“People actually find me interesting. It’s weird.”
Terrell May is half right. Interest in the rat-tailed, 108-kilogram Wests Tigers recruit who “raw dogs” marathons in his spare time and can’t help speak his mind, is all too real.
His unceremonious, mysterious to the point of scurrilous, exit from the Roosters put one of the game’s more intriguing characters under an unwanted spotlight.
In a sport of buttoned-down cliches, choreographed media access and almost any comment outside this being seized by opposition, pundits and punters, you wonder if May might take a step back.
One of 2024’s most candid interviews – when May told this masthead of his complicated relationship with the game and that “Sometimes I just get, ‘I don’t want to be there and don’t want to play’” – was, after all, twisted by some into the catalyst for the Roosters moving him on six months after doubling his salary in a two-year extension.
“No, I’m not going to change that. I don’t care about other people’s opinions,” May says.
“I might sound like a gronk, but I’ll always just worry about the people that are close to me – their opinion, and the opinion I have of myself.
“I’ve always wanted to be real. The worst thing for me would be if I was fake. I hate when someone puts a fake persona on. I want to be true to myself, no matter if people like it or not. People see fake, and people can tell if you’re being real.
“And before I was an NRL player, no one had a say in my life. Now that I’ve played NRL, what, people can have a say? Their opinion is up to them, but it doesn’t really matter to me.”
May can understand the reluctance of players to reveal their deepest thoughts to the world.
He’s 25 and after joining the Tigers on a three-year deal worth around $2 million, is preparing for just the third full NRL campaign of his career.
Before a breakout 2024 campaign and dramatic off-season, May walked away from rugby league twice, battling for motivation while on a train-and-trial deal with the Tigers four years ago.
Comparisons to his brothers Tyrone and Taylan – both no longer in the NRL due to serious and well-documented off-field issues – are loathed by the middle sibling.
Overwhelmingly, May’s family is why he plays the game, though his last name has made him a target as well.
“I think people go into their shell with criticism, and that’s pretty easy to do, you can understand it,” May says.
“When I came into the game, people hated me for my last name before I had even debuted.
“I feel like I’m used to it. If you want to hate me, hate me. I can’t change that, but I’d bet those people don’t know who I am either, or know what I do day-in, day-out.”
May returns to the Tigers as one of the NRL’s most promising young props, but sees himself as the “same guy, just nowhere near as shy” as the 20-year-old who called it quits during the first COVID-19 lockdown.
Coach Benji Marshall, who took May under his wing during his last season playing at Concord, “is still the same, good person, still a family man.
‘If you want to hate me, hate me’
Terrell May
“Meeting him to talk through the contract again, it felt just like five years ago when he’d look after me. It’d be so wrong for me to come here and kick rocks. I’m here to show Benji and the club that I’m all in, I’m here to win.”
And by his admission, what May does day-in, day-out can get a bit weird too.
Wests Tigers medical staff didn’t believe May when he told them before Christmas that he was planning to run a marathon to keep fit over the holiday break.
Especially considering May “just went and raw dogged it, I didn’t do any prep for it and that’s what stuffed me.”
With no long-distance training and carrying the post-Christmas extra ham and gravy on a front-rower’s frame, May trotted 10 kilometres from his Mount Druitt home to Werrington Park, then trudged through another 32 with mate Paul Blake.
Chiefly because he had already told the world that he would on James Graham’s The Bye Round podcast.
“I was running at a 7:40 (minutes per kilometre) pace, which is not the best pace but I couldn’t feel my legs after 10 kms,” May says.
“I said I was going to do it, so I figured I had to go and do it. Pretty early on I’m thinking ‘what the hell am I doing this for?’ and as soon as it finished I couldn’t walk and the next day I was broken, and the day after that I was even worse.
“I trained two days after but my legs were just gone. But 42 kilometres is 42 kilometres”.
May documented the whole undertaking on his YouTube, Instagram and TikTok pages and has started a rolling video diary featuring everything from his first day at Tigers training to kebab reviews, while he has been streaming his online gaming for years.
“There’s a massive negative side to social media, I still cop my trolls and my abuse, but what do you do?” he says.
“Everyone does and I can’t waste my time or career on a troll. Obviously, there’s days when you want to say something back to someone who’s abusing you, and I have said stuff back, but really, it all means nothing doesn’t it?
“But the other side of social media I think is quite cool. There’s a little community around my gaming and now the other stuff too.
“There’s people who come week-in, week-out, they’ll watch me game or watch my blogs and we’ll talk. It’s something different but like I said I still think it’s weird people find me interesting.
“I guess people like the raw side of things.”