Then I saw his face, now I'm a believer
I know, I know, I know. Honestly, I do!
The morning after Leeds won at Leigh earlier this month, I was walking down the street when the pavement started trembling. I gazed into sudden darkness as a mountainous figure eclipsing the sun was moving towards me. As it got closer, I strained my neck upwards and recognised the face of the Rhinos forward Keenan Palasia, looking back at me in equal parts indifference and intimidation.
Palasia is a big boy, sure. But when viewed from the terraces he doesn’t exactly stand out as freakishly large compared to the 25 other blokes sharing a pitch with him. Bumping into him — thankfully not literally — in the context of real life was a stark reminder that rugby league players are obnoxiously primed athletes; not just physically, but mentally — how else could you make a living smashing into other similar brutes without being stupidly brave? As I squeezed past Palasia on what little space was left of the pavement I averted my gaze back to the floor and walked into Greggs feeling utterly inadequate.
A week later I was standing on the away terrace at Wheldon Road ahead of kick off between Leeds and Castleford, drinking a lukewarm bottle of Carling. The queues for a proper pint were too long, which started to make sense after we made our way to a shack of a bottle bar, asked if they were cold, and the lad serving replied with wonderful non-committal: “They’re as cold as the fridge.”
In front of us the Leeds players were warming up, with the forwards wrestling in groups of threes. Alongside Palasia and the even wider Sam Lisone was the new kid on the block, Presley Cassell. At that point, Cassell had made three substitute appearances for the first team and was preparing to make his first start. He’s eighteen years old. Next to Palasia and Lisone he looked... like he completely belonged battling with Leeds’ biggest big boys.
I didn’t know too much about Cassell before the start of this season other than Leeds had extremely high hopes for the young loose-forward. That in itself wasn’t particularly noteworthy. Leeds always have a crop of young players they’re excited about, never too far away from anointing them the new Golden Generation. They never are, never will be, and it never helps. The embryonic hype for Cassell was well-founded, though. In 2023, he was the club’s Scholarship Player of the Year. In 2024, he was the club’s Academy Player of the Year. And after five senior appearances in 2025, well, I’m sorry to say he’s already convinced me he’s The One.
I know, I know, I know. Honestly, I do! You’re not meant to get carried away with young players after only a handful of games and an uncertain future sprawling in front of them in which the only guarantees somewhere along the way are injuries and patches of poor form that throw up even more unknowns in how they will respond. Stevie Ward was the next Kevin Sinfield. Jack Walker was the youngest Grand Final winner. Corey Johnson was Leeds’ number nine for the next decade. And then in the blink of an eye life at Leeds was moving on without them.
But there’s something about Cassell that already feels inevitable. Talent is one thing. Maturity is another. More than anything, Cassell possesses a presence. It could be felt from the back of the away end at Castleford and was pulsating around Headingley last week as he was at the heart of the Rhinos dismantling Hull KR, their most impressive performance since Stevie Ward and Jack Walker were beating Cas in the 2017 Grand Final.
Cassell scored his second try in as many weeks in the first half against the league leaders and Challenge Cup holders, celebrating without youthful abandon but pure ‘yes, and what?’ self-assurance in front of the away end. He wasn’t perfect. From the restart he knocked on and was soon replaced, returning to the bench to a word from Brad Athur, who has spent the last twelve months at Leeds reminding players not to get ahead of themselves. Come the second half he was back on the pitch and breaking through the best defence in the league with the type of late footwork that coaches cannot teach; it just comes programmed into the fibres of the most naturally gifted rugby league players.
The scary thing is Cassell hasn’t even been playing in his natural position. With Mik Oledzki, Tom Holroyd and Cooper Jenkins injured, he’s been tasked with providing the grunt of a prop. Once again, he hasn’t looked an inch out of place. In only his second appearance for Leeds, off the bench in the narrow defeat at Wakefield, Arthur forgot that Cassell was still on the pitch, not due to a lack of impact but because the teenage rookie was playing like a seasoned pro. With the game on the line and five minutes to go, Lisone went off after a ten minute stint that featured two breaks for tries because Arthur felt able to trust Cassell more.
In tempering the expectations around Cassell, Arthur has been eager to praise the forwards around him, none more so than Palasia, who was brilliantly uncompromising in bullying Hull KR’s pack at Headingley when Leeds would have crumbled in previous seasons without Oledzki. Likewise, Cassell has the perfect role model to follow after the mid-season return of Kallum Watkins, who has overcome the most brutal of challenges both rugby league and life itself can throw at a person and somehow found a way to come back stronger every time. “I’ll let him pick the team next week,” Arthur said of his Rolls Royce Watkins after the win over the Rovers. “I’ve said to Bleasey (sporting director Ian Blease), he’ll be the best signing he’s ever made.”
Add those positives to the news that Arthur is staying around for at least another season and the upcoming returns of Oledzki, Holroyd and Jenkins and it’s easy to understand why Leeds fans might be getting carried away as we head towards the Super League play-offs. Nothing is as exciting as the promise of the future. Particularly when it’s a future that might belong to Presley Cassell. ⬧
