Fools are us. Why, after all these years, do we still doubt them? Or Him?

Last week, in a time otherwise known as Before Cleary, the best team of the NRL era just about looked done, staggering to the finish line at the end of a sapping regular season, and scraping past a team with their minds probably already in Bali. If some of Penrith’s players were racehorses, like Dylan Edwards and Liam Martin, and had walked into the mounting yard at Royal Randwick, you couldn’t possibly have your last on them, covered in strapping to all parts of the body. Their canny coach, when asked who should be favourites heading into the finals, just shrugged and said: “Not us”. That’s Melbourne. Who were we to argue?

But that was BC. If there is a rugby league God, he might wear the Panthers No.7.

In six days, with Nathan Cleary returning from a subluxed shoulder no one quite knows will make it all the way through to grand final day, the transformation of the Panthers was complete. They’re just 80 minutes away from a fifth straight berth in the decider, dispatching the patched-up Roosters 30-10 at BlueBet Stadium on Friday night.

It was fitting a familiar face put on one last show at the old girl, set to be bulldozed in coming months for a newer model. By the time they cut the ribbon, they could make a case to put Cleary’s name on a grandstand.

Storm coach Craig Bellamy said a few weeks ago, with a wry smile, the only way to stop Cleary was with a shotgun. He might have only been half joking. What he saw on the opening night of the finals won’t do anything to change his mind.

There’s something mesmerising about the NRL’s most influential player, dancing across the field, with the ball in an outstretched right hand, leaving his rivals in a trance. Do they rush up out of the line and leave a gap for a ballrunner to surge through? Or wait and give Cleary more time, invariably leading him to find the right option anyway? There never seems a sensible way to solve the riddle.

It was one trick, but not the only one. He kicked for the upright, hit it, and the ball dropped at Izack Tago’s toes to score. He passed for his old mate Jarome Luai to dance over. There were long kicks, high kicks which caused Daniel Tupou’s knees to knock, chip kicks, terrifying banana kicks along the ground which always seem to get a result, soccer kicks Our Mary would have been proud of. Even when he mucked up, having a kick charged down by Connor Watson, he scurried back and dragged down the NSW State of Origin star metres out from the line.