The fairytale narrative is critical to NRL grand final day more than any other fixture. The reasons are not romantic. Most of us follow other teams, so we seek the quick fix of emotional attachment to one of the contenders.
Perhaps it’s naïve, as years of TV bellowing implores us to gamble our way to enjoyment, but this is one part of our sporting culture that remains intact; we crave a connection to a team, and hunt lustily for soft-spot traits. It could be underdog status, perceived moral superiority, a downtrodden region, or decades of injustice. Sometimes, basic scorn for the favourites will do.
But whereas the shoe fit perfectly for Cinderella, we need to use a crowbar for Cronulla. On paper they should be especially worthy of support: a Sydney club with half a century of its own history and a tribal supporter base shouldering their fair share of dignified pain, who arrive in the grand final as genuine underdogs against a team widely regarded as ruthless, dour automatons who win relentlessly. These facts alone should make Cronulla’s claims on the neutral fan irrefutable, but the concept of cheering on Paul Gallen and co feels strange to many.
Tribalism should probably preclude any reference to the other grand final happening in Melbourne over the weekend, but it’s hard to avoid comparison. The Western Bulldogs are a club whose community, like the Shire’s, have endured too many decades without an appearance in the biggest match of the year. Like the Sharks, part of their identity lay in the wandering in-between, repeatedly crawling back up off the canvas following the financial uppercuts that seem to come with being a non-glamour club. They too will battle an entity whose presence is, amongst other things, connected to corporate strategic interests. Unlike the Sharks though, the Bulldogs have enjoyed almost blanket national goodwill.
Why doesn’t that goodwill exist for the Sharks? Perhaps it’s because fairytales tend to necessitate a transcendence of some inherent weakness or injustice. Of course you need more points to win, but the real victory should be moral. For neutrals, words like “peptides” and “biochemists” are hard to shake. Bubblegate, FKL and most recently “The Shark Clap” don’t do many favours either. Some have suggested that these issues are exclusive to the players and administrators – transient figures who don’t best represent the heart of a club.
Cronulla’s reputation, however, isn’t solely built on poor player behaviour. Unlike their underdog cousins in the AFL, the Shire itself is globally notorious for its social insularity. Most fans are “locals”, and you’d be hard pressed to find people who follow the rugby league club on likability alone.
The Sharks aren’t completely irredeemable though. It’s possibly a moot hypothetical, but were their 2001 incarnation lining up on Sunday, they would sit comfortably as the people’s favourite. Names like Peachey, Campbell, Rogers, Stevens and Lang (John and Martin) evoke an era of aggressive football and nice guys. Saturday afternoons at Endeavour Field felt more innocent back then. They were a team that had fully emerged from the cult-Sharks years of Gavin Miller, Mitch Healey, ET and Elle MacPherson to offer something respectable, and very nearly likeable. 2001 was also the year Paul Gallen debuted.
It’s possible that part of our frustration stems from Cronulla’s opposition. That we are forced to grapple with the morality of supporting the Sharks speaks volumes about Melbourne. They are rugby league’s version of George Graham’s Arsenal, famous for consistently winning 1-0. (“14-12 to the Melbourne Storm”, sung to the tune of Pet Shop Boys’ “Go West”, doesn’t seem to have the same ring to it though).
Respect for the Storm’s football is as universal as respect gets in this code, but they’re about as fun as a monosyllabic reply from Phil Gould on Twitter. One suspects Melburnians are proud that their success is in keeping with their city’s sense of sporting superiority, but this game does not matter to decent number of people in any direction of the Yarra River.
That’s why Cronulla is the compelling candidate on Sunday. For their community there is a lot riding on this encounter. Were the Sharks to win the grand final, it would not surprise to see cameras pan to reveal muscular, blond men in the crowd shedding sandy tears of joy. After six grand finals in 11 years, it would however surprise to see Melbourne fans crying.
Both teams already enjoy immense respect from punters but to bastardise a favoured prefix of Roy and HG, “let’s face it”: neutrals are trying very hard this week, because both teams are pretty hard to like.
