I had lived in Sydney all my life, but, due to some regrettable circumstances, a few years ago I was required to attend a Brisbane court for a 3-week-long trial, and since that time I have been residing in a Queensland gaol.
Over that time, I have observed Queenslanders in their natural habitat, not only individuals but more particularly their media, or at least a sampling of it – TV, radio, occasional newspapers. I have concluded that Queenslanders are the most parochial creatures I have ever encountered. It’s not just barracking for their Maroons in the State of Origin. It is the intensity of their provincialism. Sydney folk have no need to compare ourselves to other Australians. Queenslanders seem to harbour a resentment towards the rest of the country.
A few examples will suffice to make my point. I have noticed that, when a national sporting team such as the Wallabies is named, Queenslanders are highlighted. Should any individual of Queensland provenance achieve some small success on the world stage, they are invariably identified as a Queenslander and, almost as an afterthought, an Australian. In NSW we never hear this; we wouldn’t have a clue where a high-achieving Australian emerged from.
There is currently an advertisement on TV featuring a testimonial by Tim Horan, helpfully captioned as “Queensland legend and Wallaby”. In NSW, a similar production might feature Brad Fittler or Mark Taylor, and they would be appropriately captioned with their noteworthy achievements but without a NSW tag.
A classic parochial cringe emerged at the most recent Olympic Games, where it seemed that a number of Australia’s best swimmers were of Queensland origin. Each night for the first week of the Games, enervated TV commentators highlighted this quirk of geography and took it to a ludicrous level. They displayed the traditional medal count, then constructed a supplementary medal table showing that, should Queensland be a sovereign state rather than being tethered to the rest of Australia, it would be 4th on the medal table! (This ranking plummeted after swimming events concluded.)
I was dumbfounded when I saw this display, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. No matter what is regarded as newsworthy to the wider world, if Ash Barty, Wally Lewis or an Irwin have a birthday or a sore throat, we know what will be the lead item on the evening news. If I were able to find a copy of the Courier Mail front page dated April 16, 1912, I would not be surprised if the headline read “No Queenslanders Drowned”, with the subheading being “1,500 lives lost as Titanic sinks”.
Do you think I am exaggerating? When the new Pope was ordained earlier this year, those of us unfortunate enough to view the Queensland TV news were informed that the new Pontiff had once played tennis (and lost) to a Queensland priest while studying in Italy.
Presently, the Queensland media is all agog with the prospect of hosting an Olympic Games. When the Games were held in Sydney, we efficiently constructed the required facilities, got on with it and unsurprisingly conducted the Best Games Ever. No hullabaloo required. And the rowing events were entirely crocodile-free.
Mont Blanc
I had lived in Sydney all my life, but, due to some regrettable circumstances, a few years ago I was required to attend a Brisbane court for a 3-week-long trial, and since that time I have been residing in a Queensland gaol.
Over that time, I have observed Queenslanders in their natural habitat, not only individuals but more particularly their media, or at least a sampling of it – TV, radio, occasional newspapers. I have concluded that Queenslanders are the most parochial creatures I have ever encountered. It’s not just barracking for their Maroons in the State of Origin. It is the intensity of their provincialism. Sydney folk have no need to compare ourselves to other Australians. Queenslanders seem to harbour a resentment towards the rest of the country.
A few examples will suffice to make my point. I have noticed that, when a national sporting team such as the Wallabies is named, Queenslanders are highlighted. Should any individual of Queensland provenance achieve some small success on the world stage, they are invariably identified as a Queenslander and, almost as an afterthought, an Australian. In NSW we never hear this; we wouldn’t have a clue where a high-achieving Australian emerged from.
There is currently an advertisement on TV featuring a testimonial by Tim Horan, helpfully captioned as “Queensland legend and Wallaby”. In NSW, a similar production might feature Brad Fittler or Mark Taylor, and they would be appropriately captioned with their noteworthy achievements but without a NSW tag.
A classic parochial cringe emerged at the most recent Olympic Games, where it seemed that a number of Australia’s best swimmers were of Queensland origin. Each night for the first week of the Games, enervated TV commentators highlighted this quirk of geography and took it to a ludicrous level. They displayed the traditional medal count, then constructed a supplementary medal table showing that, should Queensland be a sovereign state rather than being tethered to the rest of Australia, it would be 4th on the medal table! (This ranking plummeted after swimming events concluded.)
I was dumbfounded when I saw this display, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. No matter what is regarded as newsworthy to the wider world, if Ash Barty, Wally Lewis or an Irwin have a birthday or a sore throat, we know what will be the lead item on the evening news. If I were able to find a copy of the Courier Mail front page dated April 16, 1912, I would not be surprised if the headline read “No Queenslanders Drowned”, with the subheading being “1,500 lives lost as Titanic sinks”.
Do you think I am exaggerating? When the new Pope was ordained earlier this year, those of us unfortunate enough to view the Queensland TV news were informed that the new Pontiff had once played tennis (and lost) to a Queensland priest while studying in Italy.
Presently, the Queensland media is all agog with the prospect of hosting an Olympic Games. When the Games were held in Sydney, we efficiently constructed the required facilities, got on with it and unsurprisingly conducted the Best Games Ever. No hullabaloo required. And the rowing events were entirely crocodile-free.
Mont Blanc
