An annual obsession.

A replica of the AFL premiership cup sits on the communion table of a grand old church in Melbourne's CBD. Blasphemous? Hardly. "There are two great religions," says Scots church elder Robert Lowe. "Christianity and Australian rules football."

Welcome to Grand Finals week. Ostensibly the buildup to Saturday's premiership match between defending champs Geelong Cats and league-leading scorer Buddy Franklin's Hawthorn Hawks, but in practice a footy fan's last chance to gorge on a feast of spectacles before the season's final horn.

The pageantry got off to an inauspicious start Monday night at the annual Brownlow Awards ceremony at Melbourne's glitzy Crown Casino. Surreal was the word that most came to mind as Aradhna and I watched a bit of the telecast against the advice of our dear friend Liz, a long-suffering Richmond Tigers fan and veteran of many a Brownlow ceremony. The most common question among the regulars at Elsternwick's Hopscotch cafe the following morning was "Did you catch the Brownlows last night?", signifying its place as 'water cooler TV' that, like the Oscars, acts as a societal adhesive and cultural touchstone for viewers of every stripe.

It's also tacky, witless, poorly produced and criminally mundane.

The Brownlow medalist is essentially the season's most valuable player. Shockingly, the awards ceremony consists of revisiting the just concluded season, week-by-week, game-by-game, by counting out loud and compiling the number of votes awarded to each player. An accountant's dream, perhaps, but wickedly dull television. Tuxedoed players are shown at team tables beneath gaudy chandeliers and beside gussied-up WAGs (an awful acronym for 'wives and girlfriends') forcing smiles throughout the tedious 3-hour tally. The eventual winner was 22-year-old Adam Cooney of the Western Bulldogs. The Tigers' Matthew 'Rich-O' Richardson was the night's sentimental favorite but fell two votes short.

For the media, the Brownlows are all about the WAGs (like the one pictured here). If footy players epitomize Aussie masculinity, then these women presumably do the same for Aussie femininity. It's a competitive affair -- a Battle of the Frocks, if you will -- as flashing cameras capture each couple's stroll down the red carpet, and the next day's papers declare Brownlow fashion 'winners' and 'losers'. Silly, harmless fluff, but to me this marriage of Melburnian obsessions -- footy & fashion -- makes little sister Melbourne appear to be wearing big sister Sydney's clothes. Without success.