DANE ELDRIDGE: Wayne Bennett’s dour take on Alex Johnston try-scoring record shows he needs to cheer up

As Russell Crowe’s former bodyguard and a man who regularly broke containment lines on the field, Spudd Carroll knows plenty about venue security and grumpy blokes.

But with the deepest respect to the beloved former hitman, his defence of Wayne Bennett was like arguing Terry Lamb’s 1988 coat-hanger on Ellery Hanley was a misdirected ankle tap.

If you missed it, Bennett was starchy on Friday night following Souths 26-18 loss to the Roosters, seething post-match over the “disruptive” nature of the Allianz Stadium pitch pile-on for Alex Johnston’s euphoric record-breaking try.

Carroll agreed with the supercoach - albeit reluctantly - expressing in Monday’s edition of The Nightly of the potential hazards for players and how the ensuing 19 minute delay undoubtedly impacted the players flow.

These are fair arguments too- but let’s get fair dinkum.

Yes, South Sydney’s momentum was snapped, and yes, no professional footballer should be onrushed by thousands of aimless patrons taking selfies, especially when his only protection is a layer of polyester and Cam Murray.

And of course, nobody doubts the danger of being in such hazardous proximity to that many rabid Souths fans, or worse, a standing Prime Minister.

But Johnston’s record was a 53-year event in the making totally worth the glorious chaos that unfolded- even if it meant an intermission and a few trip hazards.

He was pissed off simply because he’s a career contrarian - and it’s our fault because we’ve encouraged it.

And there’s nobody in rugby league who would’ve understood this better than Bennett.

Sure, the veteran coach had one genuine reason to be nonplussed about Ken Irvine’s mark being usurped- after all, he was probably alive to see Horrie Miller first hold the mantle in 1908.

But as a genius with a sense for the big moment - and an advocate for celebrating everything good about rugby league - the rare gravity of Johnston’s achievement would not have been lost on the Rabbits coach.

Not just the history, but also the fact only thing the rest of us have witnessed that’s as remotely momentous has been Cam Smith’s point scoring record, or more significant, the time he was sin-binned.

Yet here Bennett was charmlessly dismissing Johnston’s achievement like a cranky neighbour who’d report a deciduous tree in autumn for littering.

“Pretty disruptive. We’re out there trying to win a game of football. We’re all out there trying our hearts out and all of a sudden it stops and takes all the momentum.

“I’ve said a fair bit about it and I hate repeating myself, so let’s move on. I was at a press conference yesterday and I got asked a thousand questions about it, which I answered.”

One can only imagine had Ricky Stuart been such an enemy of joy and how quickly he’d be headlined, fined and dumped in the firing line for the public’s ravenous consumption.

But not Bennett.

That’s because hearing the 76-year-old mastermind whinge is nothing new.

And to be fair, him complaining about people on the pitch is just another old man bleating at kids to stay off his lawn.

But for all his accepted behaviour as the game’s greatest mind, this time the artful codger stretched his privileges way too far.

With seven premierships and more first grade games to his name than Steeden, Bennett will go down in history as arguably the game’s finest coach.

But for a bloke who sees the game in 4K, sadly he speaks it in ham radio.

Sure, he’s earned the right to produce whatever he likes in front of the microphone - even if it’s usually inertia - but hijacking this accomplishment simply because there were too many people and it pushed back his bedtime was regrettable.

Even allowing for his low-vibrational style and lifelong crusade against the media, Bennett’s cute-mute act in a moment like Friday’s proves he’s either forgotten about his responsibility to the game or he simply doesn’t care.

And to be honest, he probably wasn’t upset because the game was interrupted or it cost his side a chance to stick it up the Chooks.

He was pissed off simply because he’s a career contrarian - and it’s our fault because we’ve encouraged it.

Legend has it that if you piece together every Bennett press conference since 1987 it’s almost enough for an entire sentence.

And ‘sentence’ is an apt word, because while it used to be funny seeing Danny Weidler and company squirm, nowadays his monosyllabic pressers are like penal hardship.

It was a novel schtick for the first 20 years, but now we’re starting to wonder if Bennett’s just rancorous or it’s the longest audition ever for Weekend at Bernie’s 3.

Put simply, Bennett is a demigod with such imperious IP that one sidemouthed remark can have a butterfly effect on the game.

But while the people listen when he speaks, what’s the point when it’s just dismissive grunts in Morse code?

We know it’s too late for the seven-time premiership winner to stop acting with the persona of a timber pallet.

But would it kill him to shelve it occasionally- even if it’s once every 53 years?