Melbourne and Penrith: Who is the greatest?

In the absorbing Stan documentary “Revealed – Craig Bellamy: Inside the Storm” we see the legendary coach seated delivering his final speech before last year’s grand final: “It’s just another wave in the ocean. But this is our wave. We ain’t gonna let them drop in on us. Go and get it. Let’s f#cking go and get it!”.

Compelling words and metaphor, perfect for a team that’s about to claim the premiership.

Except, it didn’t.

Instead, Ivan Cleary and his Panthers would claim an astonishing fourth consecutive title.

I can’t help thinking Bellamy watched that game in awe of Penrith. They are the modern incarnation of his perfect team. Dominance of territory through a dead straight defensive line, perfect contact in tackles, and powerful hitups; inevitably producing errors by tired opposition defenders and exasperated playmakers.

Bellamy had inherited the exhilarating running spine of Ryan Papenhuyzen, Harry Grant, Cameron Munster and Jahrome Hughes but deep down I think he knew he couldn’t beat this ruthless defensive monolith.

As is obvious from previous articles, I am a huge fan of the Melbourne Storm.

My pieces have reiterated the trans-formative effect on an ex Australian Rules player and fan when he wandered over one night in 1998 to the concrete and crumbling Olympic Park to observe, for the first time live, what I had previously dismissed as an unimpressively sluggish and ground based game from New South Wales.

https://www.theroar.com.au/2011/07/24/taking-the-hits-in-rugby-league/

I and many other Melburnians kept returning to the venue and the freezing elements, fog and lack of clear vision. A bond was forged with the game during those nights when we drank with players post match across the road among fans of all demographics and persuasions. I would stand there feeling a little embarrassed by my fandom. But it was special.

The following year we won the grand final.

The story of the Melbourne Storm, unquestionably one of the great ones of Australian sport, had begun.

The story has included all the elements of a compelling sports narrative: salary cap cheating, tales of opposition fear, hatred and jealousy, grudging respect, and unabashed mimicry.

More significant however is the undisputed establishment of the club as the benchmark. Despite the salary cap and wrestling controversies, other clubs have achieved success using the Storm as a blueprint; because, as unpopular a sentiment as this may be, ultimately it wasn’t salary cap cheating that made them successful.

They have been in a 117 year old elite competition for just 28 seasons and played in 11 grand finals. Since the salary cap punishments were handed down in 2010 they have made the preliminary final on eleven occasions. As Ivan Cleary mentioned in his auto biography: “That’s just ridiculous”.

And all but one of these achievements has been under the watch of a single coach.

However, there is a phenomenon – a grain of sand in the eye, a sliver of a kidney stone – ruining this seemingly perfect healthy profile of greatness:

NO consecutive titles.

History shows it’s an extremely difficult thing to achieve but why has a club with such a remarkable record of sustained success been unable to achieve it?

Even during their salary cap affected era when they made 4 consecutive grand finals and were well on their way to a fifth before the sanctions hit during the 2010 season.

The time they appeared closest to achieving back to back titles was when a brilliant team on paper won the 2020 premiership and in 2021 it was one of the great attacking and beautiful looking sides of all time who put the opposition to the sword on a record equaling 19 successive occasions only to taper off with sheer weariness and injury at the back-end, losing eventually in one of the great preliminary finals.

Potential rivals for greatness appeared but soon fell away. I didn’t have cause to feel worried that Storm’s historical significance would be overcome by another club.

But suddenly there came a serious threat: a horde of precociously talented and organised kids appearing out of the blue of the Blue Mountains to claim in four years the same number of premierships it had taken the Storm juggernaut 28 years to achieve.

It is difficult to believe now that on the eve of the 2021 grand final Ivan Cleary had coached the second most games without winning a premiership.

And yet, just four years later, have Cleary’s Panthers surpassed Bellamy’s Storm as the greater outfit?

Cleary’s autobiography published just 10 days after last year’s premiership triumph expresses his admiration for the Storm, describing the lessons he learned watching them suffering defeat against them and more importantly how he based and molded his dominant team on their style and culture. References to the Melbourne Storm are prominent throughout the book.

Even if the Panthers lose out this year – after five consecutive grand finals and four consecutive premierships – they have undoubtedly established themselves as one of the greatest outfits in history but will they accept perishing on the 2025 premiership slope and withering away? I don’t think so. They found a little nook to protect themselves from the elements for Round 26 knowing it would mean a longer route to the top but also that it would make them stronger.

This team is barely human, it’s a block of black granite that doesn’t care for your feelings. There are no linchpins to disable because mechanics don’t apply to it.

They find a reason to win, and will their way there.

Before they had even won their first title in 2021, they appeared cooked in the finals with chronic injuries to key players Nathan Cleary, James Fisher-Harris, Moses Leota, Brian To’o and Dylan Edwards, losing the first final, before scraping past the Eels and then Melbourne, clearly the best team in the competition, before winning the grand final through an intercept try.

