The relationship between Ben Hunt and the Dragons became so toxic that he was only one collagen injection shy of qualifying for Married at First Sight.
Beginning with Hunt’s first public spray 18 months ago and ending with him insulting the coach’s son, the stunning breakdown between club and captain unfolded across two seasons like the time lapse footage of a frankfurt slowly prolapsing.
In an ongoing game of intra-club brinkmanship to rival the modern works of Des Hasler, Hunt’s continual drive-bys were as equally scathing as St George Illawarra’s repeated punishment of forcing him to stay.
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Once the halfback leaked details of his private end-of-year appraisal from Shane Flanagan then publicly endorsed Clint Gutherson as his preferred halves partner for 2025 – a stunning backhander to current five-eighth and Flanagan’s son Kyle – the relationship was officially flyblown.
But with the Dragons mercifully releasing Hunt from the final year of his deal last week, what is the main lesson we can take away from this titillating feud?
It’s simple: never accept a million dollars.
Everyone knew the moment Hunt inked his signature that he’d made a huge error by accepting seven figures on his salary.
That’s because besides the actual money, the ‘Million Dollar Man’ tag in rugby league is a heavy cross that only the most resolute footballer can bear – and not even someone imbued with the Queensland Spirit like Hunt is strong enough to withstand its combined weight of expectation and wallet.
A byproduct of supply shortages and panic buying of the NRL’s trailer park clubs, Hunt is not the first bloke to accept a desperately overblown $1 million offer to only later be savaged by its heinous fine print.
In lay terms, being ‘The Million Dollar Man’ makes you liable for every woe suffered by a club – both pre and post the player’s career – all while dealing with expectations to perform beyond the supernatural.
But that’s not where it ends.
The tag also works wickedly in reverse, as it allows teammates like Corey Norman to bludge on the blind without criticism simply because he’s below the threshold on a meagre $950,000.
Many a Million Dollar Man has been crushed by the label, with boom names like Ash Taylor, Anthony Milford, Sam Tomkins and the eternally-maligned Luke Brooks all considered ‘flops’ merely because they accepted an extra zero on their deals and kicked a few grubbers dead on the fifth.
Today’s current crop is no different.
Nicho Hynes. (Photo by Brendon Thorne/Getty Images)
Nobody can appraise the performances of David Fifita, Nico Hynes or Latrell Mitchell without mentioning their salary, nor can anyone get excited about Jarome Luai joining the Tigers next year until we know his quarter one ROI.
And won’t someone think of Reece Walsh?
Sure, the superstar’s new megabucks deal with the Broncos will burst the seams on his Hermes crossbody bag, but the $1 million price tag will also draw more eyes than ever to a fishbowl career that already gets a back page just for trimming a fingernail.
Will the same fate as Hunt’s befall the handsome youngster at Red Hill?
To be fair, planting a Queensland boy like Hunt in Sydney’s southern suburbs to lead a dysfunctional joint venture was as mislaid as a gluten intolerant in a bakery.
And despite giving his utmost for the club week-in week-out, his dedication only wavered in the latter stages of this season as he marshalled his side with one hand while biffing administrators with the other.
Provided Walsh doesn’t hitch his star to Anthony Griffin or air his grievances through Danny Weidler, he will go a long way to ensuring his time at the Broncos doesn’t devolve in to an on-again, off-again game of public gaslighting that occasionally ceases for the odd game of footy.