Eagles beware, a powerful Storm is brewing

It’s back! The NRL Grand Final BBQ makes a triumphant return this year due to the new family friendly kick-off time that the fans have been calling for.

With all the talk of pre-match sausage sizzles and games of touch football, I’m surprised I haven’t read about a run on sausages this week, a hording of tomato sauce, and supermarkets putting on extra security to prevent violence breaking out over the last remaining packets of fire starters.

But the real test comes with the topic of conversation when men gather around the sacred turning of the sausages and steak.

Forget all this naff talk about watercooler moments in the work place, the time for real discussion of worth comes when men attempt to fight off the effect of frying onions and knowing how to keep hold of their drink.

This needs to happen while simultaneously turning a sausage, holding an expectant bread roll and re-creating a golden Grand Final moment – whether it be Ted Goodwin’s famous chip and chase, Steve Gearin’s miraculous take, Steve Jackson’s bulldozer run, or Benji Marshall’s flick pass.

I have one wish for the Grand Final, one that would make it truly memorable.

Every time a boozed up fan or over-excited ball boy fires an extra ball on the field, there is always a slight moment of panic from the referee as he immediately calls a halt to play while the offending ball is removed, often with a comical kick or pass from a touch judge.

I’ve never seen a player pay this second ball the slightest bit of attention. So I’m praying that an opposing winger might suddenly pick up the ball and race away and plant the ball under the post before launching into a long debate about why that ball has just as much merit as the one already in play.

Think of the controversy! Wouldn’t it get the nation, hell, the world, talking rugby league!

Of course, this year the most over-used cliché is “two best teams.” Any invading colony of aliens will go undetected in rugby league circles this week as long as they master that phrase.

Though, if said aliens actually come up with that line themselves, they are doing pretty well. The Sea Eagles and Melbourne have been the stand out sides all season long.

Cronulla were harshly dispatched like the pretenders they were, while the Warriors dream was dealt with in the way most dreams are when they finally meet reality.

The defence of both sides means that there are no free lunches. But I just feel that Melbourne might really miss Cameron Smith.

Russell Aitken might be a lovely bloke, but he has never really impressed me as a hooker, and he never got anything going against the Sharks.

Of course, Ballin and L’Estrange hardly run amuck (from the ruck!) But the difference is that Manly have had all season long to adapt their game.

Like it or not, hookers touch the ball more than anyone else in the game, and that could prove decisive.

In Smith, the Storm have also lost their goal kicker, and few pundits have given this match by more than a margin that could be decided by an accurate boot, so it’s no place for an amateur. Not that Steve Turner is a complete novice.

What is perhaps most interesting about Grand Final previews, whether it be in respected journals, broadsheets or over a smouldering BBQ, is that for all its science, calves blood and beep tests, the primal instinct of revenge still seems the most powerful motivator.

The theory goes that because Melbourne pretty much humiliated Manly last time around, this time around Manly should be favourites.

It is a little bit perverse really if you think about it.

But given the column inches this game is expected to fill, you have to forgive journalists pushing an angle.

Write off Melbourne at your peril.

There were plenty of doomsday predictions prior to their semi-final against Cronulla, and the only thing quieter than them after the 28-0 lesson was the bus back to the Shire.

Whatever happens, we know there will be one set of fans with a whole new set of moments to recreate at BBQ’s in the future.

And another group blaming the onions for their tears.