In 2023 when Reece Walsh and Ezra Mam found their way through its black wall, they responded with the greatest grand final comeback. Last year’s grand final was all about revenge for 2020.

I want to loath them but I can’t help watching this extraordinary enterprise. Ivan Cleary took an eternity to win a premiership which is why he hasn’t yet been placed in the company of Bellamy and Bennett.

He borrowed from Bellamy but he has taken the austerity and singular focus of the Storm maestro to another level. Intensified and refined it. Yes, a gravy train of youthful talent and a relatively young group but gee what an achievement.

When Will Warbrick pulled off the match winning intercept on Friday night to put the Storm into their 16th preliminary final the glorious memories of Olympic Park were re-woken. The deafening noise generated inside AAMI Park at that moment is testament to one of the brilliant moves in Australian sport to introduce rugby league into AFL territory.

Melbourne’s reign has been a generational one while Penrith’s has been recent and brutal.

If they were both to fall away as powerhouses right now whose record would stand out most in the history books. Melbourne’s asterisked titles, multiple preliminary and grand finals, and on-off premierships, or Penrith’s big meaty block of titles staring you in the face.

Even for a Melbourne Storm fan, the latter is overwhelming.

If they continue to win this year these two dominant clubs will meet in yet another grand final.

Motivation for the Storm will be revenge from last year and to extend further its unbelievable run of success.

Unfortunately, for Craig Bellamy, Ivan Cleary has a greater goal.

Published in The Roar https://www.theroar.com.au/2025/09/17/melbourne-or-panthers-whos-the-greatest-in-nrls-modern-rivalry-between-ruthless-juggernauts/

The 2023 NRL Grand Final. The Iceman vs The Dancer.

On his Bye Round podcast former St Helen’s and Canterbury prop Englishman James Graham asked Kevvie Walters about his thoughts on the 2023 grand final loss to Penrith. The Broncos coach replied: “Immediately I walked onto the ground after the game and Ivan came over and I just shook my head: ‘Mate you’ve got to be joking. How did you do that. How did you guys do that?!’ That’s what I said to him. He said: ‘Oh, I don’t know Kev’. And he just smiled…”.

The public comments attached to the interview gave varying answers from Reece Walsh can’t tackle, Adam Reynolds went missing, the Broncos went into their shell, to Nathan Cleary performing a solo master class.

Penrith’s victory was the greatest ever grand final comeback, surpassing Melbourne Storm’s magnificent second-half hunting down of St George Illawarra in 1999 (the subject of my next grand final summary).

For me, there are two defining images from the game.

The first is of Isaah Yeo – Penrith’s spiritual leader  – on his haunches, concussed. Dazed, he’s looking at the video screen and about to be removed from the field for a HIA.

Jarome Luai has succumbed to his injured shoulder, and Brisbane is ahead 24-8 after a ten minute blitzkrieg of Penrith’s feared defensive line.

The game is nearly three quarters done and as good as over.

The break in play allows Penrith fans to appreciate why a three-peat is rare, and to honour their team for making four consecutive grand finals.

For Brisbane supporters it provides an opportunity to take in what has just happened; the realisation that the premiership has been secured and the sorrow of 2015 has been expunged.

For the aesthetes of attacking football it’s validation of their tastes; the ruthless defensive game of Penrith (inspired by and modeled on Craig Bellamy’s austere early teams) being finally dismantled by the free spirited party boys Ezra Mam and Reece Walsh.

Instead, the break proves Brisbane’s undoing.

It allows Penrith time to recover and reassess. Luai’s replacement Jack Cogger becomes first receiver to allow Nathan Cleary to perform his methodical magic.

Brisbane repeat the mistake of its 2015 forebear by attempting to protect the lead instead of continuing to attack a vulnerable opponent.

Immediately after the Yeo incident they receive a penalty and execute an attacking raid involving offloads by Walsh and Payne Haas. With three tackles up their sleeve Brisbane cross the 10 metre line through Herbie Farnworth who, with Penrith’s defensive line bunched, passes to forward Keenan Palasia who has space to the try line. The pass is too forceful and a little behind Palasia but the forward shows no real intent as he clearly thinks his is a dummy run. There are no support players as Adam Reynolds and Walsh have set themselves back for the next play. Farnworth’s pass hits open ground to be pounced on by Crichton and Penrith almost reach the half way mark on the 2nd tackle.

It proves to be the last orchestrated attacking run by Brisbane. Penrith will go on to score three tries. Brisbane won’t score again.

The second defining image of the match is that of Nathan Cleary about to plant the ball in what will prove to be the premiership winning try. In the background – on his knees and looking down – is Reece Walsh.

There are other significant figures in the contest: Broncos five-eighth Ezra Mam immediately after halftime and Panthers centre Stephen Crichton in the final 20 minutes.

