Christopher Cuellar took the plunge almost 12 years ago.
Newly arrived in Montreal, the Australian was looking for social contacts. So he showed up at an Australian football training session in Montreal. At that time, he was afraid that his new teammates would discover his homosexuality.
To make sure his secret was kept, he made a very special request to his boyfriend.
“I told him to hide, to stay away from the field,” Cuellar said, his eyes sad. “I didn’t want to cause trouble, but I was also afraid that people would be aggressive, homophobic. I had no idea what I was getting into.”
As he talks, his boyfriend is sitting a few meters away, in the stands of one of the fields of the André-Grasset college. Today, he is a well-known figure at the club, a friend.
When I think back to when I first started, it’s crazy. I wonder why I was so worried. It took a year for my boyfriend to meet the whole team. Now that I’ve done that, I feel a lot more comfortable.
Christopher Cuellar
This apprehension is shared by many members of the community. Some opt for leagues exclusive to LGBTQ+ people. Otherwise, they fear feeling excluded.
“It’s often due to past trauma,” Cuellar said. “Some of us were bullied, ridiculed in the locker room before gym class, or just weren’t picked.”
The Australian Football League (AFL) of Quebec is well aware of this phenomenon. It is working hard to ensure that the community feels included. It is rolling out the red carpet for them.
Every year, she participates in the Pride parade, in addition to organizing her own party, where she sells rainbow-colored items. Since 2017, she has been affiliated with Team Montreal, whose mission is to create an inclusive environment for LGBTQ+ sports athletes in Montreal.
Social mix
This desire for inclusion is not limited to sexual diversity. In Australian football, or footyas they call it, everyone is welcome, without exception. And it shows. Between matches, the players greet each other, hug each other, laugh.
Their looks are striking. They come in all sizes, weights and appearances. Some seem to have spent the night in a raveothers in the library. Nothing seems to connect these people. Nothing, except the footy.
If it weren’t for their jerseys, you would never guess that these people all belong to the same team.
“It makes me feel so good to come here,” says Anna Reader. “I work in the music business, so I often meet people in bars. Here, the players have serious jobs, children. They’re not the type of people I would normally meet.”
Indeed, with her dreadlocks, Anna Reader looks more like an artist than an athlete. When asked if she is a good player, she is categorical. “No, not at all!” she says, bursting into laughter.
“I like the social aspect, fitness, sports, but I’m not competitive at all. It doesn’t motivate me at all, she admits. I want to come here to enjoy the summer sun, run, laugh and have fun.”
The ball to find yourself
A native of Brisbane, Australia, Mme Reader was traveling around the world when her journey led her to Montreal. Short on funds, she decided to settle in Quebec, working there for two years.
Culture shock and the language barrier made it difficult for her to integrate. “When you’re in your thirties, it’s harder to make new friends. Most travelers’ instinct is to find expat groups on social media.”
About one in six AFL players is Australian-born. Like them, most join the league to build a social network.
Many of us are here to make Australian friends. Speaking French is a big challenge for us. I’m trying to learn, I have the best intentions, but I’m just terrible.
Tim Leser
“As expats, we understand each other on this. It’s good to be able to share our experience.”
Tim was traveling around the world when he met his sweetheart in Japan. A Quebecer. So it was to follow her that he came to La Belle Province.
An armchair athlete, he always followed Australian football. It was only in Japan, then in Quebec, that he started playing.
In fact, several Australian members of AFL Quebec had never played Australian football, or almost never, before arriving in Canada. However, they know the rules of the sport. They use this knowledge as a point of attachment, in a country they know little about.
This is particularly the case for Rebecca Cameron. “When I saw that there were free practices, I said to myself: why not? I don’t do anything here, I don’t know anyone,” she explains.
Rebecca arrived in Quebec two years ago. She made the big jump to the province to follow her boyfriend, a native of Baie-Comeau. Her beginnings in the country were not easy.
“I was a little homesick. This community helps me a lot. When you know you’re having a bad day, you know you’re not alone in going through it,” she says.
Violent and complicated? No way
Rebecca’s tone is gentle as she tells her story. It is thoughtful, calm. We are far from suspecting that a few minutes ago, she was fiercely pursuing her opponents, tackling them, trying to vigorously snatch the ball from them.
How does she manage to change her attitude from one second to the next on the field? “Well, you know, I particularly like that, winning,” she says with a laugh.
When we think of Australian rules football, violence immediately comes to mind. However, it is a very different spectacle that we are witnessing.
The rules have been changed over the years to protect players. Late tackles are punished much more severely. It’s pretty rare for players to get hurt.
Morgan Whyte, AFL President
But another stereotype about the sport is true: Australian rules football is complicated. “Every time someone comes in, they’re completely confused. They start running around like a chicken with no head,” laughs Morgan Whyte. “After two weeks, all the players get into the rhythm.”
Fortunately, as almost all of the players have never played Australian rules football, they are all starting on the same footing.
“You’re jumping, you’re kicking, you’re catching, you’re running. Your brain is never stopping working on defense,” Whyte said. “It’s hard to find a more exciting sport.”
A league under reconstruction
When the representative of The Press walks around the field, most of the players stop him. They all ask him if he wants to play. Not train: join a team, play an official match, here, now. Yet they know that this is the first time in his life that he sees an Australian rules football. He is far from the athlete ready to smash everything.
These invitations are explained by the great hospitality of the players. But also, by the recent setbacks of the league. The pandemic will have stripped it of half of its players. Today, it has 90.
“We’re nowhere near where we were before,” Mr Whyte admits.
Morgan Whyte had the same journey as his players. At first, Australian football was just a pretext to fraternize. It eventually allowed him to create a social circle. And to meet his partner, with whom he had two children.
“The league means a lot to me, so I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get it back to where it was before. Australian football has given me almost everything in life,” he concluded.
Australian Football 101
Four posts allow the two teams, composed of 18 players, to score points. A ball sent between the two posts in the center is worth six points. Only one point is awarded if it passes through the outer posts.
Australian football is normally played on a very large oval field. It can measure from 135 to 185 metres in length and 110 to 115 metres in width. In Quebec, the game is played on a much smaller rectangular field.
The Australian rules football is smaller than the rugby ball, and more elongated. It measures approximately 20 cm wide and 35 cm long.