MILES AND MILES FOR MANNERING

History’s most-travelled NRL star

Simon Mannering will play his 300th game for the Warriors at Mt Smart Stadium tomorrow night. It could, depending on results, be the last time he plays at his home ground.

The club, smartly, have priced the match to ensure there is a big crowd to see him off. That would be fitting. I can’t make it. That is also fitting. Call it a blind spot, call it a failure of logic, but I have never been seduced by Mannering’s considerable charms.

Thankfully I have always had plenty of smarter, more passionate people around me to tell me the ways that I’m wrong.

Steve Deane springs to mind. The one-time Herald league reporter who can now be found on Newsroom has never owned an opinion he has been afraid of loudly voicing. His contempt for anybody who suggested Mannering may have had a quiet game was palpable, his disdain incontestable.

Even when I rang him yesterday to discuss, he said without prompting: “F*** me, here we go.”

David Skipwith has continued the masthead’s fine league-writing lineage. He, too, has attempted to proselytise me to the church of Mannering.

“He embodies everything the club should be and aspires to be. It’s his professionalism, his unwavering loyalty to the club. Yes, he’s a straight up-and-down player, he’s tough and resilient, but there’s more to him than that.

“I don’t know if that makes you an idiot for not recognising that — maybe just ignorant.”

Then there’s my father, who has spent most of his adult life counting in multiples of six. He would chisel Mannering’s likeness on any Mt Rushmore of New Zealand league. He’s probably not angry that I push back on this suggestion, just disappointed.

I can’t say exactly what it is about Mannering that has failed to ignite my fire. Perhaps it is because league’s increasing regimentation began to bother me around about the time Mannering was becoming part of the Penrose furniture. Maybe I’ve marked Mannering down because he always does the right bloody thing at the right time.

Granted, it’s not a great justification, but it’s the only one I’ve got. If this is true, then my contrarianism is a black mark on me, not Mannering.

If you are of a certain vintage you might recall that comedy rock duo Tenacious D once hitchhiked down a long and lonesome road, when appeared a shiny demon. He said: “Play the best song in the world, or I’ll eat your souls”.

The devil was cast aside when they played the first song that came into their heads. It might not have been the best song in the world, but it was a tribute.

As Mannering’s yeoman career winds down there will be thousands of wonderful, heartfelt stories written about him. This won’t be the best one that you’ll read, but it is the first thing that came into my head . . .

And it is a tribute.

Maybe I’ve marked Mannering down because he always does the right bloody thing at the right time.