But it was always going to come down to the actions of the two superstars, Nathan Cleary and Reece Walsh.

Completely different, equally mesmerising, Walsh and Cleary embody the nature of their respective teams.

Cleary has the calmness of a man who knows God is looking down, guiding him. He resembles a bird of prey searching for an ill timed movement. The jutting brow like the top of a bunker hiding the dark scheming eyes.

Referred to as ‘The Iceman’ in the match commentary, he shares the mindset – cerebral and almost emotionless – of Michael Fassbender’s clinical assassin in David Fincher’s brilliant film, The Killer: “It all comes down to preparation, attention to detail… keep calm, keep moving”.

In the afterword to his father Ivan’s recent autobiography Not Everything Counts But Everything Matters, he writes: “When we were down 24-8 against the Broncos in the 2023 grand final we still had the belief that – somehow – we could win. The work we had done on the mental side of our game meant we were always in the moment”.

One aspect of the mental game is learning the art of maintaining composure while suffering from fatigue. It hides the reality of your pain and vulnerability from opponents, and perhaps even from yourself.

In the same book, Ivan Cleary explains: “At Penrith, strong body language is something we pride ourselves on. Hands on hips are fine. Hands on your knees or head show your opponent you’re tired”.

At the 14th minute, Fox Sports’ Michael Ennis notes: “They’re out on their feet here, Brisbane. So much emotional build up… Billy Walters gasping for air.”

Walters, Kotoni Staggs and Jordan Riki have their hands on their knees. Thomas Flegler, unable to get back into the line, has his behind his head.

No doubt the Penrith players have noticed too and been encouraged by the sight

Despite being made a fool by a line breaking Mam and then Walsh, both of which result in tries, and again when Walsh threatens to score the match winner inside the final ten minutes, Cleary keeps his composure.

With the Panthers 8-24 you can imagine him thinking: “Two tries five minutes apart, and me scoring to win with a couple of minutes to go. Plenty of time”.

Reece Walsh is the Vaslav Nijinsky of the NRL (“I’m not an ordinary man. I’m a dancer. You will understand me when you see me dance.”).

He’s a creature at the whim of the spirits.

At definitive moments a light force within suddenly sets those luminous eyes ablaze. Made more mesmerising and nerve wracking for defenders by the long dark lashes, they glow with exhilaration as he leaps, fends, prances and pirouettes – effortlessly and magnificently – through the defensive line.

However, these scintillating runs come at a price. A sensitive soul in a body not entirely suited to the brutal business of rugby league, Walsh is prone to fatigue, mental lapses, niggling injuries and anxiety which he struggles to disguise.

Just three minutes into the contest Fox Sports’ Warren Smith notes: “Reece Walsh, nervous at the back of the scrum” following a crunching hip tackle by Liam Martin on Herbie Farnsworth which causes a knock-on and melee.

Walsh looks distracted and disorganised.

Commentator Billy Slater, the master of the full back defensive role, has his eye on Walsh throughout the game as he defends his line.

Shortly afterwards, as Brisbane repel Penrith, he cops a stray boot and is seen with the trainer grimacing and limping. Would Penrith fullback Dylan Edwards have shown he was was hurt?

In the 19th minute Penrith score the first try when Herbie Farnsworth taps the ball from Adam Reynold’s short line drop-out into open space only to be pounced on by Mitch Kenny who scores unopposed.

He is unopposed because Walsh, instead of standing on the line in front of the play as a fullback should, is wandering aimlessly, hands on hips, around the in-goal area. As the try is scored Broncos lock Patrick Carrigan casts a glance at Walsh but doesn’t say anything.

For most of the entertaining first half of the 2023 Grand Final it appeared all Penrith had to do for a third consecutive title was feed efficiently off Brisbane errors. Thomas Flegler’s 40th minute try changes things.

And then comes the exhilarating period immediately after halftime when Mam scores a hat-trick of tries in ten minutes.

These three occasions provide a rare sight: Penrith looking vulnerable.

Mam’s first line-break has him dissecting big man Lindsay Smith and Izack Tago and sprinting to the corner with Dylan Edwards closing rapidly. Unable to get hold of Mam as he plants the ball, the momentum sends the gallant Edwards slicing awkwardly through the sideline on his left arm until he becomes stationary and rights himself. Kneeling and out of breath he looks despondently across at the celebrating Broncos.

The replay of the third try – spawned by Walsh and therefore the most spectacular of the trio – is caught superbly by the front-on camera.  Walsh performs a majestic vertical leap and on landing plants an explosive left foot on the advancing Cleary. For once, the Penrith halfback appears mesmerised by Walsh (those eyes, those thighs) and left humiliated on the turf.

