League thrives on pantomime villains

By Roy Masters
March 22, 2005

The John Hopoate and Michael Crocker incidents aren't bad for rugby league. The code burns brightest when the fireflies of controversy dance around it.

Drama is the code's oxygen and inertia its enemy. NRL research actually confirms this. Chief executive David Gallop told a meeting of club chief executives in November that research revealed fans actually enjoy what he calls the "soap opera" of the game.

OK, there's "good" soap and "bad" soap and Hopoate certainly did Cronulla forward Keith Galloway harm when he hit him high at Brookvale Oval on Sunday, causing him to be hospitalised with severe concussion.

And Crocker's arrest after being involved in a brawl outside the Beach Palace Hotel at Coogee at 3am the same day cost him 5 per cent of his income and damaged the Roosters' campaign to rid the club of its party-boy image.

But the actions of both players will not cause one fewer fan to come through the gate, or television ratings to fall. True, they will harm the game in the corporate board rooms where the decisions on sponsorship are made, but rugby league has never done well out of the top end of town. Most of the city's marketing types went to private schools and their preference has always been for rugby union and Australian football.

The Hopoate and Crocker incidents will give them an opportunity to joke derisively about rugby league's goon image and caveman intelligence.

Rugby league would have to undergo a generational make-over if it was ever to attract dollars from squeaky-clean insurance companies and banks.

However, although ARU and AFL chiefs will never admit it, they envy the column inches and TV time given over to rugby league's ongoing soapie.

When was the last time Super 12 football dominated pub conversation? Last week, with Waratahs second-rower Justin Harrison's racist sledge! On Friday, it was still the No.1 topic at an eastern suburbs pub where I found myself debating with Gallop and two leading player managers the three words Harrison used and which was the worst.

Harrison was still there on the back page of yesterday's Telegraph, using soap to wash his mouth out. Maybe this says more about the media than it does about the codes but it will take another rugby union atrocity to push Hoppa's apology off today's back page.

Nor will the Hopoate incident damage the Sea Eagles, who are mightily intent on reinforcing Fortress Manly. They are talking about a three- to four-match ban when everyone knows Hopoate will receive the same punishment as Melbourne's Danny Williams.

Even if Manly end Hopoate's career, they will still blame the NRL, Cronulla, the media, even the Warriors ball boy, all to reinforce their siege mentality. OK, so the Sea Eagles will lose a winger who occasionally doubles as a forward, but they'll also cop fewer penalties.

Hopoate's high, ludicrously late tackle may cause a few parents to prevent their children playing the game but at least it proves the code doesn't censor its unsavoury incidents. The AFL does not allow vision of reportable offences until after the judiciary has responded but most of the heat has gone from the debate by then.

Hopoate has been the code's Oil Can Harry for some time. He's the man in the black hat, cape and moustache who invites everyone to throw fruit at him.

But it's better to have a visible target than the subterranean ones that really damage the game. Anything that undermines the integrity of the game is worse than a high tackle, providing it does not end a player's career.

Innuendo of cheating referees, whispers of salary-cap rorting and rumours of sexual assault attack the game's heart.

Hopoate's entry into the "anals" of sporting history for inserting his finger into the backside of opposition players created a spate of jokes. But festering stories that his club endorsed and encouraged his behaviour before leaving him to hang is evil soap opera.

Hopoate and Crocker have apologised for their actions. Some will see this is an act of redemption but it's really designed to bring the soap opera to an end.

John Wayne in the movie She Wore A Yellow Ribbon said, "Never apologise, Mister. It's a sign of weakness".

But John Wayne, remember, was just acting. And his real name was Marion.


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