Sticker shock

When I first arrived in Australia I was astounded at how much things cost. At the time, the US Dollar was quite strong in comparison to the Australian Dollar, but even still the prices for everyday things seemed quite expensive.


After living here for 8 years, I guess I have become accustomed to the cost of living. This week, however, we've been hosting a visitor from the USA and she's been clearly surprised at how much certain items cost here. So for your reading pleasure and for the wannabe economist in me, I thought I'd price a small basket of goods here in Oz and compare them to the same or roughly equivalent items in the USA. This was an interesting exercise (well for my inner geek anyway, sorry to bore the rest of you). I've made a list below of the items I've compared. The price that appears in RED is the price of that item in Australia in Australian dollars. The price in GREEN is the Australian price converted to US Dollars (at the current conversion rate of 1 AUD =. 9524 USD). The price in BLUE is the American price in US Dollars.

Milk-light
$4.59/2 litres = $4.36
$2.79/half gallon

Milk-whole
$3.66/2 litres = $3.48
$2.79/half gallon


Bread-wholemeal
$4.73 = $4.50
$3.79


Cereal-All Bran
$3.88/12 oz = $3.69
$3.99/18 oz


Bananas
$2.99/kg = $2.84
$1.82/kg


Lettuce-iceberg
$1.25 each = $1.18
$1.79 each


McDonald's Big Mac
$3.95 = $3.75
$3.65


Petrol/Gasoline
$6.01/gallon = $5.71
$3.91/gallon

I guess the lesson here is I should buy more iceberg lettuce since it's such a bargain!

Out of sight, out of mind...well, until someone points it out to you.

Having lived in Australia for the past 8 years, there are plenty of things from home (in this case, Texas) that I've forgone or forgotten. I think my initial years here were more difficult in this sense.

I remember being surprised when I first visited the local grocery store, Safeway. The name was familiar. There was a stage in my youth when we had a Safeway in my Texas town. I thought, This is a good sign. Maybe this Safeway will be very much like an American grocery store and all my faves will be there. Two steps inside the entrance and I knew I was naive to even entertain such thoughts. This place was small. I found the aisles quite narrow and there simply weren't that many of them. I think from one side of the store to the other there may have been 8 aisles and they weren't long. This was the kind of grocery store you'd expect to find in a very small town in the USA, not in a large city like Melbourne.

The next thing I noticed was the selection was extremely limited. It didn't seem to matter what item you were searching for, you'd only find two to three brands of it. I was used to having a plethora of choices in the grocery store I shopped at in the USA.

Upon further inspection, I realised a lot of my favourite items from the USA simply weren't on the shelves here. This meant many of my favourite recipes were next to impossible to cook as their ingredients simply weren't available.

Initially I was a bit distraught that I couldn't get my favourite food items and that I could only choose between Brand A and Brand B for all the other items I was buying, but I guess the longer you live somewhere the more you get used to what is on offer. Over time, I began to acquire Australian cookbooks that called for ingredients that were locally available and I learned some simple substitutes for a few of my American recipes. The recipes I could no longer make or items I couldn't find simply got shuffled slowly out of my mind and replaced with all the new local food I was experiencing. So much so that, after awhile, when people would ask what food I missed from home, I'd be hard pressed to remember exactly what it was I'd been missing.

As time passed and my tenure in Australia continued, I began to discover specialty stores that sold some coveted items from the USA. The only problem with these sorts of stores is that they charge exorbitant prices for items you pay very little for in the USA. For instance, a standard box of Cheerios (a breakfast cereal I'd loved dearly in the USA) at the specialty store would cost $15 AUD. Highway robbery if you ask me. Sometimes I'd be desperate enough for an item to pay the outrageous prices, but for the most part I tried to steer clear of the money pits that were these stores. That is until someone would remind me they were there...

We received a surprise visitor from the USA on Saturday. Since our guest's arrival, we've been discussing all the things we might have requested from the USA had we known she was coming. So much so that today she and I had to drive across town to the USA Foods speciality store and pay the outrageous prices for those items I decided I couldn't go a minute longer without having.

Here's a small sample of what we bought:

As soon as we got home, we ripped these babies open and here's what I did with them:

Put those Graham Crackers on a plate

Topped them with a few squares of the Hershey's Chocolate.

Then topped the chocolate with a warm toasty marshmallow. Can you see the chocolate melting?

Place another Graham Cracker on top and you've got yourself a S'more!! Melt in your mouth goodness. Yum, yum, yum!