The Broncos fullback has advanced fifteen metres before Cleary summons the will to turn and watch the try unfold. Walsh then puts a step on Liam Martin, who also hits the ground, and immediately fends off Tago. The Penrith centre, recovering from the shove, goes through the motions of a chase. When Walsh offloads to Mam, Sunia Turuva, arriving from the opposite wing, takes over the doomed pursuit.

In the slow motion replay of Mam’s run, the despondent faces of Yeo, Cleary, Martin and Edwards are clearly seen in the background before slowly moving out of focus as the Bronco five-eighth extends the distance.

The hat-trick is a result of line breaks, two from their own half, down their left side.

Inexplicably, they don’t attack that edge again. On the few occasions they do threaten in the final 20 minutes they come down their right side towards one of Penrith’s most lethal defenders, Stephen Crichton.

Up to the Moses Leota try in the 65th minute, Brisbane has committed nine errors to Penrith’s one and yet has six line breaks to none and scored four tries to one. They have discovered and exploited their strength and Penrith’s weakness.

This was the time to seal the match but at no point do they attempt to pressure the Panthers last line of defence, to force an error or line drop-out; unlike Crichton who executes three kicks close to the Broncos line, two of which prove decisive in the final match winning breach.

James Graham recently said that if you make an error against Penrith, it takes – given the game has not been taken out of your reach by then – ten sets to regain your equilibrium.

Penrith rarely make mistakes and misjudgments and usually punish other teams for theirs. As the second half progresses you sense that Brisbane are going to pay for their timidity in attack.

The first worrying sign for the Broncos comes at the 63rd minute when Brendan Piakura, freshly on the field, engages a slipping Luke Garner. Piakura fails to fully commit to the tackle and assuming, incorrectly, that it’s completed releases Garner who returns to his feet and continues his run with a disturbing lack of urgency both from Piakura and the other defenders.

In the next play Cleary dissects Kurt Capewell and Mam – replicating what the Broncos five-eighth did to he and Yeo – and offloads to Moses Leota for a free run to the try line.

On the third tackle of the next set Cleary kicks a 40-20 across to Selwyn Cobbo’s wing. The commentators suggest Cobbo is too slow to respond. Cooper Cronk on Fox Sports also mentions Walsh is not in the centre of the ground.

No try ensures for the Panthers but during the following promising set from the Broncos, lock Patrick Carrigan knocks on at the half way line after receiving an accidental head knock from James Fisher-Harris.

Almost immediately Penrith make Brisbane pay when Cleary sets up Crichton for a try.

It is, of course, significant. The game is about to enter the final ten minutes and Penrith have reduced the deficit to a mere unconverted try.

Michael Ennis trumpets: “If you thought this championship side was going to just roll over and let the Broncos take the premiership trophy across the border. No chance!”.

The try unfolds in a blink of an eye but there is a lot going on. The most obvious is the strength, technique, self belief, and sheer arrogance of the champion Penrith centre. But he is also the beneficiary of some good fortune and lapses from the Brisbane defenders.

When Kotoni Staggs engages, Crichton is already beside and outside him. Staggs, the shorter man has the ball carrier’s outstretched right arm holding him off, and is forced to reach up to strip the ball. Crichton easily wrenches the ball from his counterpart’s feeble grasp. Cobbo, who had been correctly marking Sunia Turuva on the outside, is forced to take over.

With Staggs dangling like a corpse at the end of his right arm Crichton’s presents the ball on a left hand platter for Cobbo who grabs it with both hands. At that moment Crichton’s right foot lands on Cobbo’s left and the body of Staggs slides underneath causing him to fall backwards taking the ball out of Cobbo’s reach. Walsh has arrived, too late and too fast to make substantial contact with the slipping figure and is propelled over the sideline.

Walsh’s reliance on his speed and propensity for leaping and overreaction can be liabilities for last line defence which requires a solid base and intense focus on the ball player.

As Crichton lands fully on the unfortunate Staggs, he rolls over and slams the ball down. Cobbo watches the grounding and mouths an obscenity.

The try brings a sense of the inevitable. Ten minutes left for the relentless Panthers to suffocate the life out of the gallant but fading Broncos.

Still, they defend their line desperately. Courageously and miraculously, Kobe Hetherington presents himself as a barricade to a Leota power drive for the try line, damaging himself in the process.

Staggs charges dramatically from his line to shut down Cleary. The usual result of such an action is a side step and line break, or an offload to a teammate into a yawning gap to the try line. Instead, the Bronco centre connects with perfect timing, positioning and power; the ball slamming into Cleary’s chest sending it hurtling 20 metres backwards.

In the 71st minute and on the second tackle Walsh produces another scintillating run from the back half sliding from the left to the right side beating a never ending line of defenders, and is tackled thirty five metres from Penrith’s line. Rather than exploiting the speed of play and the ruffled defence, Mam then simply lobs the ball to a stationary Capewell.

Since his line-breaking heroics and performances for the camera twenty minutes earlier, Mam – unlike Cogger – has shown little urgency or creativity.

