The Lord of the Pool

Pool Footy is barbaric, brutal, savage, vicious, ruthless and merciless, and I love it for some reason. That is, until an accidental clash of heads results in my nose bleeding.

It has become a tradition, Tim Campbell explains how:

Pool footy can be traced all the way back to Christmas 2000 where a motley group of rowdy uni students couldn't sleep on Christmas eve (due to Santa Claus coming) and a swim at the Adams family pool quickly became a full-blooded contact sport (and I do mean full-blooded). Since then, most combatants spend the year secretly honing their fending skills and developing an immunity to many pool chemicals.

Innovation out of necessity I call it. Tim is actually flying up from Melbourne especially for this, plus the minor allure of family and all that.

Pool Footy does not discriminate. Our tackling knows no race, gender or creed. We are equal opportunity hitting machines. Some girls are game enough to play, this is fine, as long as they realise that there is no softness in the field of battle.

As for rules, I call on Mr Campbell once again:

The ball can be passed in any direction (including misdirection... that's right - you can hide the ball in your shorts if you're prepared to having people grabbing at it), anyone can be tackled, and a try is scored by touching the ball at the opposing end of the pool. If you're thinking to yourself "these rules don't actually limit anything - meaning there are no rules", you are absolute correct! THERE ARE NO RULES! All compressed into the cauldron like atmosphere of a backyard swimming pool.

So all TAC SNC people are officially invited. Any others that we know of (no blow ins please) that need their 2006 Pool Footy fix just let me know and you’ll receive your entry pass to the “Hammerdome” as Tim C puts it.