Why the NRL club is struggling to find a home and a sense of purpose
Opinion
Sweet Caroline is a fan favourite at sporting events around the globe.
The Neil Diamond classic from 1969 is universally known, upbeat, and easy for the crowd to sing along to. For many fans, it’s a great way to get the party started.
The Wests Tigers, though, align more with one of Diamond’s lesser-known and more introspective songs, the broody 1970 hit I Am, I Said.
What’s that song about? Well, it’s about Diamond himself. Brooklyn born-and-raised, he loved New York City with a passion. But, to grow his musical career, he moved to the showbiz capital of the world – Los Angeles – “palm trees grow, and rents are low … and the feeling is lay back”.
That sounds ideal, but he goes on to explain: “I’m New York City born and raised and nowadays, I’m lost between two shores … LA’s fine, but it ain’t home, New York’s home, but it ain’t mine no more”.
Within those words lies the same existential crisis that engulfs the Wests Tigers.
They are a club with so many homes it doesn’t know which way is up, or which master to serve.
Take a drive down Parramatta Road beyond Five Dock and have a look at Concord Oval on the right-hand side outbound.
Once a decaying old rugby union facility is now a rugby league Taj Mahal. The lavishly named Zurich Centre is the predominantly taxpayer-funded centre of excellence for the Wests Tigers.
It has it all – a high-performance gym, which unfortunately has produced only average performances, a hot-and-cold plunge room which at least mirrors the team’s patchy form, a theatre where the mounting losses can be reviewed over and even a “sleep room” which is handy for coaches who routinely need a Bex and a good lie down.
There’s an education and wellness hub, which is basically a glorified family home “media room” where tired parents send kids to overdose on video games. There are even some plush strapping chairs because who wants to sit in an average chair when the ankles are taped.
Then we have the pool, sauna and steam room. You get the picture.
While Concord is their training base, it’s not their home, as such.
Neither is Leichhardt Oval, where anywhere between two and six home games have been played each year for decades. It’s the spiritual home of the Balmain half of the joint venture. And, of course, they’ll be away from there while that venue is upgraded during the 2027 season.
About 50km and two million or so residents away is Campbelltown Sports Stadium, the home of Wests’ half. While it’s the home, it’s not the spiritual home of Wests.
That lies 40km away back towards town at the old Lidcombe Oval, where Tommy Raudonikis and teammates slapped each other in the sheds, and Roy Masters sent his band of “fibros,” including John “Dallas” Donnelly, into battle breathing fire.
They also play home games at CommBank Stadium, better known as the home of the Eels.
The Tigers play there to service the corporates, apparently. But during home games you could fire a cannon through those areas and not hit anyone. That isn’t the case at Eels home games.
Financially, the Holman Barnes Group controls the club’s purse strings. It runs the mega-rich, poker machine and electronic roulette-laden Wests Ashfield Club, as well as Croydon Sports Club and Markets Club at Homebush.
Balmain Leagues Club in Rozelle has been closed since 2010, meaning the Balmain side has been at the financial mercy of the Wests side for far too long.
If you take out the St George Illawarra Dragons, which faced similar geographical and philosophical challenges post-merger, all other Sydney clubs have clearly defined areas, giving them a clear sense of belonging and purpose.
The Roosters in the east, Souths adjacent to them along the coast and southern city areas, the Sharks in the Shire, the Bulldogs in Canterbury-Bankstown, Manly on the northern beaches and Parramatta and Penrith in their locales.
It could be argued that in the professional sporting era, teams should be able to function anywhere, but it’s not that simple.
This game is tribal, and history shows split tribes don’t fare well.
Wests Tigers coach Benji Marshall did what Benji normally does on Tuesday when he blamed the media for spreading rumours about a fall-out between himself and Jarome Luai in the aftermath of the news they asked him to leave at season’s end.
Luai, signed to provide the heartbeat that would drag them up from well below mediocrity, will soon be gone just two years into a five-year deal. Yet, somehow the media were the bad guys.
Marshall would be better served to look inside the many walls of the lavish Zurich Centre instead.
News broke last Thursday the club would pay up to $500,000 of ex-saviour Luai’s salary in 2027 to have him play anywhere else, and no-one at the club addressed their own fans until Marshall spoke.
From that news until Marshall’s media conference on Tuesday was five days. That’s four and a half days too long. What did he and the club expect? Everyone to just say “oh well, they’re getting rid of the guy who was going to save us. So what?”
It doesn’t work like that. Then, when Luai’s dad liked a post from Triple M suggesting there was a fallout between his son and Marshall, was everybody supposed to ignore it?
The mismanagement of their captain and star player’s exit summed up the club and speaks of management dysfunction.
New full-time CEO Shaun “I’ve never failed” Mielekamp would probably want to revisit how this was handled for future reference, unless he wants his self-proclaimed success rate as a CEO to go the way of everything else at the club. That direction is south, and fast.
They haven’t made the finals since 2011 and will miss them again this season after a promising start. Even the Titans made it to September in 2021.
If Benji wants to make a proper go of coaching after 21 wins and 38 losses so far, the club needs to work out exactly who they are and who they represent.
It has to stop being a transit lounge and find a way to instil a sense of purpose and belonging. That’s not an easy task when you are the nomads of the competition.
With governments of all levels funding redevelopments at Leichhardt and Campbelltown, they will roam the west forever.
At least taxpayers have been able to share in the misery. It’s their money which built every venue the club inhabits, despite how many people arrive on buses to play the pokies at Wests Ashfield.
Neil Breen is the national sports editor and a Walkley Award-winning journalist.Connect via X.