Then, on the last tackle twenty metres out, Reynolds hands the ball to Piakura whose is immediately brought down.

With seventy two minutes gone, Crichton executes a grubbing kick intended for the in-goal area. Walsh is out of position and a little slow to react but retrieves it. He slides onto his back stopping just inches outside the try-line when he is struck in the back of the head by Turuva’s stray knee. He reacts in pain, likely expecting a penalty to ensure. Remember, there have been several accidental head knocks throughout the match that have not resulted in penalties. “The bunker OK with that?”, asks a doubtful Michael Ennis.

Walsh is grimacing, ball in one hand, his head in the other. I’m thinking: “Twist, turn over, scramble back, hold your ground. Do something … anything to avoid a line drop-out!”. Instead, he remains a passive target for a Crichton flop tackle whose impact propels him over the line.

At the 75th minute Reynolds kicks on the 4th despite there being plenty of time and space. Walsh is behind him and Piakura, Staggs and Cobbo are on his outside with a paddock in front and a staggered defensive edge in the distance.

Surely an attacking raid, or simply gaining further metres is preferable to presenting an easy ball to a rampaging Brian To’o on his thirty metre line.

There is just five minutes left and they are an unconverted try in front. The game should have been over long ago but they make errors of judgement and produce timid handovers.

Then in the 78th minute, the two superstars come together for the match defining play.

Walsh is at marker on Penrith’s tryline with tackler Jordan Riki. Scott Sorensen plays the ball to hooker Mitch Kenny who sends it to Cleary about six metres out. As the half back receives the ball Walsh has advanced five metres into play with Kenny and Sorensen between him and Cleary.

He has no reason to be there. The two Penrith forwards are marked by Carrigan and Payne Haas, and are obscuring his view of the play.

Again, he should be back near the tryline marking the ball player.

Rather than passing to Crichton which he has been doing throughout the last 20 minutes, the Penrith half back puts a left foot on the leaden-footed and fatigued Reynolds and accelerates past Walters. Riki, who is rushing across from marker, is unable to stop his sideways momentum and prevent Cleary sliding past him also.

It is only at this moment that Walsh responds, having to sprint back and across from behind Kenny and Sorensen to plant an ineffective arm on Cleary’s shoulder who shrugs it off and continues his run to ground the ball in front of the goal posts, ensuring a premiership winning conversion.

Even up to the final thirty seconds, Walsh is still the only man capable of snatching the premiership back as he accelerates through Cogger and Crichton. With the former around his feet and the latter on his back the maestro looks for support. As has been the story for the last twenty minutes for Brisbane none is forthcoming and he turns it over, sealing the fate of his team.

Crichton reacts by clenching his fists and screaming at the back of Walsh’s head; an illustration of the threat this exhilarating and flawed genius poses even for a side as good as Penrith.

Cleary rarely elicits such fiery responses from the opposition. And yet he proves the greater threat. Perhaps it comes down to what Andy Murray said when he was trying to explain what made him special: “My brain works differently to most people. Most people that get to the very, very top of anything are wired slightly differently”.

The basis of Penrith’s rise to greatness was the development of their vast number of juniors under Phil Gould’s watch.

But it took the trauma of the 2020 grand final loss to Melbourne to complete the foundation.

“Plenty of teams say they never watch a grand final. But in 2020 we wanted to learn from our defeat – and we did.”, states Ivan Cleary in his book. They go on to win four consecutive titles.

Kevvie Walters made his reluctant players watch their defeat for the same reason. They fail to make the finals in 2024 and Walters is sacked at the end of the season.

Published on The Roar

https://www.theroar.com.au/2025/06/07/when-it-really-matters-how-the-iceman-went-toe-to-toe-blow-for-blow-with-the-dancer-in-2023-nrl-decider/

Is the Storm in decline and does the game want them dead?

These are strange times. The pandemic, while ushering in fear and uncertainty, has also had a hand in fomenting unrest.

Grievances are taking hold. Revenge for perceived injustice and past emasculation is being exacted.

Revolt is in the air, even in rugby league.

But let’s go back twenty two years to the night of Friday 3 April 1998 when the story of the Melbourne Storm really began.

The undefeated Storm had to wait until round 4 before they got to play their first home game at Olympic Park that drew more than a passing interest from the 20,500 AFL-bred Melburnians who turned up.

The down market venue struggled to get thousands in on time and when they did many were forced to sit it out on the edge of the athletics track surrounding the playing field.

They kept returning because the Storm kept winning. The opposition, with the startled expressions of exotic wildlife at a wet market, would stumble out into the screeching vocals of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck and the mist and the frost and the booing.

Olympic Park came to be known as The Graveyard. But a graveyard is a quiet resting place for the departed. This crumbling concrete and corrugated iron roofed amphitheatre in a rugby league backwater was a slaughterhouse.

