You’re standing atop a plastic seat on the eastern side of Manly Oval enjoying a golden ale on a golden afternoon. It’s late Autumn, sunny, maybe 24 degrees. And the list of places you would not rather be includes New York, Paris and a pool party at Jessica Alba’s place. Sunshine dapples the field in what photographers call “golden hour”.
Kids bolt about as kids do while industrious types make use of milk crates to see over fellow spectators six-deep on the fence. The footy on field is willing, physical and skilled. Manly Marlins dominate early, thundering out to a 25-3 lead over local rivals Warringah Rats. And for rugby types, Rats types included, there is nowhere you’d rather be (though you might try to catch Jessica’s pool party later).
The Rats and Marlins, the two premier rugby clubs of the northern beaches will play their 100th game in July and continue Australian rugby’s best and most famous local derby. All the elements are here. Tribalism? Two halves of a peninsula, north and south. History? Lumps of it – the Rats broke free to tread their own path in 1963 and begat half a century of sibling rivalry. Mateship? These people surf together, work together, school together. After matches they carouse together in Wharf Bar, Round Bar or the bar once known as Newport Arms. Sometimes all three.
Back on that unsteady plastic seat we have an over-the-heads view of a cracking match at Village Green. The rugby is fast and physical, high-skilled. Shute Shield is semi-pro ball, meaning some of these people play professionally, the rest are professionals – accountants, tilers, police. And they want it. And you can see they do because you’re 10 metres from their mugs.
Half-time and kids bolt about on field. There’s connection here, between players and fans. The Rats’ Colts on the eastern sideline and their Manly counterparts on the north-west hill are loud and fun. And while you mightn’t have any ‘skin’ in either club, this game – and the greater event that it is – makes you proud – of the city, of the country, of rugby. For here on the sideline, fans get along. Much like elections, they don’t take the outcome too seriously. It is a game, after all. When the sun comes up you still live in the world’s best country. And these are, and always will be, one’s people. Doesn’t mean blood is not spilled, however.
Damien ‘Turtle’ Cummins played over 200 games for Manly Marlins and relished the physicality of the derby. He describes battles with the northern Rats of Warringah, as “fix bayonets from 10 paces and rip in”.
“From the opening whistle, it was just on,” says Cummins. “In the early ‘90s I was in one of my first derbies, we played at Manly, and the Rats had a pretty fearsome pack. Young and stupid me, I punched Mat Guberina in the head while I was lying on my back, bottom of the ruck. “He grabbed me by the throat and was about to put my head through the cricket pitch when the siren sounded for half-time. He suggested I was lucky the whistle went. I agreed!”
Cummins’ daughter Alice had been brought up with the green-and-whites as enemies, her dad as a knight in red-and-blue. When he headed north to coach the Rats, it was controversial. “She wouldn’t talk to me for a week,” smiles Cummins. “She came around, eventually.”
Matt Cleary, editor of Beaches Champion, provides daily news about the people and clubs involved in sport on the Northern Beaches. Keep up to date with his great work at: www.beacheschampion.com.au