Origin victory never tasted so good
STATE of Origin; magic!
There we were, last Wednesday. I suspect seven far from typical Rugby League watchers, eating fish and chips in my television-watching lounge room.
We gave almost all our all for 17 absurdly fit Queensland blokes with no fear for their own safety, smashing the living daylights out of seventeen New South Wales no-hopers who dared to think they could win the decider.
They were no chance once our lovely boys got their minds and bodies on the job.
Over 52,000 Suncorpers had not given up the better part of a year’s pocket money to be able to afford the admission price just to watch their lovely boys get hammered by the hideous NSWelshies. No way! This was the Big One.
The first match of the series had been a reluctant cock-up; the second was a taste of things to come but this was the one that mattered!
Our lovely boys actually wanted to win. The hideous NSWelshies didn’t know how to, when push came to shove.
Reading the reactions of sportswriters the next day, Blues legend Andrew Johns summed it up; “NSW just doesn’t get it. Queensland does. Simple!”
As he pointed out “It” refers to the intangibles that separate Origin contenders (Qld) from Origin pretenders (NSW).
I like that! 21 Full Series wins to Queensland, 13 to NSW with 2 Series drawn.
That’s how it’s all played out in front of my various friends and rellies! They were a mixed bunch of fish-lovers, almost willing to risk the humiliation of watching our lovely boys get beaten as long as the fish was well-cooked and battered.
It normally is at my place. My wife comes from near the centre of battered fish country, not far from Whitby on England’s North East coast.
I apologise for writing about it yet again but it and she are really quite special, not least when there is State of Origin on the tellie.
There, in addition to her and her somewhat chip-greased husband, we had five blatantly fish-crazed Maroons supporters sharing with us.
One was the delightful daughter of two of the others who later admitted she personally couldn’t give a rat’s about rugby league. All she wanted was a share of the barramundi and a relatively early night.
She’s a Uni student living in Brisbane, surviving on college food and a moderate thirst for knowledge. Her Mum and Dad were two of the other guests.
Mum works in a local school and, time and again, demonstrated a remarkable depth of understanding of Origin football that made commentators like Gus Whatsisname and Rabbits Whats the other one called sound like right amateurs.
Dad is a distinguished vet. He probably spends huge amounts of time with part of his hands not far from animals’ fundamental orifices.
They are our great friends and I have no doubt that her Dad washes his hands fairly frequently. The other two spectators were my daughter and a friend, up from Melbourne.
Both are highly experienced professionals but, probably like many Melbourne ladies, know relatively little about State of Origin football.
They spend a lifetime pretending to understand AFL and netball. A serious sports priority adjustment may be necessary before again pulling on a proper maroon jersey.
My daughter has always known a lot about sport. She had a history of reporting sport and other things for the Gold Coast Bulletin before going south as the Bulletin went west.
Several years spent with her, watching the Gold Coast Rollers playing basketball, was always a reality check, difficult to explain to my friends.
They never realised people could afford to grow that tall so close to the ocean. We had a great night, all much better for the batter and a brilliant Origin victory!
Our lovely boys actually wanted to win. The hideous NSWelshies didn’t know how to, when push came to shove.