This title is perhaps misleading. The bogan does not, in fact, enjoy tennis. Indeed, the bogan is utterly indifferent to tennis for 50 weeks of the year. But, for that shining fourteen days, bogans empty their pockets into the coffers of tennis’ administrators when the Australian Open rolls into town.
Violently ignoring its aristocratic beginnings in the late 19th century, the bogan has ruined yet another event. Champagne and strawberries and cream has been replaced with Heineken and potato wedges, while grace and harmony have been forfeited as weak and unnecessary.
The bogan’s sporadic racism is allowed to enter full bloom during these two weeks, as it selectively filters the global gathering of athletes in order to validate every one of its opinions about places it has never visited. This is best demonstrated by bogans’ attendance at any match containing an Australian. Or someone who was once married to an Australian.
Commentators, fostering this sense of ‘patriotism’, surreptitiously (and by surreptitiously, we mean blatantly and offensively) lend their support to players during their call of the game, by referring to local players by their first names, and spending a great deal of time discussing their excellent play, while dismissing failures as a bit of luck on the part of their opponent. The TV coverage is even better for bogans in recent years as it contains less and less actual tennis, which is substituted for ongoing montages of close-ups of hot chicks hitting shots and grunting to remixed music. Following that will be the ‘Hot Shots’ segment, which distills an entire day’s tennis down to four points which conclude with commentators saying ‘whoa!’
This has hit a progressively larger snag year upon year, as Australian players have sucked more and more. The presence of overtly bogan players amongst the Australian elite has done little to slow the decline of interest in Australian players. As such, the commentators’ attentions had to be lavished on others; to wit, top ten players and attractive female players. The bogan male can therefore spend a great deal of time watching women’s sport – something it never, ever does – perving up ladies’ dresses and skirts under the pretense of enjoying the action. Concurrently, the female bogan can spend a great deal of time watching women’s sport – something it never, ever does – checking out ‘fashion’ under the pretense of enjoying the action.
Having enjoyed the illicit thrill of looking at women’s underwear for some time, the bogan male will then pick up the Herald Sun, Daily Telegraph, or related non-Australian News Corp. paper and glance fleetingly at the headline. This will prompt a long-winded denunciation of the ‘Croatian fuckwits’ behaving like bogans while wearing the wrong flag as a cape, ruining the tennis by getting into fights. Politicians and social commentators then reinforce the belief that foreigners should be banned from watching such a quintessentially Australian sport. The bogan then looks at its watch, realises it’s late for the 20/20 game and leaves. It then returns, sheepishly, one hour later, explaining to all who’ll listen that the security guards at the cricket are all ‘fuckwits’.