In an article I wrote on The Thrilla In Manila, one of the great heavyweights fights of all time between Ali and Frazier, a Roar respondent said he knew someone, seated behind Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, who was spattered with blood and saliva from the bout whose mesmerising brutality summoned the sad decline of both fighters.

None of the novices in the Olympic Park crowd were covered in blood and saliva but the sound of the impacts during that first game left a lasting impression.

Taking the hard hits in rugby league

Melbourne’s response to their team shouldn’t have come as a surprise, really. Four years earlier across the road at the MCG a world record league crowd of over 87,000 attended the second State of Origin clash.

During that match Peter Sterling expressed the pride of traditional league fans at the response to their game in AFL land when he said to fellow commentator Ray Warren: “Gets the heart pumping doesn’t it Ray?”.

I believe in the two decades since that pride has turned to resentment.

On the competition’s return from the shutdown the rules were suddenly changed. The Peoples Chairman Peter V’Landys claimed he was responding to fan polls calling for a more attacking game. The reasons given were based on enhanced aesthetics and, to be fair, on viewing the game there is some validity to that.

However, I believe the prime reason for the sudden change to a single referee and the six again rule is testament to the greatness of the Melbourne Storm. They had to change the rules to bring down an empire.
And I’m sure it was hoped that their fellow superpower, the similarly defence oriented Roosters, would crumble beside them.

And on the back of a recommendation and dossier by a certain former club chairman, a vehement critic of the Storm, the NRL commissioned a report on the ‘blight’ of wrestling in the game.

The results failed to back up those assumptions. It found less than 10% of tackles and 4% of play-the-balls involved any form of wrestling and that no club performed such tackles more than any other.

To further assuage the traditionalists, V’Landys ignored the success of the Melbourne Storm and its contribution to the game when discussing the location of a new team: “No good spending a lot of money in rusted-on AFL states. You want to go to the states that have the population that loves the game.”

You won’t find supporters who love the game more than those who follow the Storm Pete. The membership numbers and the game and television audiences are proof of that.

The only rust here was on the old Olympic Park turnstiles which ushered in a new compelling era for your game. They have since been replaced by electronic ones and the Storm fans continue to pass through.

There has been evidence of a decline. It looked like the party was over just three years in after the departure of players and inaugural coach Chris Anderson. They failed to make the finals in 2001, and in 2002 when the  laconic teenager Cameron Smith turned up.

The following year saw the arrival of a coach, who had learned under the greatest at the time, and a little punk called Billy Slater.

Then, in 2014, everything aligned with the recruitment of another boyishly named nobody in Cooper Cronk.

A trio of Queensland youngsters whose abilities and superhuman work ethics would forever haunt the rest of the competition, but especially the club that let them by.

Four consecutive grand final appearances, three consecutive minor premierships and two premierships followed before THAT day arrived 22 April 2010 when David Gallop announced THOSE penalties for systematic breaches of the salary cap of 3.7 million over 5 years.

The erroneous assumption that Gallop and many understandably angry fans made at the time was that the Storm had ‘bought’ themselves success. Now while this isn’t an excuse for the rorting, they didn’t – and still haven’t – bought any star players during the Bellamy era.

Even after the departures of Cronk and Slater the club looked inwards. It didn’t work out for Brodie Croft so they turned to a fullback Jahrome Hughes who has slowly but surely become a potent number seven. And Slater’s replacement, the sinewy “third string” Tigers reject, Ryan Papenhuysen will most likely be making his Origin debut after only one full NRL season.

As Bellamy has lamented from the start, the club is outside the game’s heartland and is forced into luring youngsters and rejects from there and turning them into champions only to see the other clubs come poaching, and yet it doesn’t receive any compensation or salary cap concessions.

The team’s dominance was seen to be due to the fortuitous recruitment and illegal retention of the Big Four.

The first major victim of the salary cap scandal was the great Greg Inglis who went on to help the Rabbitohs win a title with his former Storm assistant Michael Maquire as coach. Then one of the great half backs of the modern era left … for love, but in so doing helped another club win consecutive premierships. Then the greatest fullback of all time retired to a chorus of boos and abuse.

One recent TV skit by Nathan Hindmarsh and Bryan Fletcher, a time-travel piece, opens with:-

The year is 2060… and Cameron Smith [cut to an image of a grey haired and bearded Storm captain] is playing his 63rd [actually it would be his 59th] season for the Melbourne Storm”. We then see three versions of Hindmarsh – a current day, a middle aged, and a sickly elderly one – seated together on a couch. One of them picks up the remote and asks: “Time for some league boys?”. One replies: “As long it’s not a rerun of the 2009 Grand Final.” Another mutters: “F…ing Melbourne Storm!” and the third follows with: “F…ing cheating bastards!”

It’s been a running gag among his contemporaries since Hindmarsh’s retirement that the 330 game Parramatta great failed to win a premiership. Despite his good natured response to the jibes (and the fact that Parramatta are now officially cheats also), the aforementioned 2009 Grand Final loss to a team later found to be rorting the salary cap must burn deeply.

