It is said of South Sydney fans that even after a win they’ll race home to watch the replay and still be nervous about the result. From dear sweet Russell Crowe down, Souths supporters bleed the green blood of Ming the Merciless.
After Brisbane Broncos five-eighth Anthony Milford landed a drop-goal to beat the Bunnies by a point on Friday night, Souths fans, and with them the greater fanbase and punditry of this great game, dug out the pitchforks and demanded retribution. Demanded justice. Demanded that someone make the pain go away.
What happened? It’s the 78th minute of the Friday night fixture at ANZ Stadium and the scores are locked up 24-all. It’s been a hard-fought game and Souths have been right in it. They were down 18-8 at half-time but scored three tries in 10 minutes to lead by six. The try that tied the game was contentious. The memory of “injustice” was fresh and fermenting.
And so the Broncos rumble down field and attain fine field position, 20 metres out, in front of the sticks. Andrew McCullough flings back an ordinary, floating bit of kit to Milford who bends down and scoops it up, beats his pursuing would-be tackler with a hot step off his right leg and lands a 30m field goal off his non-preferred left. It’s a brilliant bit of skill.
And (in real time, mind, not after they’d watched replays) the commentariat is fulsome in praise, asking rhetorically “What about that?” in regards to the excellent Milford, even if they were a little let down given all the Souths fans, the underdogs, the need to pump the game’s tyres, the deliciousness of golden point, and all that.
And then they show a replay. “Ho-ho! Knock-on,” booms Warren Smith in his Warren Smith way. “Knock-on!” agrees Fox Sports colour man Kevin Walters. And over on Nine they are as one: “Knock-on”. And everyone on their couches, in the pubs, watching on a phone on a train to Toowoomba, wherever, agrees – it was a knock-on and the Rabbits were robbed.
But they were not. It was not a knock-on. Watch it. Milford scoops the ball up beautifully. His hands take in the pill as if he is cradling a baby. And off he goes, this crackerjack five-eighth, to pivot off his right leg, and kick that baby right between the posts with his non-preferred left leg. The skill of that … brilliant, under pressure.
It wasn’t a “bobble”. The ball did not project towards the opposition’s goal line. The rule says: “If at any time the ball is dropped forwards by an attacker and hits the ground or another player, this constitutes a knock on.”
Milford didn’t drop the ball. He was in control of the ball. His right hand cradles it. The ball hits the ground, yes, but he is in control of it. He owns that hamburger. He’s cradling it like baby Jesus. And then he scoops it up and kicks Jesus to bejeezus. And that’s the game but people didn’t like it because such is rugby league. As Rush Limbaugh said of Trump voters, emotion beats fact every time.
Souths coach Michael Maguire rumbled into the post-match presser and said with the emotion – the “passion” – of a man whose team were robbed: “We’re spending a lot of money in areas of our game and we’ve got to get them right, especially in moments like that. Those games change your season. Those two points are what every team is fighting for. We’ve got a multi-million dollar system in place and everyone in this room saw it.”
Everyone saw something. And though their eyes, heads and heart said one thing, visual evidence and the very laws of the game say another. And surely we only want facts. Don’t we?
And thus there are again calls for a “captain’s call” to prevent “clangers” like this. It might sound good to eliminate the “howler” and “clanger” that one million people can see was wrong but has been ruled otherwise. And maybe the Bunker would have gone with the commentariat and greater unwashed and ruled a knock-on for Milford’s catch. It would have been wrong and against the spirit of the game.
But a “captain’s call” to further analyse and debate and slow things down to the minute mega-pixel? All while the game’s running in real time? It would be a disaster.
Firstly, it wouldn’t be the players, or even the captain, making the call. It would be the sharpies on the laptops in the coaches box getting a message out to the water bottle carrying version of Allan Langer. And they wouldn’t use it only for suspected “clangers”, they’d use it for everything, because isn’t every wrong decision a clanger?
They’d use it strategically, to hold things up. To pressure referees. They’d send their captains to question referees in games. Like in cricket they’d use it because they may as well. They’d use it incorrectly. And then they’d run out of captain’s calls and there’d be a “howler” in the 78th minute and the team couldn’t challenge, and people would want to further change the blessed game of rugby league by instituting unlimited captain’s calls because what if it happened in a grand final.
Yes, the old staple of talkback radio and internet gibber-jabber, the old and still giving, “what if it happened in a grand final?” What if Souths played Brisbane in the 2017 grand final and Anthony Milford had “knocked-on” and dobbed a field goal?
Well, you’d have to suck it up. You wouldn’t like it but that’s footy. Sometimes you have suck it up. Suck a lemon. Eat a cold bowl of porridge. You can’t officiate rugby league based on people crying in their porridge because they don’t like the result. Stuff Rush Limbaugh.
Anyway. What they should do is brush golden point. And that’s something Souths fans probably would agree with. This week, anyway.
