Last Sunday, I drifted from the big Western Derby at Optus Stadium to Pretty Woman: The Musical at Crown Theatre Perth.

Having seen Pretty Woman the movie (like most people on this planet) I knew at least one thing about the latter spectacle: it would end well.

Earlier that night I threw out what I thought was a reasonable question: what would be the bigger fairytale, the Eagles winning the derby, or a working girl marrying a billionaire? I was leaning towards Hollywood, having already tipped the Dockers to win the premiership in 2026.

I’ll probably get a bit of stick for this, but I really enjoyed the musical. Once I adjusted to the fact that the Vivian on stage wasn’t quite the same towering presence as immortalised by Julia Roberts in the film, I settled in. Perth’s own Samantha Jade more than holds her own, bringing a charm and energy that carries the show. By the time she stepped out in the famous red dress, I was all in.

She’s not the only homegrown talent on show, either. There’s a strong local flavour to the production. Ben Hall playing Richard Gere’s character, Edward, has that polished, confident edge you’d expect, and the chemistry between the two makes the whole thing tick. It’s a modern take, with a few tweaks here and there so it feels a bit more 2026 than 1990 — but the heart of it hasn’t changed.

Now, I’m no theatre critic, and I’m fairly sure I don’t fall into the traditional musical-goer demographic, but I know what grabs me. And for whatever reason, I thought the fella who played the bellhop was outstanding.

His name is Jordan Tomljenovic; he’s another Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts (WAAPA) graduate and he killed it.

Comic timing, energy, presence: he had the lot. I even briefly considered backing up for the afterparty on a Sunday night just to tell him. Then I thought, steady on. The last thing he needs is some random footy head wandering up like a long-lost mate. He’d think I was taking the micky.

A bit like when I once met Bear Grylls: you build these people up, then suddenly you’re face-to-face trying to sound normal. Not easy.

What the show does brilliantly is lean into the moments we all remember. The necklace scene, for example: what is possibly the greatest unscripted movie moment of all time was still magic on the theatre stage.

The Rodeo Drive shopping scene still gets a good laugh (and probably a quiet cheer from anyone who’s ever been judged walking into a shop): “’You work on commission, right? Big mistake. Big. Huge.”

Then there’s that shift; the moment Richard Gere/Ben Hall/Edward Lewis really sees Vivian — properly sees her — and everything changes.

And of course, the kiss on the lips. The fairytale ending, neatly wrapped. No controversy, no review, no debate on Monday morning about what went wrong.

Which is probably why it felt like such a nice change of pace to the footy.

Because sport doesn’t give you that guarantee. You turn up hoping for a moment, something to talk about all week but there’s no script. No music swelling at the right time. No promise it’ll all come together.

Every now and then, it’s not bad to sit back and let a story carry you away. No stress, no second guessing, just a couple of hours where everything lands exactly where it should.

Even if it is a bit far-fetched. OK, very far-fetched.

Then again, so is everything going right for your footy club.

And yet, we keep turning up for both, just in case we get that happy ending.