Nobody draws the Port Moresby Vipers and feels comfortable about it.
Not because of reputation.
Because of style.
The Vipers don’t play Nines the way most teams do. They don’t wait for structure to settle or tempo to reveal itself. They come fast, loud, and confrontational, turning every game into something slightly unpredictable. One set can look scrappy. The next can rip straight through you.
That’s the danger.
Jeremiah Lotipa sets the tone in the middle, relentless and physical, happy to drag the contest into places other teams would rather avoid. Jameel Labi brings footwork and confidence that doesn’t ask permission, the kind of runner who can change momentum in a single carry. Out wide, Benjamin Tonny and Leon Undupia give them genuine strikeand add energy that never seems to dip, no matter how long the weekend gets.
They are built on belief as much as game plan.
Off the field, the Vipers are one of the most professionally run outfits in the competition. On the field, they still live on the edge. That tension is what makes them an X-factor team. When it works, they look capable of beating anyone. When it doesn’t, they give opponents just enough control to survive them.
That’s the question hanging over this group.
The Vipers have shown promise before. They’ve shown they can hang with professional-heavy squads. They’ve shown grit, defensive resilience, and moments of real quality. What they haven’t done yet is turn that into a Sunday run that matches their talent.
If the Vipers can convert energy into execution, and belief into composure, they stop being the team nobody wants to play and start becoming the team nobody wants to face late.
And in this format, that’s a very different thing.
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