Today, Big Little Lies’ finale aired and everyone seems to agree it was a cathartic, fitting and thrilling end to what’s been a darkly satisfying and stylish domestic noir. 

So it’s timely that yesterday, while standing beside a muddy football pitch, on the north shore of Sydney, my friend nudged me in the ribs and squeaked, ‘Oh my god, look!’ Neither of our children had scored a goal or fallen over and nobody was offering around cut up oranges at the wrong moment. But instead, Liane Moriarty, author of the book the show is based on, was in our midst!

To be exact: the Australian literary superstar was on the sidelines opposite us, clutching an umbrella just like the rest of us, probably cursing the fact she’d forgotten to wear wellies, just like the rest of us, and looking delighted and amused as she watched a cluster of small girls and one ball race from one end of the pitch to the other in a not very effective manner, just like the rest of us.

I’ve fangirled about Liane (just first names now, ‘cos we’ll probably be besties by the time the soccer season’s finished) before, here. I love her books, I love the TV series and I’m delighted that Australia has finally woken up to what a talent she is.

And not to sound like a total stalker, although I know I do, I’ve been to author talks she’s given at my local library and during the Sydney Writer’s Festival. So, yes, it’s fair to say I’m, unapologetically, a true fan.

But seeing her at our kids’ footie match, meaning we were practically living and breathing our very own Big Little Lies scene with added bottom roundness and wrinkles, made me and my friend more than a little giddy with giggles ‘n’ thrills.

However, we Kept Our Cool, and didn’t, thank goodness, barge across the mud and immediately introduce ourselves or anything that cringe-worthy (my pal is also a writer so as a combo we’re so introverted we can barely talk to each other). But of course, we’re very keen to see if our paths cross with Liane’s during future miniroo outings. 

Plus, if we ever gather the courage, perhaps we’ll ask her whether the rumours are true that the TV Big Little Lies is returning for a second season.

And while David E. Kelley has just a bit of showrunning experience and I’m sure he’ll come up with a few story arcs of his own, I might tell Liane to suggest he throws in a few soccer-mum scenes.

Obviously, there will have to be more tension and drama than was seen off the pitch yesterday. Me stepping in a bit of mud that was possibly dog poo, or how we were all trying not to laugh at how adorable and hopeless our players were, probably won’t cut it.

But perhaps an accusation that one team miscalculated the number of goals they scored leading to a dramatic stand off between two middle aged (but v glamorous and thin) mummy types could work?

And as the setting will be Monterey rather than Lane Cove, perhaps one of the dads can tumble over the edge of a cliff while trying to save an errant ball kicked away in disgust?

What do you reckon, could that be an Emmy-worthy ep?

PS Liane’s team won. 

PPS Rumours the match was fixed in some way are just that, at this stage.

PPPS No need to thank me, David, but a small credit on IMDB would be nice.


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