Bharat Sundaresan (left) and images of fans watching and celebrating on Grand Final Day through the years. Pictures: Supplied / AFL Photos

DAWSON BARNES knew little about Australian rules football before Saturday afternoon. He knew even less about vathal kuzhambu, starting with how to say the word.

It’s pronounced “wetter co-lumb-u” by the way. Not perfect but that’s close enough. Vathal kuzhambu is a niche South Indian style saucy curry – tangy, spicy and delicious – with a strong tamarind base. The quality of the dish, though, eventually depends on how well the shallots are sauteed.  My cousin, Kaushik, gets it right always. Like he’s done over the last three years on the final Saturday of September. The perennial Norm Smith medallist, if you may, of the vathal kozhambu.

It’s an unprecedented pairing and one that’s surely unique to us. But since 2023, a fiery Tamil lunch with my cousin and his family at their home in Hallett Cove has become the staple of our annual AFL Grand Final tradition. One that young Dawson got introduced to and incorporated into while the Brisbane Lions picked up their second consecutive flag. 

Dayne Zorko and Lachie Neale with the premiership cup after the 2025 Grand Final. Picture: AFL Photos

The 18-year-old commerce student is Kaushik’s nephew. Born and raised in central Sydney, he’d never been truly exposed to South Indian food or the AFL. At least, not until he decided to spend a spring weekend in our company on the southern tip of Adelaide. And what an enlightening afternoon it turned out to be for him.

There he sat on the dining table, flanked by Kaushik to his right detailing the spice profiles of Tamil cooking, and me on his left explaining the rhythms of footy. From how our classical food differs from the more distinct “ginger-garlic dominated” flavours in the north of India and, more importantly, the very different flavours of what we call footy as compared to the NRL that he grew up on.

It would be a bit presumptuous for me to claim that I managed to convert Dawson to barrack for the best footy code entirely on Saturday. But it’s safe to say that he enjoyed being a part of what has fast become our AFL Grand Final fare.

As I’ve learnt in my time in Australia, this is, after all, the true spirit of Grand Final day, This coming together of people, regardless of how invested they are in either team or in the sport itself. And even if this is the only game of footy they watch all year long.

Collingwood fans celebrate their win in the 2023 Grand Final while watching at Olympic Park Oval. Picture: AFL Photos

It’s like Christmas but in spring. Like Christmas sans the gifts. It’s about family. It’s about traditions. It’s about family traditions. And in our case, it’s also about two dozen shallots sauteed till they’re golden brown. Along with the succulent aroma of a fried potato curry, South Indian style, and crispy-fried papads (or poppadums for many of you).  

Dawson wasn’t the only first-timer in the room. His grandparents, Peter and Devon Barnes, originally from Queensland and who recently moved to Adelaide, were savouring the experience as well, along with the food. Peter couldn’t get his head around how Geelong let the game slip away as rapidly as they did after a tight first half. Meanwhile, Devon was rather vocal about her admiration for the athleticism of the players on both sides, alternating between, “Ohhh, that’s a mark” and “Ohhh, was that a mark?”

Charlie Cameron flies for a mark during Brisbane’s clash with Geelong in the 2025 Grand Final. Picture: AFL Photos

My sister-in-law, Sally, meanwhile, watched from the sidelines, sighing and lamenting why Port Adelaide couldn’t match up to the quality of the two teams in the final this season. Our resident super Power fan, my niece Serena, consoled her mother and insisted that 2026 would be their team’s year. Even as 11-year-old Mahalaya wondered out aloud why her big sister was supporting the Cats over the Lions in this final rather than bemoaning the fact that Port weren’t there.

The only missing regular piece in our mix was my wife Isha, who’s currently away in India. She wasn’t going to miss out entirely though. Isha was instead listening to the broadcast on SEN, using noise-cancelling headphones, of course, to beat out the unrelenting din of Durga Puja festivities currently underway in Kolkata.

Isha wouldn’t have been the only Australian footy fan celebrating Grand Final day overseas. There would have been hundreds of watch parties organised all over the globe, like the one premier cricket broadcaster Adam Collins organises annually in the UK. It’s in a basement bowling alley in central London, where he gets together with his cricket teammates.

Adam Collins (third from right) with former federal treasurer Wayne Swan (third from left) at a Grand Final day party in London. Picture: Supplied

“Mostly fellow expat Aussies, who instinctively get the emotion of it all, some curious English. All taken in while daydreaming about flying back into Grand Final week sometime soon to watch my own boys run around on the final Saturday in September, back with my people,” he says.

As a fanatical Hawthorn supporter growing up, Collins reminisces about how Grand Final day was a “major family occasion” in his household.

Much like it has been for generations around Australia. And it is quite wonderful how many footy fans of all ages still flock to their parents’ homes for barbecues to witness the spectacle every September, even if they themselves have teenaged kids now.

“It’s not always kept within the family either. You might have had a ritual of going to the Grand Final at this one friend’s parents’ home while at school. And you still end up going to the same place even as an adult, while taking your own kids along,” says legendary Aussie pro-wrestler and physical trainer Spe Caruana.

But then there are also those, he says, who then start watching it with their “chosen family”. In his case it’s a bunch of friends who gather at the same pub every year and with the same ground rules.

“You have to wear the jersey of a team that you do not barrack for,” he says. And they do without fail.

Spe Caruana (bottom left, in Geelong jumper) and his mates on Grand Final day. Picture: Supplied

My cousin and I aren’t the only ones to have kick-started our own singular ‘one day in September’ ritual in Hallett Cove. Next door to us, the Singhs, who are massive Crows fans, host their own annual Diwali-style AFL Grand Final party. It’s a fun custom that they’ve practised for a while now, inviting a bunch of their Indian-expat non-footy fans over to integrate them into the sport. The expectation is for each guest to pick a team before the game and to barrack for them, even if they know nothing about the sport or the players. Mr Singh walks around explaining the basics and takes great pride in being the valedictorian for footy among his peers, apart from always backing himself to pick the winners.

Much like the morning of the Boxing Day Test or NRL State of Origin or the Melbourne Cup, the AFL Grand Final tends to be pan-national in terms of its uniting powers. Artist Kate Quinn from Brisbane reveals how she watched the Lions and Chris Fagan pull off the two-peat in the company of four different families, despite not really caring for the sport.

Dayne Zorko, Chris Fagan and Cam Rayner embrace after Brisbane’s win over Geelong in the 2025 Grand Final. Picture: AFL Photos

Not that Kate is one of them, but it also becomes a chance for the naysayers in the northern states to get together and express their dissatisfaction with all things Aussie rules footy. The sort of thing that Dawson was used to in Sydney before he joined us this time around. The reason for his constant rolling of the eyes at some of the aspects and rules of AFL footy that we the passionate fans are enamoured with. Especially the highly interpretive parts of umpiring in the AFL. And by the fourth quarter, even Dawson was nodding along politely when it came to how the marks get paid and what constitutes a free kick.

Grand Finals therefore also become a great opportunity to sell our beloved sport better to the non-believers. To make the most of the general bonhomie and camaraderie of the occasion. Like we tried to last weekend, using those unmistakable forces of nature: polite coercion and incredibly tasty food.

For the record, an hour or so post the Grand Final, Dawson was at the local park, kicking the footy around. Maybe we did succeed in getting him over the line. Maybe he’ll be back next September to partake in our family tradition. When the AFL season comes to a grand finish and the shallots are sauteed to perfection.