In writing this piece I was forced to confront for the first time the 2016 Grand Final between my team Melbourne, and Cronulla.
You see, I couldn’t bear watching it at the time, or in the eight years since. I documented the reason here:
” … the night my shaking finger refreshed the mobile phone and I watched the line at the top complete its journey across the screen.
Then – like a shot of poison to the soul – this appeared.
MEL 12
CRO 14
COMPLETE”
On the eve of the game Shane Flanagan made an admission – a sentiment replicated by Ivan Cleary in his just released auto biography- of his coaching debt to Melbourne Storm: “Two years ago, when we talked about where we wanted to be as a club, Melbourne Storm were one of the clubs we looked at. They have been the most consistent team for ten years, for mine. We admire them as a club and a benchmark.”
Unlike Penrith, they didn’t become the benchmark. But benchmark wasn’t their immediate concern.
This was a 48 year old club with just three grand finals and no premierships against a 17 year old club already in its seventh grand final.
A club’s first premiership is the pinnacle. The coach is never forgotten and no one confuses or is unsure of the players that can happen with the plethora of brilliant personnel who pepper the great club dynasties.
The mission for Cronulla was clear. Its first premiership in front of a crowd dominated by its fans.
You often wonder how the motivations of perennially successful clubs can possibly outstrip those of clubs vying for first time glory. Back to back, three in a row.. four in a row remain potent goals and you’d think the resentment felt towards them and the hostile crowds are a source of motivation.
But perhaps the word ‘motivation’ is an anomaly for the great teams. Yes, they may have great lists but they seem to be hot wired by their culture and coach to win.
The Storm were intent on restoring their reputation as a premiership force. They had produced three underwhelming finals performances since the 2012 premiership and had been brutally exposed in the 2015 preliminary final by the Cowboys.
Cronulla’s forwards and quick play-the-balls dominate the first half forcing consecutive goal line drop outs but can only produce an 8-0 halftime lead. What is telling is the toll such dominance is exacting: Jack Bird’s dead arm, Luke Lewis’s and Matt Prior’s battered faces, Paul Gallen’s rarely exhibited exhaustion after coming off for an interchange.
Then, early in the second half, Sosaia Feki is removed from the field following a brutal gang tackle. While he is hobbling along the sideline, Prior is seen, his head bandaged, being escorted down the tunnel for a HIA.
Despite lack of possession and time in Cronulla’s half, Melbourne – as pristine looking, unhurried and unbattered as Penrith will look during their upcoming dynasty – is able to defend its line while inflicting serious physical damage on the Sharks while doing so.
Then, as is often the case, the referee’s whistle for a ‘relieving’ penalty alters the game. Try to Jesse Bromwich.
In the 54th minute, Jayson Bukuya, attempting to take down a rampaging Tohu Harris, goes down with concussion.
Melbourne Storm’s forwards led by a young Christian Welch begin to dominate. However, a poor kick from Cameron Smith puts the ball over the dead ball line and the Sharks become reinvigorated, threatening Storm’s line repeatedly, only to be repelled.
Then Chad Townsend repeats Smith’s mistake, sending an over zealous kick across the dead ball line.
This time the error changes the course of the game. Two offloads by Welch to Smith see them switch seamlessly to the right side with Will Chambers – Suliasi Vunivalu is free on the edge – deciding to step inside to beat several tiring, back-pedaling defenders, and score.
One of those defenders is hooker Michael Ennis, a victim of the Storm in the 2012 decider. In awe of what Melbourne were capable of he admits after the game that he thought the try had sunk the Sharks.
Gus Gould agreed: “Well I can not believe this. The Melbourne Storm. They’ve got hearts as big as Phar Lap. The courage of their defence. The pressure they’ve been under. The environment they’ve had to walk into today”.
Cronulla refuse to submit to their physical battering and the inevitability of empire, and continue to attack. Prior has passed his HIA and Bird’s arm has seemingly recovered. In the next set, it’s Bird who runs hard into Smith and Dale Finucane who get tangled trying to roll him, drawing a penalty. Cronulla cross Storm’s twenty metre line on the fourth tackle.
There have been few penalties in the game but now we have two in a minute to Cronulla. Welch , brilliant up to this point, makes an unnecessary late tackle on Townsend who has already been taken around the legs by Smith, and collects him in the head.
The error is significant enough to live in the memory of one Storm supporter: “Remember Welch’s penalty in the 16 gf? (sic). Flop tackle in front of the posts after a player was already tackled and it was the 4th tackle? Sharks scored the next play. One of the stupidest penalties I’ve ever seen by a player. Welch has come a long way since …” he commented on a fan website.
On the fourth tackle of the new set Ennis turns the ball inside to Andrew Fifita who then proceeds to score one of the great match winning tries.
The dreadful prospect of having to watch slow motion replays of tries that cost your team a grand final is the reason I couldn’t bring myself to watch the game.
