With my beloved Rabbitohs falling in the preliminary final, I wasn’t sure I could attend this year’s grand final. It was perhaps too painful for me to make the trip all the way south to the big game.
Indeed, three other Bunnies’ supporters in my original group decided not to make the Sydney trip.
With three spare tickets in hand and three willing young Victorian expats based in Sydney, desperate to see their new adopted team in the decider, I decided to make the trip.
The following is my account of the 2012 NRL grand final festivities. However I will not dwell on the game itself as you have already watched, read, and dissected the match. This is about the surrounding events and atmosphere of the big build up and build down.
Departing Brisbane airport was not too eventful and I arrived in Sydney staying at a hotel a drop kick away from Redfern. This was in anticipation of a red and green party of epic proportions. Not surprisingly, Redfern was fairly quiet as fans had followed their passion to the west.
With the NRL toying with a new format for fans on the big day, I decided to head to Homebush just before 12. The trains from Central to Homebush via Lidcombe were surprisingly busy with fans, even early in the day. It was also a chance to determine the numbers of Storm fans travelling to Sydney for the big finale.
In this respect, the amount of purple among the blue and white was pleasantly well represented.
Arriving at Homebush, one could hear the loud music blaring as a specially fenced off area beneath the shadows of the Novotel Hotel caught the immediate attention for those disembarking from the train station.
A DJ could be heard revving up fans as the lines got larger for those wanting to enjoy an ale or three before entering the arena of destiny.
For me, alcohol is never a big factor when enjoying a sporting event and I duly declined the temptation to vanquish my thirst on a mildly warm day. While waiting for my football companions, I decided to sit, and stand at times, along the grand avenue leading from the train station to the stadium.
This provided me with the kaleidoscope of images for what is rugby league in 2012. Firstly, it was great to see hundreds of people in the bluebag jerseys, tees and caps of the Newtown Jets who appeared in (and won) the NSW Cup grand final earlier in the afternoon.
It was also apparent tons of South Sydney fans had purchased grand final tickets and to their credit still attended this great event wearing their colours with pride. Perhaps many thought they were just warming up for their chance next year.
It was also great to see league supporters of all the other NRL clubs being represented. There were supporter groups from NZ, Papua New Guinea fans wearing ‘Support Papua New Guinea NRL bid’ caps and polos. There were Pirate clad sand gropers from WA, numerous English supporters from ESL clubs like Leeds Rhinos, St Helens, Huddersfield, and a large and colourful group from France.
I even saw a few Sydney Swans fans and numerous English Premier League shirts. From my viewpoint, I witnessed thousands of supporters coming out of the train station like surplus plankton gushing out of a whale’s mouth.
But, all in all, it was evident Bulldogs supporters would provide the vast majority of fans at the stadium.
On Bulldog supporters, I couldn’t believe the cultural mix of their fan-base. I met and spoke with Syrian, Lebanese, Egyptian, Libyan, and Indonesian-Aussies.
I listened and learnt about the difference between the tabla and djembe drums: the instrument of choice of these NRL supporters, as they whipped up the passions of young and old Bulldog fans alike and other appreciative supporters.
It was also a sight to witness hundreds of young hijab-clad girls, sisters, mothers and friends, mostly linking arms, smiling their way to the stadium.
They also had a large number of Asian-Australian supporters. The older generation of Bulldog fans also came out with sons, daughters and grandchildren. All in all these elements make this club one of the most unique sporting entities in Australia.
Just when I thought the blue and white army had its own way, I was surprised by the growing number of Melbourne Storm supporters. Most appear to have come from Melbourne and it was great to know that most of these fans were born and bred Victorians, or at least the ones I spoke with, who regaled stories of conversions not seen since the days of John the Baptist.
The Storm is clearly showing the league world that their appearance on the big stage not only provides Sydney the chance to see a champion team, but delivers the host city with an economic tourism boom contributing greatly to sold-out air travel and hotel accommodation on that weekend.
I wasn’t sure if it was the Bulldogs or just typical Sydney league fare but there was an array of Middle Eastern cuisine on offer from the numerous food tents. I succumbed to Gozleme, made of lavish bread dough folded around a variety of fillings such as spinach, cheese and parsley.
I savoured this while speaking with a lovely elderly couple in Parramatta gear who had been to the last 39 grand finals and follow their team Australia-wide.
Finally, time had come to enter the inner sanctum of this great NRL party where your game ticket was required to pass. A huge replica of the NRL trophy greeted me as I surveyed people grabbing their photo with it, reminiscent of fan adulation for King Wally’s statue at Suncorp Stadium in Brisbane.
There were the usual merchandise stands and what seemed to me like a mini Ekka (Brisbane Exhibition Show) with rides, and ice-cream and hotdog vans. Fans were even lining up outside the four Triple M radio stage to get their photo with Nathan Hindmarsh and Ryan Girdler.
Finally taking my seat I inhaled the atmosphere: the passion of the fans, the tribute to retiring players, pre-match music, the game’s immortals, and then the national anthem.
If you watched the telecast it is pretty self-explanatory what happened. It is open to personal opinion, so I won’t go on about it other than to say I enjoyed the match immensely.
The scoreline didn’t reflect how good the Storm had played, and how close the Bulldogs were to making a comeback, doing well to curtail the Storm front.
What I can share with clarity and judgment is that entertainment should be kept simple. I and everyone else (it seemed) loved the kiss cam with its crescendo of two men, with cameras focused on them, throwing their arms in the air and gesturing “what the heck”, giving each other a big hug and kiss.
That’s gold. Atmosphere shouldn’t be coerced as the fans provide it in bundles. What joy to see a young father hold his weeks-old baby, decked in blue and white, into the direction of the field as if to offer another child to the Bulldogs gods.
It was a big day and as Storm fans crowded their trophy –laden heroes along the ANZ Stadium fence line, I made my way back to the hotel for a well-earned sleep. The next day at the Sydney domestic airport it was a pleasure to see tons of Storm fans making their way home, front page news on the Sydney papers, and great coverage in their Melbourne equivalents.
Interstate Bulldog supporters wore their colours with pride knowing they had come up against a very special team and made an effort.
Overall, the NRL grand final was truly a festival of what this great game is about. It was a festival of colour, comedians, cultures, elite athletes, fun, heritage, passion, respect, stories, traditions, and even human imperfection.
I shall return again.
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