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With the Melbourne Storm head and shoulders above the pack again, there’s no better time to rehash why everything they do is wrong.
For those not versed in establishmentarian bias, Melbourne – the most astutely administered, perennially successful league club – are the worst because the ‘N’ in NRL stands for New South Wales, not ‘neighbourly’.
These remote immigrants somehow snuck through our extreme vetting process in the haze of the 1990s, setting us on a Donald Trump-like search for a shonky Barack Obama birth certificate ever since. As such, the Storm must be persecuted at all costs to maintain the most important thing in rugby league: the inadequacy complex of us embittered Sydney also-rans.
So before the game grows any further, here are some reheated preconceptions that will invalidate the premiership they’re set to unjustly pocket this year.
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1. They cheated the cap!
Melbourne illegally stockpiled talent by shouting everyone a heap of undeclared boats and sheds. Not only this, they returned their tainted premierships, offloaded players, played a season for no points and conducted a clean rebuild, yet they still have the gall to challenge for the premiership half a decade later? Does this club have no shame?
2. They wrestle!
The results are in. Besides everyone else, the Storm are the only team that wrestles. What’s worse, they have never publicly admitted to wrestling. All they’ve given us is a few weak denials from a club spokesperson who was speaking from a headlock.
3. They’re boring!
The Storm play a repetitive and methodical style that grinds the viewer into unconsciousness like skolling a foaming schooner of tranquiliser. Well, that’s how they played last time the Sydney media watched them back in 2009, and this town can’t be expected to think for itself.
4. They’re overly reliant on immortals!
Melbourne were gifted a one-in-a-million trio by the serendipity of astute talent identification and first-class development structures. Appallingly lucky.
Cameron Smith, Billy Slater and Cooper Cronk are forever carrying bums like Jesse Bromwich, Cameron Munster and Suliasi Vunivalu, not to mention a passenger of a coach who does nothing for unidentified talent other than transform them into world beaters.
Not only is having class players an affront, you shouldn’t be allowed to label three old blokes and a heap of roof tilers as a team. It’s more like a TAFE class.
AAP Image/Dan Himbrechts
5. They’re not taken seriously in Melbourne!
Any town that enjoys street murals is not a rugby league town. That’s why the NRL trophy should be fitted with a dye pack that explodes the moment it passes through Albury.
In fact, relocate the Storm to Sydney. If there’s one thing our city can do with, it’s more rugby league teams, especially considering there’s a small demographic of rare possums in Rooty Hill we could lose to supporting the Giants.
6. They’re News Limited-aligned!
As the last remaining Super League club in Victoria, the Storm’s mere existence is a slap in the face to one of the game’s great heartlands.
7. Nobody knows how to correctly say their name!
Are they Storm? Or the Storm? Or, if you’re from Melbourne, are they Storm, the Storm or the Rebels?
Karate-kicking fullbacks and flaunting cap rules is one thing, but lumping rugby league with grammar affairs should be an immediate expulsion.