Box of Graham Crackers $9.99

Hershey Bar $1.80

Marshmallows $3.00

The satisfying feeling of gooey chocolate and stringy marshmallow dripping from your chin? Priceless.

Footy Tipping

One lovely March afternoon, I walked into a meeting at work and saw one of my colleagues busily collecting money from everyone else sitting at the table. When he saw me he said, "Are you interested in signing up for the footy tipping this year?" This was my first proper job in Australia and I'd only been there since January so I'd never heard of this whole footy tipping thing. So as per my usual, I had to quickly confess my ignorance. You get used to that after awhile. Nothing like living in a foreign country to make you feel like a dumbass 80% of the time.

Me: "Sorry, I'm not familiar with footy tipping? Can someone enlighten me?"

Work Colleague: With a great deal of enthusiasm, "Oh yeah, no worries. Footy tipping is just a betting competition we run for the footy. Everyone puts in $22 and then each week you submit your tips. We'll have jackpots for each round and there will be prizes for the people that finish the top of the ladder at the end of the season."

Me: This sounds a bit complicated and I don't know anything about the footy. "What are tips exactly?"

WC: Chuckling slightly, "Oh the tips are just who you think will win each game. Surely you guys bet on the football in America?"

Me: Yeah I remember being in an illegal football pool in high school and getting busted by our Geometry teacher, but that was a long time ago, and I'm reformed now. Which is actually a good point, is this even legal? (a legitimate concern for someone on a temporary visa)"Yeah people do bet on the football. We call it a pool. I can't remember ever participating in one at work though. Isn't this organised gambling really? I guess what I'm trying to say is what does the boss think of this?"

WC: Smiling and shaking his head at the same time. "You Yanks really are a funny bunch aren't you? I guess it is organised gambling in a way, but everyone here participates. The boss asked me to organise it. We do it every year. So are you in or what?"

Me: "Won't I be disadvantaged because I know nothing about the footy?"

WC: "Not necessarily. It depends on the season really. Sometimes there are a lot of upsets and no one is very good a predicting them so it might actually be to your advantage."

Me: Feeling slightly obliged to participate in this ritual if for no other reason than the sheer sake of fitting in. "Ok, you've sold me. I'm in."

And that was the beginning of my foray into the world of footy tipping. I started off the season quite well. There are eight matches played each week and if you successfully picked all eight winners correctly, you get paid out a certain amount depending on how many people also picked the eight and how long it had been since someone last picked eight. I know, I know it's all so confusing.

I did manage to get all eight right during one of the rounds in the middle of the season, but unfortunately, so did a few of my other colleagues so we had to split the jackpot--I think we each got about $5 back or something.

By the time the end of the season rolled around, I was doing really poorly and usually only picking one or two winners a week. I didn't care though because I was having fun. The footy tipping was always the talk of the office on Friday afternoons as everyone was submitting their picks for that weekend's games. Then on Monday morning everyone would check to see how they'd gone in comparison to everyone else.

In America I remember lots of my male friends being in football pools or Super Bowl pools, etc with their mates--ie other guys. I don't, however, remember knowing a lot of women that were getting together and betting on sports. In Australia though, men and women alike were equally engaged in the footy. The women in my workplace took their footy tipping very seriously. Their love for footy went beyond the footy tipping competition though, a lot of these women were die hard fans of particular teams. They attended the matches on a regular basis. I was amazed.

As for the gambling side of things...no one here seemed to care. The Australians, from what I could glean, were a lot more relaxed about this sort of thing--especially in the work place. The more people I talked to, the more I realised that everyone was in a footy tipping comp whether they followed the footy or not, and almost everyone did their footy tipping through work.

I got used to the idea that people at work were almost universally involved in the footy tipping, but the one that really shocked me was when I found out the Handsome Australian's brother was involved in a school sanctioned footy tipping competition. He was in high school at the time (at a Catholic School I might add) and each kid was allowed to put in $5 and participate. They would have winners for each round and a jackpot at the end as well. I was astounded by this. I asked the Handsome Australian about it and he didn't see what all the fuss was. They are just kids having a good time like the rest of us. No one seemed to be bothered besides me.

Eight years later, I still think it's a strange thing for kids in schools to be doing, but if there is one thing I've learned in all my years in Australia it's, if you can't beat them, join them! So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to see how I've fared this week!

Learn the Lingo
footy tipping=a betting pool where participants try to predict the winners of weekly football matches
footy tips=the teams you pick to win the games
no worries=no problem
Yanks=Americans

But Mum, I really wanted to watch the game...and other confessions.

