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I pen this as I finally emerge from 72 hours of oblivion following Sunday night’s grand final. That theatrical beast was two hours of the most exhausting emotional abuse I have ever endured – and I’ve been on a Japanese game show.
After a breakneck first half and its finale of gratifying torture, I have taken out a protection order against any repeat broadcasts. I’ve even seen other fans tagging on to random Mad Mondays in the aftermath just to try and sober up to bring themselves down off the high.
Post-grand final hyperbole is never desirable, but that decider changed my life. It compelled me to feel something for Queensland rugby league that wasn’t indigestion, and as I start to come around again, I’m actually yearning for the electroshock of another Origin thrashing to reset my bearings.
We all sometimes lament that league can be a tightly-wound old wench these days, but the Cowboys and Broncos of 2015 will be recalled as one of those ‘tell the grandkids’ sapphires that proves why we’ll all forever be moths to the game’s blazing lightbulb.
So where does this bad boy rank? Personally, outside of any Roosters grand final triumph in any grade right down to Harold Matthews, this one walks among the ‘better than Lego‘ of the 1997 Knights and the kingly 1989 Raiders’ torture of the Tigers, with the Panthers’ fearsomely-tough 2003 triumph in the rain as the undervalued smoky that’s just a shandy behind.
However, if there is one drawback I can make about the evening, it was Wayne Bennett’s post-match gripe about the manner in which the contest was decided. Once again, he handed out a pelting for that rag-dolled method he ranks behind coin-flipping and slapsies, that being golden point.
Much has been said in the last few days, but after letting the dust settle, I reckon the Bronco supercoach was on the money with his criticisms. However he was not totally correct with his suggestions and probably a small week or two off with his timing.
The old man is right; you can’t be deciding premierships that take 26 rounds and four weeks of finals with a comparatively microscopic sample of play that encourages haphazard field goal shootouts and paranoid anxiety among players, and more importantly, referees.
It’s just too cruel on all involved. All of the hard work of the year, the persecution of the pre-season, the cold Monday nights in front of tens of fans and the road trips to Campbelltown, all coming down to one single, dramatic, career-defining moment for one lucky bastard and a life of regret for the other poor bastard who stuffs-up.
Excluding Cold Chisel – who were all types of grouse – think of golden point in grand finals like the game’s rich history of crapola pre-match entertainment. The big one simply deserves better. There’s too much on the line.
On the other hand, I’m sorry Wayne, but we can’t be returning next week. This is the era of instantaneous fulfilment, and most of us will have something more important to do the following weekend, like not making two trips to Homebush in the space of two weeks.
For some of us, there’s also relationships to recoup, while Channel Nine probably has to launch the new season of Australia’s Got the Master Block on the Hot Plate or something. So returning for a second massive Sunday on the cans after accepting an anti-climax simply shan’t be happening.
That’s why the game needs to stick with the five minutes each way concept, but go with the golden try option.
This means for those conservatives, you can keep kicking your field goals, taking your two points and lying down for penalties, and then just hold on until the 10 extra minutes is up, and the game is yours.
Conversely, grow a pair and attack the line, and you open up the possibility to immediately drive away with no more to pay. At the moment you plant one down for four points, or at the very least, the instant the video ref finishes with his seven minute deliberation, the spoils are yours.
Not only does it seem fairer for the players, it also takes the blowtorch off the referees, which is a wonderful thing because we all care about referees. I don’t want to harp on a tired angle, but they’ve been struggling for a while.
I’m sure they would welcome any respite from said blowtorch, because frankly the thing is hot and overused.
This ‘extra time with golden try and other points still thrown in that aren’t golden’ is not a groundbreaking idea, mainly because I’ve stolen it from the millions of other people who have suggested it over the years. But when considering the crux of Bennett’s comments, doesn’t it just seem the right fit for all, or at least this article?
So now that’s settled, do we implement this format in to regular rounds of footy, or just keep it for the finals, or even just grand finals? Or does the idea just stink all round? I’ll leave that up the intelligentsia of The Roarers to decide, because I’m sure there’s a loophole or something in there I’ve probably overlooked – like what would happen if the scores are still tied at the end of 90 minutes. (I’m thinking a pass-the-ball competition).
Bennett’s heart was in the right place with these comments and they sparked an important debate about how a footy game should run its course. Kudos to the grandmaster on this front.
However, what didn’t leave him with unequivocal public acceptance was the fact that he was letting rip with his grumbles about golden point after a game the Broncos had lost in golden point, and was doing so before Johnathan Thurston’s game-winning field goal had even landed.
Sure, he’s just had a lawnmower run over his heart, but by going the soapbox in the immediate moments after running second in one of the nastiest heart-stoppers in history, is it possible it could be construed like sour grapes, even if that wasn’t his intention?
If so, then this is a shame, because there’s nothing worse than seeing a happy-go-lucky guy like Bennett being misrepresented because of some ill-timed commentary. To allow the victors some well-earned time in the sun, perhaps holding off on campaigning until the next day or week could’ve been more fitting.
Better yet, he could’ve taken the tactically sneaky PR angle by cannily timing his suggestions to be shrouded inside the game’s next scandal or amid the next political leadership spill. There would be guaranteed opportunities to have it out in the open before Christmas.
On the other hand, maybe he doesn’t give a rat’s about what anyone thinks, and he’ll talk whenever he damn well wants to, thank you very much. I’m thinking the latter. That’s why he has seven more premierships than the rest of us.
So in summary, Sunday’s was a nail-biting diamond of a match that the game can learn from with a tiny tinker. Keep the excitement but negate the potential for those tragic one-error nightmares for young legends like Ben Hunt.
Bennett, you diabolical genius. Once again, you’re on the money. Sorta, anyway.
And thanks to the Cowboys too. The whole thing was just too much.
I can’t even.