Rugby league’s ultimate moral dilemma: Manly versus Easts, semi-final, Saturday night. The neutral fan is stuck like Paul on the road to Homebush or Damascus. Who do you hate more? Who do you cheer to lose? In a patently insincere attempt at balance, here are both cases.
‘Guess what? Manly hates you too’ This banner is carried to every Manly match by Stephen Lucas, who was grossly offended by a 2021 NRL fans’ poll that found Melbourne, Brisbane, Easts and Penrith were more hated than his beloved Sea Eagles. “Manly will always be hated for being more professional and much more successful than other fans’ clubs,” Lucas said, grasping for relevance. Lucas was appalled that good-humoured opposition fans now asked to be photographed with him and his banner.
He did find a ray of hope, however, saying, “If I could go ahead in time to 2121 I would be willing to bet Melbourne would be just another team and fans would still hate Manly.” There’s every chance Manly won’t exist in 2121, but true NRL fans will still hate them. History It’s the older generations that keep tribal hatred for Manly alive.
In the 1970s, Manly showed their professionalism and success by poaching players from the four points of the compass – Souths, Norths, Easts and Wests. Since the advent of the salary cap, Manly have been reduced to poaching players from the Tigers. Easts’ history of pillage is more resilient, toughing it out deep into the salary cap era.
Daly Cherry-Evans and Luke Brooks celebrate their win over Canterbury. Credit: Getty Images Billionaires’ row Manly and Easts are both controlled by rich men. In Succession -speak, Manly’s Scott Penn is Connor Roy, the son and heir, slightly goofy, idealistic, floating in now and then on a well-meaning thought bubble.
The Penn family’s money derives from healthcare. Easts’ Nick Politis, by contrast, is the full Logan Roy: a scary autocrat who makes or breaks careers based on how quickly his phone calls are returned, and whose gestures of affection are treasured like diamonds. His money derives from car yards.
Put Politis and Penn in a ring and it would be an unpretty mismatch, like Japan versus Raygun. The beaches The northern beaches are god’s country, even if fewer Manly supporters can afford to live there. The eastern beaches would be god’s country if you could park there.
To everyone else, real estate values are a good enough reason to hate both clubs, their gods and their overpriced countries. Roosters supremo Nick Politis. Credit: Tim Bauer The player conundrum The problem for neutrals is, that it takes imagination to fully hate individual players at Manly and Easts today, especially with Brandon Smith sidelined.
The heart of Manly is Turbo, Jurbo and Burbo. What’s to hate? Yes, DCE has been disliked, but now he is past 50 years of age (don’t believe he’s only 35), fans have softened. How can you hate someone who is that old and still getting better? If you’re looking for a prancing, error-prone show-pony, Dominic Young and Jason Saab cancel each other out.
Grubs? Jared Waerea-Hargreaves is more of a cult comedy, like Spiros Arion or Mario Milano, brought on to whack someone and get sent off again to a standing ovation. I’m as prone to pointless hatred as anyone, but I’ve searched my soul and just can’t find it. The venue Brookvale Oval, or whatever it’s called now, can be hated because of its chaotic transport options, its blinding afternoon sun, and toilets that are like the black hole of Kolkata.
Like Stephen Lucas, Brookie hates you too. But the new Sydney Football Stadium, or whatever it’s called? Wasn’t that paid for by taxpayers’ money? Has everyone in New South Wales gifted a billionaire his own workspace? Someone still hasn’t explained that. The modern coach Neither Trent Robinson nor Anthony Siebold is a former player of note, so they didn’t bring a personality or any other baggage into the coaching box.
They prefer suits to polo shirts. In frustration, they don’t throw their toys out of the cot in the style of Sticky or Bellamy. They adopt a thousand-yard stare and sigh heavily.
When they whinge about referees, they do so within the established guardrails to avoid fines. They speak like pseudo-intellectuals from corporate brainstorming sessions. They care about the person more than the player.
They’re bad box office. Mincemeat for Melbourne The stakes for Saturday’s match are not high. The reward for the winner is a trip to Melbourne to get belted.
For the loser, a trip to Bali to get hammered. Or, in case of a miracle, a trip back to Sydney in a fortnight to get monstered by Penrith. This is not do-or-die.
It’s die-now-or-later. Roosters enforcer Jared Waerea-Hargreaves. Credit: Getty Images Hate for hate’s sake When Manly and Easts last played in a grand final, in 2013, the TV ratings were down.
Rugby league fans will not be ruled by purely negative emotions. If they want to hate-watch, they have infinite options on Netflix. For the sensible neutral, such a game is lose-lose.
It ends up with seeing celebrations in the Easts jersey – a symbol of entitlement, unconscious privilege and rule by business connections – or in the Manly jersey – a symbol of Manly. For the neutral, whatever happens on the field, the certain result is self-hatred for having watched to the end. Tribal hatred does soften with time.
I’ve begun to like the Storm, partly because Ryan Papenhuyzen and Cameron Munster are so good to watch and partly because if you can’t admire what Craig Bellamy has done as a coach, you’ve lost all ability to appreciate the art of turning the ordinary into the excellent. I like Penrith too, because at their best they have perfected the greatest game of all, and they’ve done so while repeatedly divesting themselves of outstanding players to stay within the salary cap. I even like Easts because they have saved the NRL from great embarrassment by not being good enough to win premierships while driving their City Fords through double-wide cap loopholes.
All league followers owe Politis and Robinson a debt of gratitude by failing to buy themselves a title. Manly or Easts? An insoluble moral quandary. Hate one or the other, hate both equally, hate neither equally, it’s all just a game.
(No it’s not.) But league needs hatred like Dracula needs blood, and the beauty of league hatred is that you don’t need to know what it is you’re hating. Maybe it’s the fast-approaching end of the season and six months to wait until round one.
You shake your fist at the rising of the sun. It’s just a reflex. That’s what September is about for most fans.
Once your team is gone, you need to hate someone. I think I can speak for all Sea Eagles and Roosters fans when I say, Guess what? If you can be bothered hating us, we’ll find it in our hearts to hate you too. Sports news, results and expert commentary.
Sign up for our Sport newsletter . NRL is Live and Free on Channel 9 & 9Now.
