That's Entertainment : Glory, Glory to South Sydney
Music makes up a big part of my life, but another thing that dominates at least six months of my year is my beloved South Sydney Rabbitohs.
And two numbers have defined me, haunted me, made me proud : 1971 and 20.
1971 was the last time Souths made a Grand Final (and won it) and 20 is the amount of Premierships the club has won since 1908 - the most of any NRL team ever.
Now to put this in perspective, I am 38 years old. I have been going for Souths since 1987, actively since 1989. In that period, I have seen the Rabbits make the finals four times - 1989, 2007, 2012 and 2013. But during that time, I've seen the Bunnies pick up the Wooden Spoon four times - 1990, 2003, 2004 and 2006 (and should have had it in 2002 when the Dogs were stripped of all their points). But they came second last twice and third last seven times. So since 1990, we have been rooted to or near the bottom of the pack 14 times in 23 years. Sigh. We even got kicked out for the seasons 2000 and 2001, fighting our way back in to the competition.
So during those years, where we would jag 2-5 wins a season, hearing the team victory song was very few and far between. But when we did, well, it was magical. So many older supporters who remembered the good old days when we won comps on average once in every three seasons, would shake their heads and wonder when things would ever get better. I'd go to games and sometimes walk out. Hell, I'm embarrassed to say I walked out on friends and family because in my heart I knew Souths were better than this. We went from being the Pride of the League to LOL@Souffs. The highlight of the season was winning the pre-season Charity Shield against Saints and being crowned March Premiers, a derisory note at our wild celebrations at the start of the year when we won something but it didn't matter cause there were 24-26 weeks of s#it to come.
Even when Russell Crowe took over and he started to recruit some talent, we'd finish tantalisingly close, in 9th or 10th spot and miss the finals.
This all changed when Russell missed signing arguably the biggest coach of the modern era - Wayne Bennett - and had to go to Plan B, signing Michael 'Madge' Maguire. They put faith in a bloke who had played a dozen or more first grade games, been an assistant coach to Craig Bellamy at the Storm and had gone to England and plied his coaching trade there (and in the process won their comp in his first year). So, it became "In Madge We Trust".
In his first season in 2012, we made the finals and got to the Preliminary Final where our halfback tore his hammy, neutered our chances and saw us fall one game short of a Grand Final. Ok, we all thought, it's been a great first season with Madge.
In his second season in 2013, we should have topped the table, but lost in the last round to the Roosters (our arch enemies) who took top spot instead. We made it to the Preliminary Final but choked against a war-worn Manly-Warringah and again missed the Grand Final. It was particularly gutting for Souths fans, who had LOL@Souffs trolls all over us once more.
But something was different in 2014. We entered the season as hot shot faves to win the entire comp and couldn't have opened better with a smashing of the Roosters. We then went on to lose a close one to Manly - no shame there. This was followed by a loss to the Tigers, and then the Raiders. Before long, questions were being asked. Cohesion was lost, harmony seemed out the window.
But the wins came. The defence was punishing.
Soon clubs records were being broken. The 35 year record of most games for the club was broken twice. Nathan Merritt - a flying winger and club stalwart - scored most tries for the club with his 145th try (he is also 2nd on the 'most games list' now too). More exciting for many was the introduction of group of young and talented up and comers who looked like seasoned pros in their first season of top flight footy. And despite some hiccups the bunnies looked like they were hanging in there. Again facing the Roosters in the last round to take top spot, they lost it and ended the regular season third. But for the first time in my life, the Bunnies had made the finals three seasons in a row.
First up was Manly. We'd put them away a month earlier but this was finals football. Someone forgot to tell Souths. They put their foot on the accelerator and went 40-0 up with 20 mins still on the clock. Sure Manly bounced back to end the game 40-24, but the damage was done. We had the week off, the others could fight on and we awaited our Preliminary Final foe, praying we wouldn't falter again. As fate would have it, it would be the Roosters. Nothing like sibling rivalry. They scorch out to a 12-0 lead 10 minutes in. My father-in-law told us as we were walking in that the bunnies would take half an hour to warm up after their week off and then they would switch on. At the half hour mark, we score; by half time it is 12 all. A freckle after the break ends, we bust them and score. The game is effectively over as Souths run riot and humiliate the Roosters. Even though the Roosters score twice in the last 5 minutes of the match, the boys know they are off to the Grand Final. 32-22 it ends…as does 43 years of waiting to reach the decider.
