The Cowboys have been so slack in 2025 that even with one round remaining they’ve already downed tools for Mad Monday.
Yet despite another painstakingly anemic campaign, the only person in rugby league who seems narky about the whole thing is Todd Payten.
We all know the Cowboys have always been a team that blows hot and cold- but the last two seasons, they just blow.
This might’ve been acceptable during the lean innocence of the 1990s when wins were rarer than free-to-air broadcasts, but not since the club blew its comfort zone by luring Johnathan Thurston and winning a premiership.
Nowadays North Queensland has gravitas thanks to boasting enough Origin players to stage their own Sanctuary Cove bonding session, plus a home ground advantage that forces opposition sides to virtually play inside a locked sedan on a summer’s day.
So in a game like rugby league – where outrage is so common it could be a stat on the VB Hard Earned Index – how do the Cowboys consistently escape a pizzling for failing to capitalise?
It’s simple: because they are cheating the system.
As an organisation that lives off the grid 2000km up the road, North Queensland are grossly circumventing rugby league outrage through range doping.
Put simply, the tropics are too remote for Sydney’s power base of media and player agents, meaning no journalist can be bothered flying four hours to eyeball the coach on who’s “signed for ‘26” nor any agent to follow in-tow with the truth and a larger offer from Souths.
Thanks to this tyranny of distance, the Cowboys always remain stable because nobody’s confecting leaks or rifling through their dumpster after a month of losses.
Cowboys coach Todd Payten. (Photo by Ian Hitchcock/Getty Images)
But down here in Sydney, NSW clubs continue to be burdened by the NRL’s inequities, as per usual.
We’ve got press hanging out of trees and CEOs being door-stopped at every turn, all while Latrell Mitchell and Nathan Cleary can’t double park without appearing in What’s the Buzz.
And while some clubs do benefit from shady inequities like third party agreements and Phil Gould, it’s nothing on the Cowboys immeasurable advantage of being allowed to continually suck without scrutiny.
Add being based in a region intubated with gratitude simply for the licence and the lack of a mutinous local media, and this club has become Queensland’s version of the Newcastle Knights, except with actual hope.
But like most things, this entire atrocity can be blamed solely on the state of Queensland.
Because the northern state cares more about Origin than NRL footy, clubs beyond the Tweed can flounder for years before copping a hairy eye or a negative headline thanks to hiding in the plain sight of Maroon hubris.
In fact, this protection racket is so rife that apparently they’ve got a team on the Gold Coast now, but buggered if you’d know it.
Besides a throbbing enclave of psychos in Brisbane reared on Broncos premierships in the 90s, the only time Queensland care about club footy is when it’s time to pinch back their players to give the Blues another touch-up.
All while down here in rugby league headquarters, Shane Flanagan can’t pick his son without accusations of nepotism and Manly can’t cannibalise itself in peace.
What would these clubs give to be holed-up like Julian Assange in rugby league’s answer to the Ecuadorian embassy?
In summary, the NRL has a class system and it’s bent against Sydney – and it’s like the old saying goes:
If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, the forest is probably in North Queensland and the tree is probably Payten.
Dane Eldridgehttps://www.theroar.com.au/2025/09/06/nrls-flawed-class-system-why-are-cowboys-allowed-to-be-terrible-and-nobody-else-flies-under-the-radar/NRL’s flawed class system: Why are Cowboys allowed to be terrible and nobody else flies under the radar?
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