Although witty and lighthearted the skit expresses the exasperation, if not underlying contempt, for the way the Storm have achieved their seemingly never ending success. Also significant is its identification of Smith, the greatest player of all time according to Andrew Johns, as the lynch-pin of the club’s modern reign.

Most supporters would gladly have the family pet Cavoodle put down if it would get Cameron Smith to their club yet they still view him as the embodiment of arrogance, sly diplomacy and questionable morality.

In response to the incessant booing before, during and after his final game in the 2018 grand final loss to the Roosters, Billy Slater could have been excused for replying: “You’ve just won the competition, with the help of our great former halfback, and one of the greatest players of all time is retiring and will no longer cause you palpitations playing against your club and State, so give me some respect you lousy b——s!”

Instead, realising the nature of fan passion, Slater responded with: “If Wally Lewis can cop boos, I’ll be OK with it.”
I think many in the media have also had a gutful of the Storm.
There are at least two journalists who regularly ooze contempt for the club. It began with the salary cap and the use of wrestling and the supposed “dark arts of jiu jitsu” and now focuses on Cameron Smith’s influence on referees.
And however hard he may try, Greg Alexander (“Was there a Storm hand in there, I think there was …. surely that was a Melbourne forward pass!”) just can’t hide his bias against the team.

Phil Gould – with the fearsome features of Jabba The Hutt and the wisdom of Yoda – issues intense monologues on the nature of the game. A former NSW State of Origin winning coach who had witnessed the salary cap rorting and yet still wrote the foreword to Craig Bellamy’s 2013 autobiography Home Truths:-

“Melbourne Storm is everything you want your football team to be. They take kids, develop and nurture them, and turn them into champions. Every club would like to do that.”

These days, however, he has become more critical or simply tired of their influence on the game hence his increasingly unenthusiastic, almost biased, commentary of their matches.

On Jahrome Hughes’ equalising try off an error against the Roosters in Round 8, compare Andrew John’s comments with those of Gould:-

Johns: “They’re just an incredible club. Think of the legends they’ve lost. Other teams lose legends in certain positions and they struggle for years. This club just keeps powering on”.

Gould: “Another fortunate try for the Storm”.

Despite winning the opening games in two of the toughest road trips against Manly and Cronulla, the Storm were disappointing in their Round 3 loss to the then premiership favourites, an impressive Canberra.
Gould had this to say: “They [Storm] are not the side they were. It’s been an incremental decline in them over the years. “I don’t see a premiership in them this year, I don’t even really see a top four”

Incremental decline? They were last year’s minor premiers by three games and a massive points differential and the same two years before that when they won the premiership at a canter. Ten minutes from the 2018 regular season ending it looked they had that minor premiership sewn up too before the Roosters steamrolled Parramatta.

Understandably many were hostile towards the Victorian team on its arrival at a time other clubs were facing extinction or amalgamation.

But many good judges saw the Storm’s entry as a bit of a joke: a band of Super League leftovers and eager youngsters with an ageing decaying former star as captain by the name of Lazarus (but, unlike his namesake, was deemed beyond resurrecting).

Even the locals were sceptical about the club’s prospects. However their success was immediate. Those who had previously been giggling into their Tooheys at the prospect of playing a motley crew thrown together in a pathetic attempt to make the game a national one couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Suddenly the narrative changed to one of invasion sponsored by News Ltd. It became the story of cultural appropriation of the game.

It’s said the Storm introduced the wrestle. What’s wrong with introducing something? There is strong evidence that Wayne Bennett introduced it but Bellamy perfected it.

Everyone says how great the game was before the Storm became dominant. I don’t agree. Perhaps viewing themselves as outsiders with something to prove they saw the game as a novice might: tackled players wobbling and thrashing about on the ground like suffocating fish in order to milk penalties and stiff-arm cheap-shot tackles.

I believe the game has become more aesthetic. Organised defences and perfectly executed shoulder on shoulder, shoulder on hip tackles.

And has it really been an empire? Four premierships (two stripped) from eight grand finals. Went very close in 2006 and 2016. Were never in it in 2008 and 2018. Didn’t make the Big One after winning the minor premierships in 2011 and 2019. Seven minor premierships (three stripped).

But the success of a team can be gauged on its influence on other clubs’ eagerness to import a winning culture. At the start of the season six of the NRL coaches were former Storm assistants.

Also, it doesn’t take long to forget that a player used to be at another club. I watched the Cowboys in one of their games and realised they had four former Storm players in the team. Former premiership players Jordan McLean and Justin O’Neill, Ben Hampton and young star Scott Drinkwater.