I started to see signs...
During the finals, I'd been reading John Sattler's autobiography. He was the last captain of Souths during the period 1967-1971 when we made five grand finals straight, winning four. He played 77 minutes with a broken jaw in the days before replacements. He is an inspiration to all Souths fan but a ghost of the past. A lovely man, he and his legendary teammates have haunted us for decades, and even John admits in his own words that it's time for a new Souths winning team so he can grow old peacefully. This book is released pre the finals and strikes a chord with me, who has dreamt a lifetime of dreams of seeing his team in the grand final and hoisting the cup as winners.
The other was George Clooney. He once said hell would freeze before he ever got married. The weekend before the Grand Final, he finally weds.
There were other things, but these two make me smile and laugh.
Our opponents were to be the Bulldogs, arguably one of the toughest teams in the modern age. They scrap, and fight and are called the Dogs of War for good reason. The task will not be easy. Sentiment swings the Bunnies way for many reasons. I feel sorry for true Dogs supporters because they were pushed to the margins as the media focussed on the Rabbits. And suddenly, it is Sunday.
So to the Grand Final.
The first tackle, Sam Burgess is smashed. Rumours start he has broken his cheek. First Tackle!!! Grrr… But he plays on. The defence is tough but Souths' attack has the edge. There is a try but it is disallowed. Phases pass like punches to the guts. Out of nothing really, Souths strike. 6-0. They pepper the line but can't find a hole, the Dogs are that good. At half time, despite being pounded, the Dogs can hold their heads up with the score and know one mistake and they will pounce, which is what they do shortly after half time. It's 6-all. My guts churn, my palms are sweaty. Finally, when hope is dwindling, a hulking forward barges through to score a classic Grand Final try. It's 12-6. But it's still a grind. Eventually a penalty is gifted, a goal missed. The next set, the same but this time, the penalty goal is hit. 14-6, not too long to go. The dogs can get there if they try but Souths' defence is like a stone wall. With seven minutes remaining, our centre crashes in to the corner and scores. The game is effectively over and yet…
A few minutes later, Reynolds jags an opportunistic try. It's allowed. I burst in to uncontrollable sobs with a million other Souths fans. On the field, the two stars, Sam Burgess and Greg Inglis are heaving, choking on sobs of emotion and probably hysterical joy like the rest of us. At that very moment, 43 years of waiting, the ups and downs of a life time, the result could not be denied and Souths would win their 21st Premiership. Near on full time, as these things go once the gates open, GI scores and the goanna slides across the in goal and rapture is upon us fans. Kudos to the Dogs fans who were most gracious in defeat. I'd like to be greedy and see another dynasty of victories, but I won't. I'll take this Premiership and cherish it forever. LOL@Souffs no more!
And even now, a week later, it still doesn't sink in. The glow is still there. To share the day with Lee after all the years of dragging her to games, and to share it with Alex and Zach who are now two rusted on Souths fans themselves, and with my father-in-law who had started coming for a bit of fun and stuck firm to be gifted a premiership and to my wonderful mother-in-law who has been nothing short of warm and positive all the years the team was dreadful, it was a dream come true to sit back and bask in the glory of it all. So many friends, co-workers and random well-wishers over the years must have wondered if I was mad. Again they wished me well one more time, and this time, they can smile too.
Lastly, there are two numbers that have defined me as a boy, as a teen and as a man. 1971 and 20.
As of Sunday night, the past was put to rest. The ghosts can move on, smiling, singing the winner's song, knowing the legacy they created and then upheld has been emulated by a new generation of boys and men. New deeds have been done. The future is bright and I have two new numbers: 2014 and 21.
On Sunday night, the club song never rang out as loud or as strong as it did at Homebush.
Glory, Glory to South Sydney https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE-oaUE6MfI
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