From the time Fifita receives the pass to the time he plants the ball down just three seconds pass.
Real time appears to slow in the drama of the event. Slow motion replays further enhance the agony of it all and reveal how special it is: the number of tacklers, the variation of tackles, and the necessary and manic re adjustments to them. But most prominent and significant is the relentless will of the tackled player.
The prop receives the pass in the middle, six metres out.
His first impact is on Munster. However, Munster’s footing and position are not set as he has come out of the line to pressure Ennis, and Smith is delayed on his shift to the middle by the Sharks hooker’s quiver of a dummy to Gallen approaching on the blindside.
A still image at that point suggests Fifita’s not getting to the line. Welch to his left, Cameron Munster in front, Dale Finucane in the middle of the posts and Tohu Harris hovering near the right upright.
He accelerates off his left getting on the inside and slightly past the unstable Munster rendering his tackle ineffective as the big man’s momentum and drive means the fullback is simply being towed, hanging on for dear life.
The brutal and technically sound defence-machine Finucane goes in and under, hitting hard with his right shoulder but again Fifita’s momentum and greater height allow him to go over the Storm lock who, although still holding on, finds himself going to ground, his legs getting in the way of Munster who will be forced to disengage.
Already, it seems, there may be too many cooks in the kitchen.
Cameron Smith, the head chef, has not yet arrived to try and set matters right.
In the previous tackle Welch has wrapped up and prevented the dangerous Prior from offloading. Instead of staying at marker with Smith he scampers across to the middle to ensure he’s there to prevent a try and rectify his penalty lapse.
Previously obscured by Munster and the enormous figure of Fifita, Welch’s head emerges. He moves in for a powerful tackle but instead his chest trampolines off the head of the falling Finucane. He attempts to reset but in the meantime Fifita, his legs not yet entrapped and still moving, powers again off his left and as he’s collapsing bulldozes Welch to the line just as Smith arrives from the side.
Initially the Storm captain is finding it hard to commit to this assemblage of assimilating limbs and torsos, but as Fifita gets closer to the ground and is finally losing use of his feet, Smith’s able to perform his specialty of slowing the ball carrier’s momentum and turning the player onto his back.
However, before he has the prop fully adhered to the ground, Fifita, ball easily ensconced in his enormous right hand, moves to plant it to his right but something stops him. He’s still slightly twisted the other way and Welch’s leg is on the line so perhaps he fears losing it. Or does he catch in the corner of his eye the introduction of the sixth actor in this slo-mo wrestle for survival?
Tohu Harris has been hanging out bracing himself for a possible offload by Fifita but finally commits and enters just inside the right post. If he remains there Fifita will lose the ball on his left foot. However, he sees the prop preparing to plant the ball over the other side and naturally attempts to slap the ball out of his hands. To do so, he has to lean over and balance on Welch’s shoulders who is seated on the ground struggling to blockade Fifita’s passage to the line.
Understandably, Harris’s effort is clumsy. He tilts forward like a see-saw on Welch’s head and shoulders, swatting blindly at where he thinks the ball is. Before his follow-through is completed Fifita has already started to swing the ball back. Welch is unable to react. He still has Harris pressing down on his head and shoulders and now Harris’ left leg is airborne freeing space for Fifita’s legendary put-down.
Bunker footage from the scoring end shows Fifita bringing the ball over in an arc. Munster’s puppy dog eyes follow it and identify the threat but, trapped in the legs of Finucane at the end of a six foot four body, he can only lean forward and impotently swat at the ball.
There’s one final scene. Cameron Smith, the serenest and smartest man on the field, still has a play. Lying across Fifita from the other side he knows what’s happening. He has to stretch his arm fully to dislodge the ball but can only place minimal pressure on the top of Fifita’s wrist as the ball touches the ground. It is only then that Smith manages to flick the ball from Fifita’s grasp.
Down 12-14 with less than ten minutes remaining Melbourne are confronted with the necessity of changing their relentless errorless defence oriented game. They keep the ball alive, moving sideways looking for weaknesses in the Sharks line.
At 78 minutes, Chambers again takes it on himself to score.
He sidesteps tackles, dummies to Kevin Proctor, sweeps wide and kicks the ball along the sideline managing to slide past Ricky Leutele and then Gerard Beale. The footage switches to a closeup along the sideline showing him regathering the ball, miraculously remaining inside the field, and being tackled by fullback Ben Barba, followed by Beale and Leutele.
What we don’t see in the changed footage is the serious price Chambers and his team are paying for his extreme focus on his heroic exploits: Barba moving out to engage Chambers, leaving Cooper Cronk alone with a 12 metre free passage to the line, and the premiership winning try.
Cronk is waving frantically.
His screams drowned by the screaming sea of blue, 49 years in the making.
Published on The Roar
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