to the noise, and enjoy it. There's nothing like football fandom, nothing.
I think it was at that moment when I started to think to myself, "I want to experience this as much as I possibly can", and so, can you experience it in your backyard instead of through a TV watching a game on the other side of the world?
It was probably from there that I also started to think about playing the game seriously. I eventually did to varying degrees of success. My dad coached me in primary school and later at club level. I'd need to write a separate article explaining the pros and cons of a father-son coach-player relationship to get into the details. As you can imagine, it wasn't always smooth sailing. But one thing I've come to realise is that without my father, I'd never have even cared about football in the first place.
In primary school, I was getting an apprenticeship in the game as a part of a superstar-laden team. We had loads of talented guys who won games by themselves and scored ridiculous goals every week. We only tasted defeat three times across Years 4, 5, and 6. The best part was Year 4. Our games would be straight after school on Fridays. Remember when you were in school and, during the final two lessons of the day, started itching to leave because you had something to look forward to straight afterwards?
We'd do our own "pitch inspection" between classes if we played at home. That feeling of excitement and anticipation at that age is unparalleled. Frankly, it fucking ruled.
Later, I played club at Adelaide Blue Eagles, Adelaide City, and then returned to Blue Eagles for one last season. It was much less successful and way more frustrating. I remember one highlight was scoring a long-range screamer in a trial match against Metro for Adelaide City and then running to the corner to do one of those Jurgen Klopp-esque fist-pump celebrations (it was a fucking trial match, pump the brakes, mate). A lowlight, an understatement, was going a whole season winless. This season ultimately pushed me away from club football.
This is usually how I react to Chelsea goals or to certain Crows moments btw. Psycho.
However, I retrieved my joy from playing the game during my final years at high school. I was a Second XI player, so by no means was that good, but I impacted games, and we won a lot. Crucially, high school was rough for me. I was bullied, I never felt totally comfortable, and in Year 12, from about March, all I could think of was finishing and getting the fuck out of there. When I finished, I later went to therapy for some minor depression I was dealing with. So, I think when I played football every Saturday, it was a way to shut people up and take my anger from school out on the opponent. In a way, that kind of drew me closer to the game. My school was (and probably still is) a heavily footy-cricket-dominant establishment, so being a soccer-tennis guy like I was probably didn't help regarding inclusion.
To summarise what I have learned from my football fandom and playing career, I think sports allow us to act irrationally when we have to be rational for most of our everyday lives. You can jump and down like a madman when your team scores a goal, hug a stranger, swear at the TV, and no one cares (well, they shouldn't). As a player, you can swear without it meaning anything, celebrate like you've scored a World Cup-winning goal, and be heartbroken without having to be in a relationship. Your relationship is with the sport. There's almost a beauty in that. Being involved in sports is fundamentally about escaping to a different world.
But crucially, it's about believing in something, and it provides a purpose to your life. I realise that now. Having a shit week? Ok, can the Crows win? Can Chelsea win? Please? And you throw every ounce of passion into advocating for that outcome.
But with football, it was always different for me. I don't know whether it was from growing up listening to many people doubt Australian football, a lot of people doubting my ability as a player, or staunchly defending Chelsea to my mates in high school every time they had a bad result. But it's like it became about proving a point, like a "no no no, you don't understand, you don't understand the weight and gravity of this sport", because, to me, there are times when it feels bigger than life itself.
What has helped me is being surrounded by people in my life who also love football. In the case of Australian football, maintaining interest by watching people who have worked at the top level of the game and have experienced incredible highs and excruciating lows still believe. I'm fortunate in that sense. Maybe there's something out there surrounding me with people of a similar passion to tell me to keep going because being in this game is my life's purpose. I don't believe in God, so I'll leave that to others.
Or maybe those memories we all cling to about the game keep driving us to endure its setbacks and keep going. NSL moments, Aloisi's penalty against Uruguay, Cahill's double against Japan, Leckie's winner against Denmark, Behich’s stunner against Japan, Vine's penalty against France, Kerr's goal against England, Roarcelona, the early days of the Western Sydney Wanderers, the Del Piero era, every Sydney and Melbourne Derby, Original Rivalry, Grand Final sell-out, and for some of us, even something as simple as seeing your son or daughter score their first goal at the grassroots level.
Why do we cling to these moments? We can all remember how we felt at that time. But it was that feeling where you would trick yourself into thinking everything was good with the game at that moment or that the game could build from it; the occasional peak we get into a healthier, stronger, thriving Australian football.
Maybe I can think back to those early days when I experienced the A-League for the first time or when I was bullied by AFL/cricket types because they didn't respect me for my interests. Maybe it sparks that feeling of "Oh, that's how you think, then watch me change the narrative" within me. Shoutout to Michael Jordan (lol). There are other things which I will detail in future articles.
For many, particularly at a media level, I sense you just throw yourself into the next assignment, game, whatever it may be, without really thinking about what draws you to keep supporting the sport in an environment where it often feels pointless to do so. That is passion. That is love. I can't explain how much I respect and admire that.
But I momentarily lost that passion and love, and now I'm trying to rediscover it. I want to rediscover it.
Comments