In the fiercely competitive world of rugby league, few stories encapsulate the tension between loyalty and opportunity quite like that of Terrell May. Once a rising talent in Penrith’s under-20s side, May found himself at a crossroads—one that would ultimately cost him his spot with the Panthers.
The trouble began when May was dropped from the Panthers’ junior squad and sent to St Marys, a feeder team used to help underperforming players find form and fight their way back into contention. It was meant to be a wake-up call—a standard disciplinary move designed to instill accountability and spark improvement. But for May, the situation was far more complicated.
A proud junior of the Minchinbury Jets, St Marys’ traditional rivals, May’s allegiances ran deep. The prospect of pulling on the jersey of a rival club—especially one just down the road from his childhood stomping grounds—was not something he could accept lightly. Instead of toeing the line and suiting up for St Marys as instructed, May chose to stand by his roots. That decision, while admirable to some, sealed his fate at Penrith.
Sources close to the situation suggest that May’s refusal to play for St Marys wasn’t a matter of ego or defiance but a matter of principle. Loyalty to one’s junior club is an ethos that runs strong in grassroots rugby league, and for players like May, it’s more than just a sentiment—it’s an identity. However, in the professional system, sentimentality often takes a back seat to structure and discipline.
In an environment where commitment to the team is paramount, Penrith saw May’s decision as a challenge to their authority and system. And just like that, his time with the Panthers came to an abrupt end.
What followed was not a career collapse but a re-routing. May, driven by the same principles that cost him his place at Penrith, continued to work on his game and find his own way back into elite competition. His journey serves as a reminder of the sacrifices that come with integrity and the fine line players must walk between personal conviction and professional expectations.
For Terrell May, the decision to stand firm may have come at a cost—but it also showed the kind of character that doesn’t go unnoticed for long in rugby league circles. As many who know the game would agree, talent can get you noticed, but character defines your career. And in the long run, it might be May’s unwavering loyalty that writes the next, more triumphant chapter of his story.
