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It’s official: Mal Meninga has agreed to terms to selfishly abandon Queensland, thus allowing him to fulfil his lifelong ambition of coaching his country and being paid at Charlie Sheen rates to do so.
The Maroon demigod is reportedly set to receive $300,000 per year for his services, with the majority of his role focused on burning through nine months of recreation leave while occasionally coaching the Kangaroos when required.
With the gruelling international season ranging anywhere in total from 80 minutes to a month, Meninga’s toe-curling salary equates to an absurd fee-per-match rate that makes me so sick that I’m going to have to hit him up for a hundo.
Does John Grant know how to call ‘held’ on a negotiating table? To pay someone a motza to simply front to camp in uniform and relay some provocative one-liners to a bunch of professionals is like rugby league’s version of Sheen’s sitcom zenith, minus the rampant STDs.
Considering New Zealand and England survive on part-time coaches, and that Tim Sheens was on a paltry $50,000 (although heavily subsided by the Wests Tigers like most of the industry), it reeks of an overreaction to recent Kiwi dominance, or alternatively, a contract typo.
Personally, I think Meninga’s appointment is an ill-thought gamble for reasons other than financial. Sure, the money is extraordinary, but hasn’t anyone learnt that when it comes to significant statesman-like roles, he shouldn’t be offered contracts longer than 53 seconds in length?
I’m also concerned of the fatal blow to the aspiring talent of New South Wales who will now surely be road-blocked by overt Queensland bias.
This is surely the nail in Mitchell Pearce’s international aspirations. Worse still, it will be the inauguration of a saloon passage directly to the jersey for passengers from the north like Johnathan Thurston and Greg Inglis. We probably won’t even need that selection trial ‘Origin’ thing anymore.
However, in all seriousness and with state allegiances grudgingly aside, Meninga is the right man for the job. There, I said it.
After 10 years of record-breaking achievements with the Maroons, all accomplished in the face of relentless taunting about being Michael Hagan’s understudy, the big guy deserves nothing less than to take advantage of the breathtakingly oversized contract on offer from the ARLC.
But do we need him so badly to double the original offer made of $150,000? And for heaven’s sake, would it kill the game to set aside some of their behemoth TV deal instead of tossing it around like they’ve just discovered lap dances?
In the NRL’s defence, I guess it’s their schtick. They love pumping a ceaseless stream of dead facelift money into the Gold Coast, they fund stadiums to deal with non-existent demand, and they just coughed up $2 million for a bunker fitted with a glorified home theatre system.
In comparison, 300 large to Big Mal ain’t nothing more than a chicken wing on a string. And besides, he’ll be busting his guts with ambassadorial duties, so the game will definitely be getting it’s money’s worth in ribbon-cutting and fact-finding jaunts.
So to summarise, the beloved Queenslander is a wonderful appointment but rugby league largesse is rampant and misguided.
Even though grassroots and country footy will probably die in the arse now because they desperately needed the funding that will go towards the new extensions on Meninga’s house, at least Australia should start beating New Zealand again.
Go Australia.