KICK-OFF: Manly furore exposes question the game can't dodge

Truth is you miss a lot. I notably didn't see Ben Hunt spill the kickoff to start golden point in the 2015 grand final. I was lost in the 700 words I was supposed to have filed five minutes before. Likewise, when James Tedesco crossed for the match-winner in Origin III in 2019 I was in a stadium stairwell trying to find better Wifi.

Obviously there's plenty of great things I've seen in the flesh, live and raw as it happens, but I can't recall any moment more vividly than Macklemore's performance prior to the 2017 grand final. As the set progressed toward the inevitable rendition of Same Love, a media colleague and I shared a nervous conversation. What reception would it get?

When you love the game as much as we do, you only ever want to see it be the best version of itself. If you'd spent any time wading into the social media sewer in the lead-up, the fear of a mass hostile reception was not without foundation.

If you recall, Macklemore's arrival saw plenty of controversy. The likes of the former Prime Minister Tony Abbott led the tired 'leave politics out of sport brigade' - endless photo ops of him in a Sea Eagles jersey not withstanding.

The outrage at the thought an international recording artist might just perform his biggest international hit seemed absurd. Still, it was hard to know what to expect.

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What we saw warmed this cynical columnist's cockles like no other moment at a live sporting event. Lights, thousands of them, dotted the 83,000-strong crowd, a powerful endorsement of the message. I've never been prouder to be a rugby league person.

It was heart-warming to see that the vocal, self-appointed custodians of the game and its assumed values don't speak for all rugby league people, people who voted with their iPhone lights. Most them voted with their pencils the same year to comfortably endorse same-sex marriage; or as it's now referred to - marriage.

It overcame the attempts of Abbott and his ilk to divert the narrative away from the actual issue at hand. It's the oldest trick in the book for those looking to halt the tide of progress and maintain a status quo. Opponents of a 'yes' vote attempted to make a needless plebiscite about anything but the actual question.

It was about the supposed rights of children, slippery slopes, the foundation of our democracy and other diversions too foul to give credence to five years on. In the instance of the 2017 grand final entertainment, it was the supposed apolitical sanctity of the sporting arena.

The discourse surrounding Manly's rainbow jumper has run along the same lines, skewing off in all manner of different directions in an effort to dodge an unavoidable truth, or worse, provide an answer to the central question.

You have to admire the sincerity with which Des Hasler spoke in addressing the saga on Tuesday. If anything, the apologies actually went too far. The Sea Eagles should be commended for following through on what was the noblest of intentions.

The club could easily have said as a result of communication mistakes that the wearing of the jersey will be postponed until later in the season (perhaps until their finals fate is known) or into next year, but it hasn't.

There'll no doubt be those who look to martyr them in the same way, but there is an important distinction to be made between the position seven Manly players have taken and that of Israel Folau. Folau deserved everything he got in a situation utterly of his own making.

The Manly players had made no such public expression of their view. They still haven't, but it remains their view, one they have acted on. The only exclusion they are experiencing is self-exclusion, as is their right.

This column is yet to hear a truly compelling answer as to why those players couldn't simply wear the standard jersey alongside their teammates in rainbow, but a furore would still have ensued. For all the talk of communication, consultation, collaboration, you have to ask the same fundamental question - would the players concerned change their view or act differently?

On a day's notice or a year's notice, Kick-off would be willing to wager (with Pointsbet of course) that they would maintain precisely the same position. As such, the central dilemma remains the same.

Manly could either go ahead with the initiative of promoting inclusion, acknowledgement and acceptance of LGBTQIA+ people, or bow to a number of players who are of the firm belief this community is not worthy of being recognised in that way.

The mere public acknowledgement of a historically ostracised and marginalised community, for one week of the year, with what's only a slight tweak to the colours they wear every week, is so unpalatable they'd rather not play at all.

Whatever the basis, religious or otherwise, that is their view. It's inescapable and, in the modern age, it's a difficult position to defend on any logical basis. It's why, in defence of the status quo, people are so desperate to shift the focus elsewhere.

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Keep politics out of footy they say. Never mind the fact the NRL's continuation through two years of COVID lock downs - that had the working class people the game claims to represent on their knees - was entirely down to politics. Nothing else.

Some are even bemoaning the fact it's supposedly "hijacked" Women in League round, apparently missing the fact that women make up a not inconsiderable part of the LGBTQIA+ community - including some of our highest profile NRLW stars.

The supposed lack of consultation, the club's precarious finals position, the club's governance, are all relevant to the discourse, but they are supplementary factors. The central viewpoint of the boycotting players, and the question of whether it aligns with the values of a modern NRL, is where all roads lead.

It can expect to be pulled in a myriad of different directions, but its the question the game will ultimately have to answer.