Everyone has an opinion on the Penrith Panthers. Most of them aren’t good.
It didn’t start that way. In 2020, when a young, exciting Panthers side led by a teenage Nathan Cleary stormed into the grand final on the back of a 17-game winning streak, neutral fans across Australia were riding with them. They were the underdog story. The western Sydney battlers. The team nobody saw coming.
Then they won four straight premierships. And everything changed.
From 2021 to 2024, the Panthers appeared in five consecutive grand finals, the most since South Sydney in 1967 to 1971, winning four of them back to back. In doing so, they didn’t just dominate the competition. They broke records that had stood for decades, surpassing Parramatta’s three-peat from 1981 to 1983 and becoming the most successful team of the modern salary cap era. To their fans, it was the greatest dynasty rugby league had ever seen. To everyone else, it became something to despise.
ESPN put it bluntly: by the time Penrith were lining up for a fifth straight title, the good grace of the rest of the fanbase had long worn out. Anyone who had initially cheered for the Panthers had reached the point where they would cheer on just about anyone to end their run.
And the data confirms it. A LeagueUnlimited poll of nearly 700 NRL fans found 30.3% of respondents nominated Penrith as a team they hate, with Brisbane fans ranking them second most hated, Rabbitohs fans ranking them second, Storm fans third, and Eels fans fourth. No matter which corner of the competition you came from, Penrith was your enemy.
But it wasn’t just the winning that lit the fire. It was the way they did it.
Players like Jarome Luai became known for getting in opponents’ faces when they made mistakes. Try celebrations were over the top and theatrical. Their on-field mannerisms rubbed fans of rival clubs the wrong way from the very first year of the dynasty. What Panthers supporters called confidence, everyone else called arrogance. That line in rugby league is razor thin, and Penrith crossed it repeatedly.
Then came the incident that perfectly captured why so many people resent this club. After thrashing the New Zealand Warriors 32-6 in a 2023 finals match, the Panthers posted a series of social media content using the slogan “Up the Pahs,” a deliberate mockery of the Warriors’ beloved catchcry “Up the Wahs.” Players joined in. The backlash was immediate and ferocious. One fan wrote online: “Penrith already get criticism for perceived arrogance, this is a ham-fisted attempt at leaning into that. Against any other club it might be fair play, but the Warriors did nothing to provoke this.” The Panthers deleted the posts and issued an apology, but the damage was done.
Then there is the judiciary controversy that reignited the debate in 2026. When Nathan Cleary received a two-game suspension for a high shot on Wests Tigers winger Heamasi Makasini, his father and head coach Ivan Cleary represented him personally at the NRL judiciary. The panel deliberated for just 12 minutes before overturning the ban and downgrading it to an $1,800 fine. Former NRL premiership winner Bryan Fletcher publicly questioned whether the outcome would have been the same for any other player, suggesting the Cleary surname may have carried weight in that room. Panthers fans pushed back hard. The debate exploded across social media for days.
That is the thing about this club. They don’t just divide opinion. They ignite it.
After winning the four-peat, co-captains Nathan Cleary and Isaah Yeo publicly dismissed claims from Parramatta legends Ray Price and Peter Wynn that the great Eels teams of the 1980s were superior. Cleary posted a quote from Price on his Instagram story with an inquisitive emoji. It was a small gesture, but it said everything. This is a team that does not back down, does not stay quiet, and does not apologise for being the best. To their fans, that is admirable. To everyone else, it is exactly the problem.
Even after Brisbane ended their four-peat streak in the 2025 preliminary final, voices within the Panthers’ world refused to accept the dynasty was over. “Is Nathan Cleary retiring? Is Isaah Yeo retiring? Is Ivan Cleary walking away?” asked one prominent rugby league commentator. “I think we’re in the middle of it.”
That is what makes the Panthers so uniquely infuriating to rival fans. They are not finished. They are not fading. And somewhere deep down, the people who hate them most already know it.
Dominance doesn’t earn love in rugby league. It earns enemies. Penrith has more of those than any club in the competition, and they earned every single one.
