There is a little something called the grand final this weekend.

Not that I would know.

As far as I am concerned, the AFL season ended on Friday night when the mighty Pies finished one goal away from possible September glory.

Call it sour grapes, call me a typical Collingwood fan, whatever, it doesn’t bother me. It’s true.

Besides which, I think you would be hard-pressed to find anyone who truly believes the Port-Geelong final could be any better than what was played out on Friday night.

But while the season may have ended a little prematurely for me, I have since discovered there are others who have missed the season completely.

I was out with one such person on Friday night (before the game of course) who wanted to know why I was so jittery.

When I told her, she looked at me blankly.

“Really? It’s finals time already? This last season has totally passed me by.”

Once I picked myself up off the floor, I asked her to expand. “I just missed it,” she said. “I don’t have a team and I’m not overly interested, so I didn’t really pay attention.”

This amazed me for two reasons. One, because my mood on a Monday morning between March and September usually depends on what has happened the weekend before and what sort of ribbing I can expect when I walk back into the office (where exactly did Adelaide finish, Crowboy?) and two, there are people who I talk football with and nothing else.

Seriously.

We spot each other across the office – either groan and commiserate or smile and gloat, before recapping the game in about 30 seconds, noting key players and adding a prediction about next week, before turning back to our work for another week.

That is about the extent of our conversations.

So I find it amazing that something which plays such a large part of my life for half the year can completely pass others by.

But then again, I’m probably in the same position when it comes to the NRL.

I know it’s on, I know I hate the Channel Nine commentators and I know that Manly and Melbourne will be butting heads this weekend for the premiership, but I probably couldn’t name all the teams in the top eight to save my life.

I blame that largely on my extreme dislike for The Footy Show and Phil Gould.

Honestly, that man drives me barmy. If he starts talking, my brain takes a little snooze break, so all I hear is booooooooooooo, much like a television which has lost its signal.

But still, I have managed to pick up on the basics and, if pressed, would probably choose to support Melbourne this weekend.

Just like I hope the Cats smash Port. (Sorry Tracy, I know they are your team, but seriously.)

But come Monday, it will be all over for another year, meaning it is just a hop, skip and a jump until Christmas.

On the upside, that just brings us one step closer to the Pies taking out the flag in 2008, but that is another story for another column.

In the meantime, there are a whole bunch of people out there who have lived the past six months in a football-free world, completely oblivious to the power and the passion.

So since we’ll all have some free time on our hands come next week, it’s time we start developing strategies to show these people what they are missing.

And for those looking for a team, Collingwood has some vacancies.