'Wouldn't have been achieved at an 80,000-capacity stadium': The value of suburban grounds

As tensions reach boiling point between Australian Rugby League Commission chairman Peter V’landys and the NSW Government over a decision to withhold funding allocated to upgrading suburban grounds, the debate once again comes to the fore as to the value that these grounds add to the rugby league landscape and their merit into the future.

Tribalism is a notion central to the working class roots of rugby league and is an ideal that V’landys deems paramount to the success of the game moving forward.

“Having families in Sydney attend suburban grounds is imperative to the future popularity of the game. That’s what tribalism is about, suburban grounds have an important role to play and should be upgraded for today’s entertainment venue standards,” he said.

As a 1980s baby growing up in the steel city of Wollongong (coincidently Peter’s home town), I believe I can attest to the feeling of community, togetherness and tribalism that V’landys speaks so fondly of.

(Photo by Mark Evans/Getty Images)

When the Steelers entered the NSWRL in 1982, my father, a local league first grade coach and later league administrator, was elated. The son of Greek migrants, and long-time St George supporter, now had a local team to support in the big-time Sydney competition.

By the time I came along in 1985 I was destined to cheer for the scarlet and whites. As soon as I was big enough to manhandle a fold-up steel chair and cart it from my old man’s secret parking spot at the Greek Orthodox Church to the top of the general admission hill at Wollongong Showground, every second Sunday involved watching the mighty Steelers run around in three games of footy.

The images of some of the great movers such as Paul McGregor and Rod Wishart, creative geniuses like John Simon, and tenacious deeds of Bob Lindner and Brad Mackay will always stick in my memory.

Although we were at the back of the hill, and I only reached dad’s waist in height, the proximity of the playing surface to the boundary fence made the illusion I was that close I could touch my heroes. When you add the majestic backdrop of Wollongong City Beach, there was plenty to smile about.

It wasn’t until the early ’90s I caught on to the reason why my old man and his mates were so eager to secure the strategic position a couple metres within the family area of the hill, where alcohol was not permitted: it was only two medium strides to the section where a couple of frothy bevies could be legally consumed, all whilst keeping mum at ease in the belief that a family-friendly father/son day out was being achieved.

Not that I minded, though, as an empty beer can doubled as the perfect rugby league ball, that was utilised in the regular impromptu battles down the back side of the hill against other kids whose dads had the same idea.

Many a big hit was perfected up against the cyclone mesh fence, and quad muscles developed via a sprint down the 45-degree-angled sideline that the hill produced.

As my mind wanders back to reality and away from a cherished memory lane, I ponder if this the family experience and tribalism that Peter V’landys envisages as the future of rugby league.

One certainty is that this personal childhood experience would not have been achieved at an 80,000-capacity super stadium.

This life-long fan of the rugby league owes a lot to his old man for taking him to the footy at Wollongong Showground over 30 years ago, teaching him what tribalism is all about and what the greatest game of all has to offer.