Why Streaking Is Fun

There may be other news happening in Australia at the moment but all anyone’s interested in is the streaker who appeared in the final stages of last night’s State of Origin rugby league match.

Wati Holmwood decided to make a naked run across the filed with a little over two minutes left until the end of the game. Apparently he’d greased himself with vaseline beforehand. After he was crash-tackled by security, the players continued around him and scored a try that was later disallowed due to the interruption. Most of sports-mad Australia are now debating whether what he did was funny or worthy of lynching.


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The always classy News.com.au followed Wati to the police station where he was charged with “wilful and obscene exposure”, given a pair of shorts and told to go home. The errant streaker then walked 10km home.

Facebook pages have been set up calling him a “legend” and seeking to raise money to pay his various fines. As you can see in the above video, a lot of people found the streak amusing.

What’s interesting is the number of comments about Wati’s weight. A commentator said he was sprinting across the field ‘‘like there was a free buffet beneath the goalposts.’’ The sports pages haven’t hesitated to use the word fat when describing him, although this piece about his family’s reaction only calls him “big”. I can imagine that if Wati had been a woman there would probably have been more of an uproar; female streakers are often lauded when they’re good looking but abused if they’re not.


I like streaking because it is a glorious show of nudity that is not sexual or threatening. Streaking is a long way from flashing or sexual stalking. It’s often impulsive and surrounded by a sense of silliness and fun. It’s about breaking the taboo that says being naked in public is wrong. The fact that we still have “wilful and obscene exposure” laws that are purely to prosecute public nudity is a shame.

It’s also good for us. We get to see a naked body in all of its realness, jiggling about the place with no airbrushing, no nice poses, no pre-determined ideas of what is attractive. Just pure humanity.

I don’t care if it interrupts a sporting match. Sport is just a game, albeit one bathed in ludicrous amounts of money. We need to be reminded that it’s just entertainment, in the end.