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As I boarded the train out to ANZ Stadium yesterday to watch the mighty Dragons take on the Roosters, it was with an air of optimism. Finally the NRL had been granted its wish with an all Sydney grand final.
The city was buzzing in anticipation of the match up. It was reasonable to expect the NRL would come to the party with a celebration befitting for the pinnacle NRL match of the year.
Boy was I wrong.
We reached the stadium prior to the National Youth League competition full-time siren, bracing ourselves for the emotional journey ahead and in readiness for the pre-match build up.
A quick trip to the bar and the boys and I were buckled in for the afternoon ahead. The NYC presentation came and went and the lips were wet in anticipation.
15 minutes passed, nothing yet on the field. 30 minutes later, still nothing. I had to ask my mate next to me: “This is the NRL grand final isn’t it? The biggest game of the year?”
45 minutes later and after 1000 ads on the big screen, we finally see some on field action: a relay race between the juniors of four NRL teams. Why only four and why were they racing? They simply entered the arena, stood around for 20 minutes, raced and then left the field. Brilliant.
It could only get better from here. Or so we thought. Next was half a lap in the back of a ute for some retired players. A nice sentiment but again very poorly executed. Surely a full lap of the field for each player would have sufficed.
Next up, it was firecracker time. Yes, firecracker time in broad daylight, that produced a lot of smoke and not much else. In addition were eight “entertainers” who came on to the field with backpacks loaded with firecrackers. Only three from eight went off with the remaining five looking on solemnly with a backpack of crackers yet to fire.
It was at this stage that I turned to the people behind me to ask their thoughts. Yes we all shared a laugh and agreed, just bring on the footy and end this nightmare.
But no, we were wrong again.
Ladies and Gentlemen, nothing gets a crowd pumped more for grand final day than a miming performance from a D-grade pop idol contender (Jessica Mauboy), along with a big screen cameo from Snoop Dog.
Next up was You Am I and Dan Sultan. Their rendition of the Rolling Stones hit ‘Brown Sugar’ was quite good and one couldn’t help but think the ‘Brown’ was befitting of the match day entertainment so far.
Thankfully, the players entered the arena and once again the great product that is rugby league saved the day for the NRL. In a match that was even until the 55 minute mark, the crowd came to life and carried the day for the powers that be.
With five minutes to play, we were in full song with the Dragons Army as we counted down the seconds until we could lift the roof off the stadium with the song we waited 31 years to sing and savour with a premiership victory, “When the saints go marching in”. The countdown began, 10 to 1. “Oh when the…… “. Hang on. What’s that we hear over the PA? We couldn’t believe it.
Instead of capturing the hearts and minds of the Dragons fans (80 per cent of the stadium) by playing our team song that we have waited 31 years to sing, the NRL instead decided to broadcast some rock song with absolutely zero relevance, followed by a U2 song.
Flabbergasted doesn’t do our feelings justice. Whilst nothing could ruin the sweet taste of victory, this was a massive oversight from an administration that seems to be past its use by date. I very rarely agree with Gus Gould but I’m beginning to think he is correct in his repeated attacks on the NRL administration.
Us fans can only hope the Independent Commission gets in soon and brings with it a very large broom.
I’m off to Kogarah to sing until we can sing no more: “Oh When The Saints Go Marching In…”
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