When Ryan Papenhuysen kicked that long range drop goal to level the scores against the Roosters there was a chap behind the posts with a towel and water bottle, his head following the ball’s curving trajectory willing it to miss. It was Matt King. The former garbo and Cronulla reserve team bench warmer who the Storm picked up and made a star.

Nick Politis admitted he bought Cooper Cronk to win the competition and to use him – just as he intends to use Sonny Bill Williams – as a coach and mentor after retirement.

Both Luke Keary and James Tedesco have attributed their rise to superstardom to the former Storm orchestrator.

Brisbane, their grand final vanquishers of 2006, have been a rabble ever since against Melbourne. Manly, the great rival of Storm’s modern era, and Cronulla have come and gone as genuine premiership contenders. And that’s no criticism; it’s a tough relentless competition.

So how have Melbourne remained at the pinnacle?

It’s exhausting being at the top. I watch other games and they are rarely at the same intensity as those involving Melbourne. Every side – those on the rise wanting to prove their premiership credentials and those at the bottom with no prospect of a finals berth in the foreseeable future – play at grand final intensity against them.

Titans and Queensland prop Jarrod Wallace recently commented that beating Melbourne in a regular season game back in 2017 was his most memorable victory in club football.

For all his success in league and boxing, Anthony Mundine, by his own admission, remains haunted by the Storm and his mistake in that 1999 Grand Final.

Australian writer Robert Dessaix wrote: “Can there be a more important word than ‘home’ to make your own in the English language? “Love” I suppose, although I wonder sometimes if they might amount to much the same thing”

Virtually no one at the Storm hails from here. For the several New Zealanders it’s at least closer to home than Sydney. They’re closer knit for being outsiders. And with the current forced cohabitation in Queensland it seems, if club footage is anything to go by, they have become even closer.

The necessity of having to create a home for its recruits is shared by Canberra, who have an equally dreadful climate and unwelcome culture for kids spawned on the beaches of Sydney and Queensland.

On the excellent but now defunct all-female host show League Life, Ricky Stuart was asked how difficult it was to attract young players from places like Bondi, Manly and Cronulla to the bureaucratic icy wasteland of the nation’s capital. With his usual surliness Stuart refused to concede the disadvantages of his location and instead repeated: “They’ll play for me!”

Fed up with potential recruits deciding to stay home or back-flipping on deals he came up with the brilliant idea of summoning a squadron of forwards from the north of England used to ordinary weather. I assume he didn’t tell them that despite being half way to Sydney, Canberra is actually colder than Melbourne; or that training in Wigan and Hull during the middle of summer is preferable to training in Canberra in mid winter.

Cameron Munster after a game commented: “We miss Melbourne. That’s our home and we’ll never forget what Victoria has done for us as a club”.

A ‘V’ with the words ‘Our home, Victoria’ now has a permanent place on the front of the jersey. I think that should be a source of pride for the game.

So what are the Storm’s secrets?

All recruits, Brenko Lee being the latest, say the same thing: meticulous preparation, hard work and gaining self belief. And without exception, whether they’ve been at other clubs or believed they were never going to get to play NRL, they mention their pride at being given a Storm jersey.

The great clubs have no diseased segments. Everyone works to the best of their ability (without admitting to themselves they’ve achieved their best) towards the same goal which is success. Successful culture is about winning but it also has the more endearing aspects of mateship and passion. It’s extremely difficult to pull that off, even with a financial advantage which the Storm, being a one city (albeit an AFL one) team, and the Roosters whose board is stacked with business gurus who can legally exploit the third party system, certainly have.

For the Storm, I’m sure the level of success will end, eventually. The one failing so far has been the lack of promotion of Victorian talent to the elite level. Without an AFL style draft this may be the club’s eventual undoing.

Soon they bid farewell to three more players they made into stars, as Josh Addo-Carr, Suliasi Vunivalu and Tino Faasuamaleaui, return home and/or take advantage of their enhanced market values.

After the retirement of Bellamy and Smith will promising youngsters and rejects still travel south in the belief they will be coached by the best?

Whether the changes this club have brought to rugby league are good bad or ugly, or a combination of the three will depend on your perspective. Some judgements will be measured, others will be tainted with envy and resentment, or blind passion for the club.

When the northern border is reopened I wonder if the soon to be completed bronze statues of Cameron Smith and Billy Slater will, as is consistent with the mood of the times, be pulled down by a mob chanting “Cheats and Grubs!” and hurled into the sludge lined shallows of the Yarra River.

Or strung up from the rafters of AAMI Park as a warning to Victorians, who dare to excel at a sport that’s not their own.

I appreciate not everyone wants the Storm dead; rather that they just become an ordinary team, for a little while at least. I can understand that.

To the NRL, I thank you for allowing the great game to take hold down here. I realise it’s been controversial and that for many the experiment has been too successful.

But it has been a compelling time. The story of the Melbourne Storm is one of the great ones in Australian sport.

Published on The Roar

Are the Storm in decline and does the game want them dead?