Whatever happens on the far side, professional sport cannot come back pretending it’s as important as when it left now that we’ve seen a world without it
For a while when the coronavirus first hit Australia, the main concern was apparently for professional sport. Footy might die, was the summation from the suits in charge. Footy could mean any code, take your pick. In a country shut down, the empty streets meant empty grandstands, empty changerooms, empty training fields. Any game that ceased its frantic treadmill would cease to exist. Forget planning for the other side of the crisis, there was no other side to reach.
It’s April now and in the south the weather has started to turn, interspersing an hour of sun on yellow maple leaves or early wattle blossom with the first cold fronts lashing the Victorian coast. My mind and my year should be turning to football, deep enough into the season to start worrying about an early trend, a half-back’s ankle, a road trip coming up.
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