"But Mum, I really wanted to watch the game." These are the words my beautiful four year old muttered in protest as she was being tucked snugly into her bed this evening. The game in question is Geelong vs. Port Adelaide being played in Adelaide as I write this. The Handsome Australian is still a die hard Geelong fan and he has made it his mission in life to ensure that any offspring he produces follow in his Geelong loving footsteps.

After the scandal I created by choosing to barrack for Carlton all those years ago, I think the Handsome Australian decided he needed to buckle down and make sure the rest of 'our family' went his way. I don't begrudge him this dream, I think every guy wants to pass the love of his favourite team on to his kids. In the Handsome Australian's case, this has been extremely important (particularly in the last year as Geelong has been cruising at the top of the ladder and actually walked away with the Premiership at the end of the 2007 season--but don't call him fair weather, he takes offense to that. Trust me.).

He began by teaching both of our children the battle cry, "GO THE CATS!!" This is what Geelong fans will shout out during a game in support of their team. The Australians have a funny way of adding a "THE" between the "GO" and "CATS". It used to sound extremely strange to me when I first arrived, but now it's just second nature. Our four year old has been able to shout these words at the top of her lungs for a couple of years now. Our nearly two year old made his "GO THE CATS" debut only a few months ago. I think it's safe to say that hearing the children chanting this phrase over and over at the dinner table makes the Handsome one's heart swell with pride.

Next he taught our daughter the Geelong Song--oh yes, there is a song! Did I forget to mention that each AFL team has their own goofy little song? Well, they do! When a particular team wins a game, their club's song is played over the PA at the stadium and all the supporters sing it. Once the players of the winning team are off the field and back in the locker room after the game, they form a circle and sing the club song at the top of their lungs. Don't laugh!! The fans take this very seriously and the networks actually televise this. It's a ritual.

As luck would have it, our daughter loves music and took to the song like a duck to water. Unfortunately, she couldn't always remember the words so I'd constantly hear, "Mum, can we sing the Geelong song again?" To which I'd have to oblige and sing the song for her--over and over and over again. I can sing the Geelong song backwards in my sleep hanging upside down from the monkey bars at the local park if I need to. Maybe that's a new party trick I should put on the resume...

With the team propaganda sorted and our children suitably brainwashed, the Handsome Australian began to explain some of the finer points of the game to them while he sat on the edge of his seat about three inches from the TV screen as Geelong played game after game. The four year old can recognise 'goals' as well as 'marks' while her younger brother is still clutching to basics like, "ball", "man", "running". Don't worry though, he's a clever kid and he'll get there.

About a month ago, the Handsome Australian decided that the four year old was ready to experience her first Geelong Game in the flesh. He picked an afternoon game at the 'MCG' (Melbourne Cricket Ground) on a dismal winter's day. It was about 11 degrees Celsius (that's about 51 degrees Fahrenheit) with patches of rain. I rugged her up in five different layers and sent a blanket along with her. She was beside herself with excitement at the prospect of attending her first footy match with her dear old Dad. The Handsome Australian was beaming too. They were quite the giddy little pair. The mother in me was concerned about the weather and my little one's exposure to the elements for several hours at what I might describe as a 'boring footy match', but I couldn't deny them this experience. So, off they went.

She LOVED it!!! She LOVED it!!! Upon returning home she informed me that 1) yes she was warm enough 2)no, Daddy did not buy her any hot chips (that's Aussie for french fries) but she did manage to wrangle a hot chocolate out of him 3) Geelong won the game and 4) her favourite part was when the mascots took the field at the beginning and when they got to sing the Geelong song at the end of the game. Then she proceeded to sing the song for the rest of the day...and the day after that, and the day after that.

She didn't want to go to bed tonight because she wanted to watch her beloved Geelong with her beloved Dad. She's four. Help! Imagine how passionate she's going to be when she gets older. Yikes. I wasn't expecting the Handsome Australian's brainwashing regime to be this effective. He's got skills I never even knew about.

Here's the thing though, all this Geelong stuff, it's starting to rub off on me. How can I look in the dewy eyes of my two little lambs and tell them that Mommy barracks for Carlton? They'll hate me forever. I think I'm quietly being converted to a Geelong supporter...did I just say that? Damn he's good! Whatever you do, don't mention this to the Handsome Australian. I'll NEVER live it down!

