If Queensland was a country, there would be no greater trumpet of patriots than Billy Moore. On election eve, high on the western concourse of Suncorp Stadium’s level five, without a view of the Sharks’s 28-18 victory in the Magic Round opener below, the true voice of the people held court.
In a fading but authentic 1990s Bears jersey, Moore was surrounded by seven men in their 50s. They had just asked for a photo, but the former North Sydney lock forward was in good spirits, so he regaled them about that time he screamed “Queenslander” while running out for a State of Origin match in 1995. “Best four seconds of my fucking life,” he told the men, to raucous laughter suggesting the moment was the best four seconds of theirs.
Now in its sixth year, Magic Round has become famous for the interactions between rugby league fans and their idols. Toddy Carney and Trent Barrett were doing meet-and-greets for corporate guests 50m around the corner from Moore. On the other side of the ground, at around the same time, Tigers great and Australian Rugby League Commission member, Wayne Pearce, listened politely as a man in a vintage Parramatta jersey explained his vision of the game.
The event has all the ingredients of a rugby league dream. Not the long-term aspiration-style of dream, mind you. Magic Round is falling asleep on the couch with Tina Turner on repeat and a Winfield Red tucked behind the ear. The three and now four days of rugby league at Suncorp Stadium is very much a billowing fantasy for those who swear allegiance to the Steeden.
It is also one that draws half the nation’s attention. So Peter Dutton’s decision to politicise welcome to country ceremonies in the final week of the election campaign, an act dubbed “pure culture-war stuff” by Malcolm Turnbull, threatened to pop the magic bubble.
To the NRL’s credit, the organisation stuck with their plans to hold two welcomes this week. To the credit of fans, neither was a source of angst or frustration. Instead, First Nations Australians were met on Friday not with boos but cheers. Nicho Hynes, a proud Indigenous man and mental health advocate sent KL Iro over with a masterful short pass to put Cronulla on the scoreboard. The Eels struck back not long later through Josh Addo-Carr, the Indigenous All Stars winger.
Wander around Magic Round, and it’s clear few want to undermine the harmony that fuels the event. The stands are a rainbow of jerseys from generations of league. Fans relish sharing the memories of others’ designs. Of Brett Mullins in Canberra Milk. Craig Gower with Panther black streaked with blue. Or Luke Ricketson in tricolours adorned with Samsung, then an unheralded upstart. Now, just unheralded.
One supporter with a Power’s-sponsored Broncos jersey, in casual discussion about the momentum for Magic Round (his girlfriend works in travel and says it is without doubt Brisbane’s biggest weekend for hotel occupancy) outed his mate in a Bulldogs flannie as a Trumpet of Patriots voter. The Canterbury man, on the subject of welcomes to country, said they were uncontroversial given the contribution of Indigenous rugby league players and the First Nations traditions of clubs like Souths. “The AFL doesn’t have a club synonymous with Indigenous excellence,” he said.
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Of course, rugby league is not without division and contradiction. “Weak, woke, sending us broke,” says the attack ad targeting prime minister Anthony Albanese on the Kayo Sports coverage, paid for by conservative group Advance Australia. On the chest of Parramatta Eels coach Jason Ryles is the logo of James Hardie, the company whose name for many remains synonymous with grief. The avalanche of sports betting promotion promises glory, kudos and riches to young men, and yet the “chances are you’re about to lose” message at the end of each ad jars less than the knowledge the Labor government has largely failed to act on the recommendations of the late MP Peta Murphy.
But on Friday night the near 50,000 fans inside Suncorp Stadium – like much of Australia, weary after a long campaign – had little thought for the Senate ballot paper. Above the line, the enduring memory was instead left by Cronulla’s Ronaldo Mulitalo, who leapt for the ball and came down contorting his body like he was a politician with a work from home policy, fumbling at the last minute.
Then, late in the second match ultimately won by the Roosters 36-26, the Dolphins were eyeing a comeback. Ray Stone was almost over the line and appeared certain to score. But when a leaping Billy Smith used his outstretched fingertips to dislodge the ball, it was a reminder nothing is a sure-thing.