We’re yet to find our story at Wests Tigers. Let’s write it as one word: magic

Two years ago, I wrote how the Tigers had lost their plot and their salvation lay in storytelling. Today, it remains the same. This week, the CEO and the entire board of directors were removed. Perhaps our story will emerge.

I often think the Tigers are tortured.

A lifetime supporter: the author, Jack Manning Bancroft, as a boy in his Tigers jersey.

I’m a Bundjalung man, descended from people of the NSW north coast, and I was born and raised in one of the Tigers’ historical homelands, Balmain. My totem is a platypus, which many stories say was birthed the wrong way – via a water rat and duck. The Wests Tigers, as they have been since the 1999 merger, were born the wrong way from two 100-year-old histories into an era of professionalism, individual brands and self-obsession. It was a hashing together of roots, fighting for space on the jersey, two hearts and two deeply woven bloodlines trying to find a common thread.

The Wests Tigers are not a story yet.

Any solution that positions the end of one part of this fusion doesn’t get the true potential of the mutant. It must embrace all of its being. The future of the Tigers is its mutated history, Balmain and the wide wonderful tapestry of Sydney’s west. That’s the big story potential here.

The platypus can look like it’s making a mess in the water. But its role in nature is to churn the water, and afterwards the water is healthy. The Tigers’ board is gone, the new CEO is here. The water has been well and truly churned. The next generation of coaches and players are looking to the whiteboard. What will they write up there?

I hope they write one word: magic. Straight-up magic.

I’ve wondered why sporting grounds don’t make tickets as cheap as possible – $5 and they’d sell out the show every week. Build a narrative together. I’m sure the commerce catches up with jersey sales and food and beverages. The story definitely deepens.

“You’re here to entertain,” former Australian cricket captain Steve Waugh said. I wonder if the Wests Tigers put up one goal – to make magic real, to entertain, as their first metric – we could score the most-replayed try every week. We would create the most wonder and awe.

We have a history of it. The Tigers won 10 premierships between 1911 and 1924, via the war to end all wars. As World War II opened, the Tigers won again – and clinched four premierships between 1939-47. It would be another 22 years until the Tigers would win again, in 1969. By then, my mother and grandfather had been included as citizens of Australia for two years.

Almost 20 years later, the Tigers were robbed of two premierships, the first in 1988 when Terry Lamb whacked Ellery “eats celery” Hanley, the Tigers star. When Ellery was stretchered off, that was the match. Then, in the 1989 grand final, the wind literally changed and a wobbly drop-kick couldn’t find its way, and I saw my dad break down for the first time as I watched on as a four-year-old.

Jack Manning Bancroft’s father, Ned Manning, flying the colours.Credit: Photo supplied

It would be almost another 20 years until the Tigers, now merged with the Magpies, would find their way into a grand final, this time to raise the trophy, in 2005.

The good news is, it’s been almost 20 years since they won the comp, and the history books show us that the Wests Tigers could well win it next year. There’s a fashion rule that says trends repeat every 20 years, but this is much less frivolous. This is much deeper.

Just maybe the game doesn’t stop or start on the field. As custodians, we must get to know the Tiger and the Magpie. And perhaps the next board asks: What of kindness? Maybe each home game offers 100 tickets to some very important people – the fans – and puts them in the VIP boxes with the sponsors.

We should remind ourselves that sport gives us energy when we give it our hopes and dreams for miracles and stories to take us away from the pain of today, to show us what is possible with a human body, with a team of humans who have a common story.

Maybe there’s a fresh whiteboard, and Benji and the gang will show us what it means under immense pressure to keep our inner kid alive, to play, no matter how dark the headlines. We can imagine, and there is always something we don’t know yet – and that is the magic of what may be.

The author’s younger brother, Joe Manning, with Benji Marshall in the sheds after a game.

Jack Manning Bancroft is the author of Hoodie Economics: Changing Our Systems to Value What Matters. He is founder and chief executive of AIME & IMAGI-NATION, a “digital country for the world” that seeks to alleviate inequity through a global network.