This piece has been surprisingly difficult for me to write. It shouldn’t be. Thinking about the Penrith Panthers takes up a significant percentage of my brain capacity at all times, much to the detriment of my personal life, the reputation of the Guardian, and the productivity of colleagues who make the mistake of showing even a casual interest in league.
I think the problem was that initially I was writing about rugby league. In my first approach I was talking about our hardworking, underappreciated forward pack. A young core whose greatness has become routine to the point of facing undue contempt. A father/son coach and halfback pairing who are 80 minutes away from casting the bronze on their statues at the entrance to the revamped Panther Park. That is all true but it does not tell the story of the Penrith Panthers.
