High Steaks: Why Matty Johns’ ‘greatest win’ was over his brother Joey

Like most siblings, Matty and Andrew Johns were both best friends and fierce rivals, and did not always see eye-to-eye – but they have always managed to bury the hatchet.

Rugby league thrives off the back of epic rivalries – Roosters v Rabbitohs, Bulldogs v Eels – but perhaps the biggest of them all began in the Hunter Valley 50 years ago, when a three-year-old Matty Johns first laid eyes on his newborn brother Andrew.

The siblings were born and raised out of the same bedroom at Cessnock before they went on to become one of the greatest partnerships the game has seen, sharing a premiership triumph with the Newcastle Knights and State of Origin victories for NSW.

Like most siblings, the boys were both best friends and fierce rivals, and did not always see eye-to-eye. They often argued.

Now, as adults with their own families, nothing has changed. Some fights last days, others weeks or months. One even stretched out for three years.

But they have always managed to bury the hatchet, says Matty Johns.

Andrew (left) and Matthew Johns. “We sort of just drift off and go sit on different islands for a while. I think we both enjoy the break.”

“We sort of just drift off and go sit on different islands for a while. I think we both enjoy the break,” Johns says.

Over lunch at The Collaroy, on the northern beaches, he tells the story of the time the pair came to blows when they were teammates for the Knights, outside The Cricketers Arms in Newcastle.

Johns, 53, jokes landing one on the chin of eighth immortal Andrew ‘Joey’ Johns’ was the biggest win of his career.

Matty Johns talking over lunch at The Collaroy. Picture: Thomas Lisson

The meal consisted on a 250g Tajima MB4 top sirloin, shoestring fries, roasted potatoes and a pina colada. Picture: Thomas Lisson

“Joey was my greatest victory, outside the Cricketers Arms Hotel,” Johns says.

The most recent fallout stemmed from criticism Johns made on radio about the 2023 State of Origin Blues, a team Andrew helped coach.

He heaped praise on Maroons coach Billy Slater, earning the ire of Andrew, 50.

It led to nine months of silent treatment.

While Johns’ eldest son Jack, 27, helped end the feud during a surprise visit to Andrew’s house earlier this year, they have not stayed in touch.

“We opened the door and he was there, and we just cuddled, sat down, and had a beer,” Johns says.

“That was it. Then we walked out again and that’s as simple as that. I don’t know if we’ve spoken inadvertently since then, but everything is sweet.”

Andrew and Matty Johns celebrate a Knights try in 1999. Picture: Robert McKell

Growing up as the eldest of three with a hardworking father, Gary, who put in long shifts down a coal mine, Johns felt the weight of family responsibility early on.

His father’s work schedule rarely overlapped with Johns’ waking hours, leaving him to step up as the man of the house.

“His (Gary) life was in a dark hole, in a pit,” Johns says.

“His shift started at midnight for a long time growing up. I was the eldest son. You have to take a fair bit of that on.”

But even with a world of responsibility from a young age, Johns learnt early on he loves having a “good time”.

“It’s a constant battle between the love of your children, the love of your wife, and the love of a good time,” Johns says.

Playing in an era without smartphones or constant surveillance, Johns insists today’s players are far better behaved than those from his time.

Of the drug scandals that have rocked the NRL this year, he says rugby league players are no different to the rest of society.

“One of them (the players) will f--- up and they will say, ‘These footballers’,” Johns says.

“Anything that a young sportsperson endures is just a microcosm of life.

“People say, ‘Oh, does sport have a drug problem?’ I don’t know. But does society have a drug problem?

“What are you saying, that people who play sports are totally different to the person down the street? Same people, flesh and blood, same temptations, same stuff.”

Having left the party life (mostly) behind, Johns is a dedicated family man and one of the hardest working guys in the media. No other sporting media star has a schedule as hectic as Johns. He works on two TV shows, three podcasts, a radio show and writes a column for The Daily Telegraph.

Matty Johns at his Collaroy home with wife Trish. Picture: Sam Ruttyn

A self-proclaimed “catastrophe”, Johns says none of it would be possible without Trish, his wife of 27 years, managing everything behind the scenes.

Johns says he doesn’t use a computer, email or social media, and Trish is the brains who does “everything”.

“It’s just out of necessity,” Johns says.

“I’m hopeless at everything, and a lot of the time it’s a little chat in my brain.

“If someone said to me, ‘Take those four chairs inside the pub’, I’m a catastrophe. I would say ‘How am I going to f--- this up’.”

For years, Trish also transcribed his Telegraph columns, until Johns discovered the dictation feature on his smartphone.

“It changed my life, because when me and Trish used to argue, she would hold it against me,” Johns says.

“She would say, ‘Oh well, how about I don’t type your article this week’.”

Matty Johns last year with his sons, Jack Johns of the Knights and Cooper Johns of the Sea Eagles, before they retired from rugby league. Picture: Getty Images

His reliance on Trish became even more apparent when he was called on to cover the 2024 Paris Olympics for three weeks for Fox Sports. He says the producers got a rude shock at his rudimentary technical abilities.

One worker crowned him a “producer’s worst nightmare”.

“She said, ‘I think you might be the only person in the whole world that does your system of what you do. It is so backward’,” Johns says.

“I always think, give me hard copy and I’ll write it all in my own handwriting.”

Despite his unconventional methods, there is no denying Johns has become one of the most valuable media personalities in Australia.

But, above all else, his biggest focus is family. Welcoming his two retired footballer sons back into his northern beaches home, Johns is learning how blurred the lines are between being a dad and a friend.

With Jack now working on private endeavours and Cooper, 25, a producer on The Kyle and Jackie O Show, Johns is hoping his sons can carve out success in new fields.

While willing to help in whatever way he can, Johns is excited to sit back and watch their journeys unfold.

“I’m certainly not in the business of giving my kids advice like, ‘Sit down, listen to me. I’m always right’. You know, I’m not that sort of father,” Johns says.

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Originally published as High Steaks: Why Matty Johns’ ‘greatest win’ was over his brother Joey