48 hours: Aussie rules in day of high emotion

Australia ruled and in more ways than one over the weekend.

The sports pages of our Sunday newspapers told the story, with the Wests Tigers' victory over St George-Illawarra in the NRL playoff proving the play of the day.

Powered by a fleet of little New Zealand motors, Wests Tigers are a league dream, a fairytale which has removed the last stains of the cynicism and money-grubbing of the mid-1990s Super League war.

A combination of ancient ARL-loyal clubs guided by a Super League coach has made the grand final via a revolutionary and entertaining game, while waving banners for amalgamation and the salary cap in a stadium bursting with enthusiasm.

It doesn't get much better than that, especially when you throw in that the Wests Tigers are also dragging a Kiwi audience along with them the way Manly-Warringah did in the days when league began a surge in this country through the televising of the Winfield Cup.

The Wests Tigers are a once-in-a-generation team, the brilliant coming together of many unfancied parts - from journeymen and club stalwarts like John Skandalis to bargain-basement recruits and the twinkle-toed magician Benji Marshall, who is forever a hop, skip and a jump away from embarrassing the best of defences.

Marshall, you sense, may have been too light and unorthodox for a heavyweight club's liking, and needed a rag-tag bunch of desperadoes to let him unleash his instinctive way of playing.

Fear of failure can shackle, yet bullets fly in the no-chance saloon.

The key has been coach Tim Sheens, whose reputation and experience allowed the experiment in speed and agility to flourish.

Not only this, but Wests Tigers give all the appearance of the sneaky but good-hearted kids bringing down the big baddies, like in an Enid Blyton story. They are small but tenacious, loved by all ages, and are writing a story that is simply too good to be true for the NRL.

Wests Tigers will win the grand final - the script has been written. The tight-knit winners' club has been invaded, the skulduggery of the past can be forgotten.

In America, they would already be working on the made-for-television movie.

Australian Rules has never needed such excuses to smother the lens in mist. History and heroes beckon from every sports page, where players' career game numbers are attached in parenthesis not only as guides but also badges of honour.

The Rules grand final week lifts this to a whole new level.

Fanaticism is legendary in this game. West Coast Eagles fans are said to have departed last week's semifinal in Perth early so they could begin their camp-out for grand final tickets. Plane flights from Perth to Melbourne - Rules' traditional home and the venue for Saturday's grand final between West Coast and Sydney Swans - were quickly booked out, so some Eagles fans travelled via stopovers in Singapore and Auckland.

There is a Peter Pan quality to Rules, which is played in kiddies' vests and shorts that were big in about 1978 and very small in every other way. They even refer to their game, in kids-speak, as "footy".

The heroes and legends are framed in grand final templates, with only names and addresses to be added by the commentators.

"They will talk about Leo Barry's mark forever," goes head to head with "Wow, it's hard to know what to say", "They lost no friends in defeat", and "A new hero in town", as the saying of the day.

The Swans, a transplanted club which used to be the South Melbourne "Bloods", triumphed 58-54 thanks to the last-gasp mark by the aforementioned Barry.

For good measure, Leaping Leo was lost for words, well, any words that were decipherable, when asked if he had ever taken a better mark, although he did slip in a barely audible "moment to cherish". Meanwhile, everyone commiserated with the Eagles.

There were some complexities, however. It was actually difficult to tell that the triumphant town involved was Sydney because, in the Aussie Rules heartland, the Swans are still very much the Bloods (one-quarter of their club members are still Victorians). And the Bloods have been bleeding since 1933.

A millisecond after the game finished, what you had to presume was the Bloods' anthem was playing. It sounded like a speeded up version of a Kremlin-supplied Soviet workers' song of years ago, and it clung to the airwaves like Leo Barry clung to that mark.

There has been some reworking of historical icons, however.

The victorious Rules grand final players used to cram on to a wooden apparatus that was not much bigger than a stool for the victory jig. Maybe OSH slapped it with safety violation stickers because they've upgraded to a low circular podium, and here comes the winning mark. Each victor is presented with his medal by a kid, who is dressed in playing gear with the appropriate number.

The players stoop to the kids' height so the medal can be placed around their necks.

It is one of the nicest touches in sport as the great keep their seats and the good share a stage with their heroes at the ultimate moment for Rules.

The exuberant Wests Tigers will take to their grandest stage this week. And just like Aussie Rules, league can look everyone in the eye again.