On Thursday, rugby league followers - of which I am, unfortunately, not - saw the return of their beloved game after the coronavirus-induced lay-off.

While I want to see my friends happy, there is a limit to my good grace, especially when I am experiencing such excruciating withdrawals.

Like millions of residents of this sports-mad country, a large portion of my life revolves around football - in my case, football of the Australian Rules variety.

However, I did not realise just how integral the football season was to my life's structure until it was so cruelly suspended after round one.

From scrambling to get the newspaper put to bed and a drink poured on a Friday night before the opening bounce, to scheduling weekend chores like mowing the lawns and grocery shopping around games - between March and the 'last weekend in September', the AFL fixture is every bit as important as circadian rhythms in regulating my behaviour.

It is not a new phenomenon by any means.

Growing up in Tasmania in the late 80s and early 90s, there was next-to-no television coverage of the VFL, as it was then known.

So, I would play my sport on a Saturday morning, rush home to wash the mud off me and then spend the whole afternoon in the car, which had the most powerful radio antenna at my disposal, listening through the static to calls of the games on Melbourne stations.

During breaks in the commentary, I would exit the car and attempt to recreate the passages of play I had just listened to - ducking under the clothesline, weaving around the lemon tree, bouncing the ball on the grass (careful to avoid the dog poo) before slotting it home between two fence posts.

The risk of flattening the car battery seems high in hindsight, but I don't remember my parents minding. I was out of their hair for a good few hours on a Saturday afternoon and for that a flat battery probably seemed a reasonable price to pay.

Sport, but especially football, has always felt like the one constant in my life - and I know I'm not alone in feeling this.

The thought that a season could ever be interrupted to the extent we have seen over the past 10 weeks or so was unconscionable.

It was too big and too important to too many people to ever be halted.

But then again, the thought of not being able to go to a pub, or buy toilet paper at a supermarket, or get a haircut, or work from an office seemed unconscionable too.

Thankfully, we are starting to see many of the things we once took for granted re-entering our lives.

A return to normal might be some way off yet, but gee, having the footy - the real footy - back on June 11 will be a big step in the right direction.

All the best for the week ahead,

Ross Tyson, editor