THE SPLIT round comes with an undeniable sense of freedom, especially in the second week. Three-quarters of the round is over by then, leaving just one paltry quarter to dissect, and really it’s such a small portion it’s hardly worth the effort.

By my calculations it only equates to five hours of footy. Big deal. So with that in mind, I’d like to devote this column to all the other things that inspired me over the weekend just gone.

The beauty of the split round is you can get so many other things done in the second little chunk of it. It’s the perfect time to re-connect with friends, family or yourself, whichever of the three has been most lacking over the first 14 rounds. In my case all three needed servicing so I opted for a combination.

I don’t want you to think my football/life balance is dangerously out of whack. It’s okay. Really it is. On average I wake up in a cold sweat two nights a week having dreamt about the Adelaide Crows forward line. There was a time when that figure was closer to five. My aim is to get it down to one by season’s end.

I just think it’s really important to invest in all other areas of my life. Radical, I know, during the month of July, but I’d argue entirely necessary after 14 unrelenting rounds. Relationships need to be nurtured. They don’t prosper by themselves. They’re like any other living organism – they need to be fed.

The tarot-reading girlfriends almost choked on their tofu when I said I was free Saturday afternoon. “Ange, are you feeling well? Do you need a doctor?” I explained the concept of the split round, which was as foreign to them as quantum physics is to me. We had a lovely afternoon sipping tea, solving problems while at the same time inventing a few more, and by the end of it I felt sufficiently nourished. Walking home I couldn’t help but sing the praises of the split round. Nearing home I’d moved on to Split Enz.

Sunday afternoon I repeated the dose – friends, conversation, food and wine. Life away from football wasn’t that bad after all. I finished the afternoon with a lengthy chat to Mum in Adelaide. We compared lentil soup recipes in a world record-beating conversation that bounced around more than a cherry tomato on a first date. (By that I mean two people on their first date trying to stab a cherry tomato with a fork. Perilous at the best of times, near impossible when you’re trying to impress.)

Once again I felt nourished. Content even. My football to life ratio was back on track. And by the time I’d soaked in an hour long bath I was a full convert to the split round. Can we do it again next week?

Arriving at work on Monday morning all the talk was about the two games of footy on the weekend; Geelong’s 68-point win over Adelaide and Collingwood’s unexpected victory against Sydney. With my new found football/life balance I smiled and headed straight to the kitchen to make a cup of tea – herbal of course – I could feel my equilibrium slipping away.