Cheesy Storm make me sick
* Ben English
* From: The Daily Telegraph
* April 27, 2010 12:00AM
EXCUSE me. Could I just interrupt the celebrations. Just for a moment, could we pipe down with the Storm club song. Would you mind stopping those dressing-shed backslaps ... for a tick.
Excuse me for interrupting the choral symphony of support for Cameron Smith and his jubilant teammates. Excuse me for wondering why everyone is treating the Storm players as the victims in this whole sorry saga. And excuse me for feeling a little sick as we watched Smith, coach Craig Bellamy and a few of the Storm's hulking bookends carry on at Sunday's post-match Q&A as if they'd lost a loved one.
So, this was the proudest moment of Smith's career? Topping all his achievements in Origin, Tests and his now discredited grand-final victories?
Puh-lease.
The Storm beat the Warriors on Monday with a team worth nearly 20 per cent more. Forget Inglis being out injured. The Warriors could see Inglis with Manu Vatuvei and raise him with Simon Mannering, Steve Price and Brett Seymour.
The Storm cheated again on Monday night. They are still playing with a stacked hand. Until they offload a player or three, they will continue to deny teams they play against an even contest. Was I the only one screaming at the TV for one reporter to ask the bleeding obvious of the skipper and his coach: Did you know about the rort? Were you involved? Did you know your club was cheating? Did anybody ever suggest to you the fix was in?
But I should have known better. Those questions were banned. Bellamy and his media adviser warned reporters they would guillotine the conference if anyone had the temerity to ask them about their knowledge of the scandal.
This, from a coach and a team
who have, in a meticulously choreographed public statement, welcomed the forensic examination of their accounts. And who've angrily protested their innocence.
As well they may. For all we know at this stage, the players and their coach may have been utterly ignorant of the greatest scam in Australian sporting history going on under their noses for the past five years.
The players may have had no idea they were the unwitting central figures in this labyrinthine fraud.
Indeed, if they knew nothing about these secret payments - and it's a big if - then they, like us, are also victims. Their season is over. They're playing for nothing but pride.
But given the circumstances, why ship in champagne to shower the players? Away from the cameras, of course. Did they have to celebrate each try, every hard tackle, as if they were playing a grand final? One instance resonates: When a number of Melbourne players forced Jerome Ropati into touch, the Storm rushed over as if they'd won the premiership.
Even teen rookie Matthew Duffie sprinted from the other side of the field to congratulate a bloke for making a tackle.
Then there was the press conference. Who didn't feel queasy seeing Smith and Bellamy looking, in turn, shattered and seething? Don't they comprehend the damage their club has done to the game? While they keep trotting out their $4.8 million super-team, we'll only stand so much victimhood from a club that made victims of all rugby league fans.