Learn the Lingo
barrack=root
mark=to quote Wikipedia, "A mark is a skill in Australian rules football where a player cleanly catches a kicked ball that has travelled more than 15 metres without anyone else touching it or the ball hitting the ground"
MCG= Melbourne Cricket Ground, affectionately referred to by most as "The G".
Mum=Mom
hot chips=french fries

Samosas and Scandal

Have you ever had to tell someone you love something you know is going to break their heart? The kind of thing that you know will go to the very depths of their soul and smash it into tiny bits in one fell swoop? How do you go about breaking such news? Do you try and soften it somehow? Do you say it directly? Do you avoid it all together and hope they'll find out somehow on their own? These are difficult questions to answer, particularly when you are talking about the footy...

Once I'd completed the step by step scientific process of choosing a footy team to barrack for in Australia, I had to break the news to my boyfriend, the Handsome Australian. I knew he wouldn't take it well, especially since I had chosen to barrack for a rival team, the Carlton Blues, and not the team that he'd poured his dedication, passion and devotion into for the last 20 years, the Geelong Cats.

I chose the softly, softly approach. I waited until we went out to dinner one night at his favourite restaurant. The Handsome Australian loves Indian cuisine so we went to one of the many great places Melbourne has to offer. We had ordered our dinner and were nibbling away on the entrees (that's Australian for appetizer...well, to be fair it's really a French word meaning entry or entrance and while I question the Australian use and spelling of many words, I have to say I'm with them on this one. It just makes sense that entree would be the first dish you'd have in a meal but I digress....) a lovely plate of samosas, chicken tikka and vegetable pakoras. The Handsome Australian was clearly enjoying himself so I thought, Now's as good a time as any...

Me: Casually, "So I've been having a think about this whole crazy obsession everyone in this town seems to have with the footy."

HA: Far too interested in the food to understand the magnitude of what was about to pass from my lips, "Yeah?"

Me: Realising his obsession with the food might allow me to sneak this past him without a great deal of drama, "Yeah and I decided that it was time that I chose a team to barrack for as well. I mean I don't want to feel left out of it or anything."

HA: Looking up as he takes a bite out of a pakora and saying very unfussed, "Oh well, that's easy. You can barrack for Geelong like I do. They're a great team. They can use all the supporters they can get this year."

Me: Realising that I might not slip this under the radar like I had first anticipated, "Yeah I've thought about that. Your brothers have sung their praises to me in many a conversation. I know you all love some guy named Abbott or...

HA: Cutting me off before I could finish, "Ablett. You mean Ablett. Gary Ablett or GOD as we like to call him. Greatest player ever to take the field for Geelong or any team for that matter. Do you know how many goals he kicked in his career?"

Me: Not sure if that was a rhetorical question or I was supposed to answer, but wanting to continue with my mission regardless, "No, I don't really know how many goals he kicked, but I know your brothers worship him and they made me watch some video the other day from the 1989 Grand Final. Um yeah, he's not that good looking you know."

HA: In disbelief, "Good looking? Good looking? You are talking about one of the greatest footballers of all time. Who cares if he's good looking. He was a bloody good footballer."

Me: Wondering if the Handsome Australian always looks this irritated when eating pakoras or if perhaps it's just this conversation. Hmm. Soldiering on, "Well, 'bloody good footballer' or not, your brothers said he's retired now and doesn't play for Geelong anymore so I couldn't factor that in to my choice of a team to support. Sorry."

HA: Looking confused and probably beginning to wonder where this whole conversation is heading, "Well it doesn't matter what factors you considered as long as Geelong was the conclusion you came to, you'll be right."

Me: Uh-oh you handsome thing, prepare yourself, "Well darling, I considered many factors and I did quite a bit of research. You'd be proud of me--really you would--and well, you see I've come to the conclusion that I will be barracking for Carlton."

HA: Spitting out a bit of chicken tikka, eyes popping out of his head, "You are barracking for WHO? Carlton? Are you SERIOUS? Get outta here--you can't barrack for Carlton. They may be going okay this season, but they've got nothin' on Geelong. How'd you come to this anyway?"

Me: Wondering how much of my scientific method I should explain to him. Tactfully, "I'd really rather not reveal my method but please understand this isn't a decision I take lightly. I've really put some deep thought into this (does drooling over photos of SOS count as thought?) and I just want you to respect my choice."

