Photos by Jesse Maskell
The two scoreboards at South Morang, on Melbourne’s northern edges, each have a tale to tell.
The old scoreboard looks a little lonely and forlorn, despite the sturdy steel steps. It looks a little abandoned, a little forgotten. Like radiograms when television appeared. Like record players when CDs came in. Like CD players when iPods popped up. Like drive-ins when videos came in. Like milk bars when ‘convenience’ stores started taking over old petrol station corners. Like newspapers when the interweb arrived.
The razzle-dazzle new scoreboard, with its fancy lights, has company. Footy fans milling around it like moths to a globe. So it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut used to say. So it goes.
I’d like to live in that old scoreboard.
Me too. With a radiogram in one corner and black and white telly in the other.