Is it just me, or does it seem like the sport of rugby league is perpetually stuck in ‘grumpy mode’?

It doesn’t seem to matter how successful the code is going, or how entertaining the game is being played, some people still feel the need to whinge about something. Or someone. Anything.

Yesterday, perennial bagger of all things rugby league, Phil ‘Buzz’ Rothfield, had a piece published about 2015’s biggest coaching brain snaps. On face value, it would seem an incredibly negative opinion, but it was actually one of the most positive things Buzz has written all season.

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Last Friday, Paul Kent, one of rugby league’s premier – and grumpiest – writers, penned an article labelled ’15 things the NRL must fix’. The article was written in a tone that suggested the game is on death’s door, and just months away from collapsing and disappearing from our lives forever.

Except it came during the same week when the NRL announced a new broadcast deal with Channel Nine, further filling up the sport’s coffers, and securing itself an even brighter future.

I don’t mean to pick on News Limited journalists either, because when it comes to rugby league, there are plenty of examples from other media outlets and personalities that are just as whingy and whiney as anything from a Rupert Murdoch-run organisation. I mean, no one is rugby league more than Gus Gould, yet he absolutely loves ripping the game apart every chance he gets.

In truth, I myself have written many articles that could be perceived as negative or grumpy whinges. Technically, this piece is yet another one, right?

The reality is, when it comes to rugby league, it’s very easy to do.

But why? Why do we all feel the need to constantly snipe away at a game we’re supposed to love?



One theory is that the game is built on feuds, grudges and ill feeling, and like a habitual liar who can’t stop telling fibs after he starts, once rugby league folk begin ranting, maybe they can’t stop. Muscle memory takes over, and there becomes a need to hate on something at all times.

You need look no further than the jewel in rugby league’s crown to find evidence of how quickly things can spiral out of control, once the raging commences.

State of Origin has become as much about the whinging between New South Wales and Queensland, as it has the actual footy played between the Blues and the Maroons.

The whinging is fuelled by the media, who whip the respective states into a frenzy by producing biased and parochial agendas that incite the masses on both sides of the state border.

While I have no issue with the harmless banter that goes on during the Origin period each year, I grow increasingly frustrated with those fans who fail to see that they’re being brainwashed into thinking one state/team is, for example, ‘grubbier’ than the other. It’s especially frustrating when I’m one of said fans.

Origin sees everyone – coaches, players, media and fans – get all worked up and intensely petulant with each other, and the game itself.

Yet the whinging doesn’t finish when Origin does, as not a day seems to go by without someone having a major gripe with the NRL.

Chicken-wing tackles. Referee blunders. Shoulder charges. The Nines tournament. Contested scrums. Blocking runners. High definition. Crowd numbers. Night-time grand finals. Suburban grounds. The TV broadcast deal.



The third man in. ANZ Stadium. Channel Nine commentary. Salary cap concessions. Crowd behaviour. Punches. Delayed coverage. Penalty loadings. Player burnout. Souths favouritism. Send-offs. Niggle.

Head high tackles. The salary cap. Play-the-balls. Daly Cherry-Evans’ contract saga. Head pats. Concussion laws. Expansion locations. The representative calendar. Interchange rules. Grubs. Video referees. Media coverage.

Needless to say, I could go on.

Isn’t anyone in rugby league ever happy?

Yet perhaps there is a strange – somewhat ironic – reason for all the negativity: that we all love the game too much.

Is it possible that all the whinging actually comes from a place of intense passion? That we love our team, our players, our state, our entire game, so much, that it clouds our judgement and makes us a little crazy?

Is it a case of simply being heavily emotionally invested?

Maybe, just maybe, the whinging comes from a place of love, not hate.



That’s what I’ll keep telling myself, anyway.