HA: Smiling cynically, "Ok, fine. You want to barrack for Carlton? Go ahead, barrack for Carlton. But keep in mind that I barrack for Geelong, my brothers barrack for Geelong, my Uncles barrack for Geelong--my entire extended family barracks for Geelong and the Geelong games are the only games we are going to go and see. So you can join us in our love for the greatest club in the comp (that's Aussie for competition) and come along to the games and enjoy yourself or you can sell yourself short and become a Bluebagger (slang for Carlton supporter) and go to the one game of the season when Geelong plays Carlton and we kick your arse (that's Aussie for ass).

Me: What? Did he just say I'd only get to go to one game if I barrack for Carlton? Sweet. This whole Carlton thing has worked out better than I thought it would. "Well, I know it's hard for you to take, but I'm going to stick with the Blues. I'm willing to accept the fact that I may only be able to attend one game this year. I'd rather that than having to compromise my personal choice just to jump on your bandwagon."

HA: "Done."

Me: "Done."

Learn the Lingo
entree=appetizer
comp=competition
Bluebagger=Carlton supporter
arse=ass

The oh so scientific method of choosing a footy team

After my embarrassing conversation with the Handsome Australian's brother about which team I had chosen to support in the new and mysterious world of Aussie Rules football, I felt it was time that I put my loyalties somewhere. After all, the Handsome Australian's brother was right when he said EVERYONE had a team--everyone did. Everywhere you went, it was almost always the second or third question you'd get asked when meeting someone new--Who do you barrack for? And the obsession with Aussie Rules (in Victoria anyway) didn't have a gender divide--both women and men, boys and girls were equally passionate about their footy.

So I set about the task of choosing a team to barrack for.

Now, there are several ways one can go about choosing a football team to support:

Firstly, you might ask your friends who they support and just jump on their bandwagon. At this particular point in my Australian tenure, I didn't know too many people beyond the Handsome Australian and his immediate family. When asked about the footy, they were adamant that I would be barracking for Geelong. End of story. To do otherwise would be to fly in the face of reason and would be seen as a personal affront to the Geelong loving dynasty the Handsome one's Uncle had started so many years ago when the family first immigrated to the lucky country and fell in love with the Blue and White hoops of Geelong.

So decision made right? I know nothing about the game. I should just go along with the Handsome Australian and his family and their love for Geelong surely.

But alas, I'm not one of those girls who just says yes. I'm my own person and I was determined to decide for myself and not be told who I would barrack for (because I really cared oh so much about this life changing decision...sure.)

So I decided I should weigh up other options...

Another possible method for choosing a footy team could be based on the win/loss record at the time of choosing. You obviously want to choose a winning side and what is a better determinant of that than a winning record? Go here to see how the ladder (that's Australian for standings) ended up in 1999 (the year in which I was making this choice). You'll notice if you follow the link, that Geelong finished number 11 out of 16. Do they sound like winners to you? No, I didn't think so either. So that cast even more doubt on Geelong being the right choice. I'm not a loser, I'm a winner!

The ladder was a good way to become acquainted with the different teams--the ones near the top that is. But you can't just choose on record alone.


There are many other important factors that must be considered, like the guernsey (that's Australian for jersey) colours and design for instance. Yes, I think that is an extremely important factor indeed.

It wouldn't be right if I didn't take note of the fashions on the field right? So I had a look at the teams in the top half of the ladder and began to take a critical look at their guernseys. Here were some of my choices (I won't bore you with them all, but if you are keen you can follow the link and have a look at all of them here).

This is the Essendon Bombers guernsey. They finished at the top of the ladder, but didn't go on to win the Premiership (that's the Aussie Rules equivalent of the Super Bowl). The red slash seemed a bit severe.

This is the North Melbourne Kangaroos guernsey. They finished number two on the regular season ladder and made it through the Finals to the Premiership Game and staged a convincing win. So they obviously played well, but I just couldn't cope with the vertical stripes.

This is the guernsey for the Carlton Blues. They finished number 6 on the ladder during the regular season, but valiantly fought their way through the finals for a berth in the Premiership Game. They lost to the North Melbourne Kangaroos by 35 points, but have a look at the guernsey--crisp, classic. I loved the CFC on the front (for Carlton Football Club, of course). Simple and stunning at the same time. Yes, I liked the look of this Carlton team.


It would be rather shallow of me to put so much weight on the look of the guernsey. I thought, I must have a look at the player list as well because you'd want a team with good players (or good looking ones anyway). So I started learning about a few of the players and studying them carefully--this was research, after all. I needed to choose a team.


