SUNDAY dawn on Manly's Corso brought out more shades of deep red than a college of cardinals, but there was little ecclesiastical about the Sea Eagle fans staggering about in a post-celebration state, 24 hours early.

If not drunk on communal wine, what were they doing? Having a premonition? Getting in early in case it went bad later?

Whatever the answer, the scene, repeated on ferries and buses through the afternoon, was in keeping with league's day of laughter and forgetting. In its 100th year, rugby league appealed to its past, celebrating the surviving men of the match from previous grand finals.

The pre-match dance of barbecues called up another tradition, the return to the afternoon grand final. At half time there was meant to be a minute's silence for a league hero from the past, the late Harry Bath. But it was interrupted by an advertising jingle.

Yesterday was also an appeal to amnesia. On the field was one club that did not exist for the first 90 years of league and has little compelling reason to exist now: Melbourne, the code's spoilt princess born as a bargaining chip in the post-Super League compromise deal. The other club has been despised for most of its history for embodying the values that now keep the Storm aloft.

For neutral fans the choice of pre-game entertainment was apt: Manly versus Melbourne is, for many, the Living End. Vale, Newtown, North Sydney, and the merger victims.

But if so much is fleeting, the lure is the skill of the players. Form is temporary, class permanent. Yesterday gave us the courage of Brent Kite smashing it up all day; the speed of Michael Robertson on Manly's wing; the finesse of Matt Orford and Jamie Lyon that make grand finals stick in the memory.

And Steve Menzies, the one-club man who grew in the sandy peninsula soil and was playing for Manly six years before the Storm were a twinkle in Rupert Murdoch's eye.

If there was any clash of cultures to hold onto, it was the local versus the corporate. At the Manly-Warringah Leagues Club the scene was of sheer elation.

For Kerry and Daryl Pellatt, the win was a sentimental one. Mr Pellatt has cancer, and it was his wish to watch the grand final there, having come all the way from Lismore. He sat quietly for most of the game, but when they scored he found the Manly spirit to stand and cheer.

"This has been a really great thing for him to see Manly win," Mrs Pellatt said. "It has given him more hope about life."

Geography still matters, as any Manly fan can and probably will tell you. To paraphrase Kim Beazley, Melbourne fans had to go home to Melbourne; Manly fans got to go home to God's country.