IN ANOTHER life, Geoff Toovey would pick out opposition players twice his size and fearlessly cut them down with arrogant aplomb.
Standing in the middle of Brookvale Oval yesterday, the former captain-cum-waterboy was cutting down only notions the Storm had endured untold drama in the lead-up to the grand final while Manly had enjoyed a journey as easy as driving against Military Road traffic during peak hour.
"Drama? Not really. I think they've created their own drama," said Toovey, he of the gravelly voice and 1996 premiership. "They had their captain suspended. Sure, that's drama. But the other stuff, the ranting and raving c they've created the drama themselves to spur them on. It worked against the Sharks. I bet they're doing the same thing this week."
While the defending premiers seem as paranoid as a stoner uni student who has just been spotted by his lecturer at the back of the room and asked a question, the boys from the northern peninsula could not cut a more contrasting figure.
They seemed so chilled at their open media session you wondered if someone had forgotten to tell them they had a grand final to play. Against the Storm. Who spanked them red raw about this time last year.
As captain Matt Orford walked down the tunnel, one journalist asked him to bung on a limp for the television cameras. "They told me not to," the halfback laughed.
When it came to the obligatory team pic, all second-rower Glenn Hall was worried about was sunburn. "Has anyone got any sunscreen for Hally," asked one player. "Let's get nude," suggested another.
Veteran Steve Menzies told one gathering of hacks that never in his time in a maroon-and-white jumper had he been as nervous as he was before last Saturday night's preliminary final against the Warriors. "We are much more relaxed this year than last," he told the Herald later.
In every sense, rugby league is a rich and wondrous tapestry.
Remember round 22? Fortress Brookvale burned that night when Manly owned the ball and every inch of grass but still lost to the Storm 16-10.
Even the true believers must have trudged across Pittwater Road and considered as they waited in line at McDonald's the notion that their side just doesn't have what it takes, whatever that is, to beat the Melbourne freakin' Storm.
As they peeled the gherkins off their quarter pounders with cheese and pinged them across the room in anger, they must surely have wondered if Orford, who unfurled just the two half-decent kicks, had a premiership in him. But back in the sheds, the Manly players weren't crying into their beers or isotonic-laden sports drinks.
"Our players came off that field thinking we were the better side that night," Toovey insists. "That sounds a bit silly. But it didn't knock their confidence at all. It spurred them on."
It might explain their serene nature with redemption now so close. Or why coach Des Hasler calmly thumbed a newspaper in the shade for most of yesterday's session before walking straight into a sea of reporters, cameras and microphones.
"Under the radar!" one player shouted out, echoing Hasler's call earlier this year to give the press nothing in interviews.
"Have you ever watched last year's grand final?" one reporter asked.
"No," he replied.
"Never seen it?"
"No."
"Will you let your players see it?"
"No."
Vintage Des Hasler, as expansive as ever