After learning I was present for the mighty Pies’ win over the Lions at the Gabba on Saturday night, our intrepid sports editor made me promise I wouldn’t write a column about how good Collingwood is. But he said nothing about not writing a column about how good the game was.

To be honest, good doesn’t even begin to cover the time I had watching two of the best battle it out. But you know what? It wasn’t the action on the field that left me with that warm fuzzy feeling I usually feel after finding a particularly fabulous bargain.

It was the crowd. Saturday’s match was a first for my husband and sister, who are recent converts to the game. I gave Alex a crash course on the basics of the great game that is AFL and my sister’s boyfriend took her under his wing to do the same.

But in the days leading up to the game, I still caught Alex expressing doubt that he would enjoy himself, watching “aerial ping pong”. I’m not sure he believed me when I said that to truly understand AFL you have to experience a match first hand, but he was willing to give it a try.

But all that changed the minute we took our front row seats and were absorbed by the roar of the crowd. We seemed to be sitting in the midst of the Collingwood supporters club, but my friend Yvonne, a Brisbane fan from way back (she followed them when they were still the Bears), bravely went against the general consensus and persisted in cheering for the Lions despite the apparent threat to her health.

We gamely put up with her. Besides, her side was losing, which made it easier. I yelled loud enough for Dale Thomas to give us a little wave and jeered loud enough to cause my sister to wonder where I had come from. But a few plastic cups filled with beer later and even Alex embraced the atmosphere, and by the fourth quarter all of us were on our feet screaming our lungs out.

By that time, my new best friend and I (some bloke from Bundy) were feeling big enough to even applaud Jonathan Brown’s mark. But I almost cried tears of pride when Alex stood up and told Brown he kicked like his sister, while Yvonne just despaired that he wasn’t going to be earning his salary that night.

By the end, standing and singing “Good old Collingwood forever” with thousands of like-minded fans would only have tasted better if it was a grand final. And running out on to the field and punting a ball to some kid while his dad grinned like an idiot, it hit me why fans love their game so much.

You just can’t buy that passion, that feeling you get after a great game, surrounded by your loved ones and new best friends. For that split moment in time, all is right with the world.

And even when reality snaps you back and hits you in face, the blow is lessened by the memories you made that night. And nothing can take that away.