Here's what I found...they call him SOS (pronounced sauce) and he was amazing! His real name is Stephen Silvagni. A very talented player with an impressive footy pedigree. His father, Sergio or "Serge" Silvagni also played for Carlton. Hence Stephen's nickname SOS stands for Son of Serge. Of course these were unnecessary details. I didn't need any more convincing. I was SOLD!!


So Carlton it was. They had it all, good results during the season, a great looking guernsey and a star player that knocks your socks off!

Now to break the news to the Handsome Australian...

Learn the Lingo
ladder=standings
guernsey=jersey
Finals=playoffs
Preliminary Final=inital round of playoffs
Grand Final=Super Bowl
Premiership Game=Grand Final=Super Bowl
SOS=Son of Serge aka Stephen Silvagni

Who do you barrack for?

Handsome Australian's Brother (HAB): "So have you decided who you barrack for?"

Me: Quickly flipping through the rolodex in my mind (or for those Gen Y readers out there, googling my mind) trying to figure out what he meant by 'barrack'. Coming up empty handed I had to ask what had easily become my most FAQ since my arrival in Australia, "Excuse me?"

HAB: "Your team. You've gotta have a team. Everyone has a team. Have you chosen a team?"

Me: It would be so nice if I actually knew what team he was talking about. It's quite obvious he thinks I know what he means. Look at his face...ahhh. I'm really not this slow, honest, I'm not. Team? Team? Team? Ok I give up, "Team?"

HAB: Disappointment on his face and a distinct hint of disbelief about my inability to understand anything he was talking about--like 'Is this girl for real? Where did my brother find her anyway?' "Yeah, you know, the footy. Have you chosen a team to barrack for in the footy?"

ME: Oh, the footy. Yes, the footy. Of course, the footy. The what? "I'm sorry, the footy?"

HAB: Slowly losing patience, "Yes, the footy. You know, Aussie Rules FOOTBALL."

ME: Light bulb moment, oh that footy. Of course, Aussie Rules. Yeah I totally knew what he was talking about. I just didn't know that I knew...okay I had no idea, and it was painfully obvious to both him and me. "Oh yeah Aussie Rules. That's like Rugby right?"

HAB: A smile creeping up on his face and then boisterous laughter, "No, no (in between laughs) it's not Rugby. Rugby is totally different. We don't follow the Rugby down here. In Vic (meaning the state of Victoria) we are Aussie Rules people. It's a completely different sport. Do you follow sport at all? I mean anything, basketball, grid iron, soccer anything?

ME: I was with him until the grid iron part...here we go again, "Yes, I do follow sports. Well I like basketball anyway and I root for the San Antonio Spurs. I'm a big David Robinson fan (trying to show I do know something about 'sport' as he calls it). I've even been to a few games. (Casually) What's grid iron anyway?"

HAB: Laughing to himself, slapping his knee and then putting on a straight face, "Um, can I give you a tip?"

ME: Oh my God, what have I done now? A tip? What kind of tip--don't ask so many silly questions about sport? Or even better, don't ask so many silly questions period..."Sure."

HAB: "Whatever you do, don't say 'root' when you talk about your support of a sports team here in Australia. It doesn't mean the same thing here that it does in America. It's kinda rude if you catch what I mean."

ME: Going red in the face. Oh this is so embarrassing. What have I said now? How can they call this English--there is nothing about it that's the same. Afraid to ask, but knowing I'm better off finding out now, "Rude? Do you mean offensive?"

HAB: Relishing this, "Yes, offensive."

ME: "What does it mean exactly?"

HAB: "Here, root means to f**k."

ME: Hands over my mouth, my face turning an even darker shade of red. So I just said the equivalent of 'I f**k the San Antonio Spurs.' Right. Is having a conversation in this country always going to suck this much? All I can muster, "I see."

HAB: "Here we say 'barrack' instead of 'root'. So when someone says, 'Who do you barrack for?' They are asking you which team you support. Which, if you remember now, was my original question to you."

ME: Yes, yes, yes, I do remember hearing that funny little 'barrack' word previously, but that was before I said I liked to f**k an entire basketball team. Surely he can forgive me for forgetting. "Yes, you did ask me that didn't you? Well, I think it'd be pretty obvious by now that I haven't chosen one, but judging by my previous statement, I'm guessing I'll be pretty popular when I do!"

HAB: Laughing really hard. "Bloody oath mate, bloody oath."

Learn the Lingo
barrack=root
root=f**k
footy=can refer to football of all varieties: Australian Rules, Rugby, Soccer, etc.
grid iron=American football
sport=sports
bloody oath=too true (in this case)