And so the State of Origin super-circus heads again to Sydney’s Olympic Thunderdome, ANZ Stadium, the giant fat chunk of concrete mega-fauna that sits glowing in the geographical heart of Sydney.
And dead rubber or not – and a decade of Queensland dominance or not – the joint will heave. Because State of Origin rugby league is 36 years of hype in the making. It’s peak hype. It’s a whale, Origin.
How many will they get? Maybe 65,000? Maybe 80,000 at best?
It almost doesn’t matter. Apart from the look and sound of a full house on television – throb, stadium, throb – how many folks actually attend the fixture is a fair way down the list of Origin’s markers for “success”. The main one, and by a goodly margin, is television numbers. Ratings. And by that measure, Origin is the leviathan of Australian sport.
According to OzTAM – the independent television audience measurement company jointly owned by Nine, Seven and Ten – three of the top five programs in 2015 were State of Origin rugby league matches (the NRL and AFL grand finals were the others). Game one of this year was the most-watched Origin match of all time. Origin beats all news, cooking shows, episode six from series three of Peaky Blinders. Origin is money.
For if you own the broadcasting rights to State of Origin, you can charge the banks and car makers and household appliance companies premium coin. Corporate bookies love rugby league so much they’ve bought into editorial. That is not cheap. It’s why Nine, News Ltd and Telstra forked out $1.8 billion to rugby league and why they expect their pound of flesh in return. It’s why the blessed game doesn’t start until 8:18pm.
And it’s so strong an argument that it trumps all arguments.
Yet for six rounds a year – if you count the three matches players miss pre-Origin and the three matches some are expected to back up for – Origin eats the NRL.
It effectively penalises those clubs which produce the best players. But unlike City-Country or even Test matches that coaches so blithely withdraw their players from, in Origin’s case, clubs cop it.
Even if the result, as in this match, has no bearing on who’ll win the series, clubs won’t ask a player to brush the rep match to sort out a “niggle”. Clubs mightn’t like the effect the super-series has on their place in the competition that supplies its players, but they wear it. They know the numbers. If a player is an “Origin player” it ups his market value. (Plus he’s paid $30k).
Some argue that in the event of a dead rubber, players should be available to their clubs in the round before game three. But the big-wigs won’t cop that. Nor will the Origin coaches. Because it would be detrimental to Origin.
It would suggest that Origin, even a dead rubber, would be second-fiddle to the NRL. It would nibble at Origin’s premier status. And you don’t want that perception. You don’t take a bite at the killer whale.
And anyway, would North Queensland’s Johnathan Thurston, Matt Scott and company want to play against the Raiders in Canberra 48 hours before game three, on a Monday night in July?
Who would want that? Player welfare would be discussed. But ultimately it would come down to holding true to the Origin spigot. The spigot is king.
Various ideas have been thrown up about halting the premiership across a six-week “Origin” period. It’s been mooted that Origin could be played every second Wednesday night, with a separate round robin competition among NRL clubs, and the likes of PNG and France. And there’s been some interesting things tossed up.
But none of them has come backed by money. And nothing’s been seriously explored.
They wouldn’t cop any of this in the country that just about invented playing sport for money. In the United States they don’t understand ties and draws much less playing a match that has no bearing on a best-of series result.
There’s potentially seven games in the World Series of baseball and NBA finals. But once a team’s won four, that’s it. Anything that follows would be an exhibition. Pointless. They don’t do dead rubbers.
And the idea of plucking the competition’s best players from the competition in the middle of that competition, the clubs and leagues would never countenance it. In baseball, basketball, American football, the National Hockey League, their competition is the money. They have “All Stars” rep matches that are a joke. No-one even tries.
But here in Australia, bless us and all who sail in us, by dint of historical, geographical and cultural factors, professional rugby league has come to a point in which the premier rugby league competition plays second fiddle to a beast within its belly.
And here we are. Copping it sweet.
Yet it is still pretty sweet. For all that said, tonight’s match features plenty of tasty sports morsels. It’s Paul Gallen’s last game, for one. The warrior forward – criticised essentially for being one of the common denominators in NSW’s 10 losing series – will play his last game of bash-n-barge super-lung power-forward action with occasional forays into five-eighth.
The supporter group “Blatchy’s Blues” – like “The Fanatics” but less organised and lots less annoying – will be exhorted to turn out in big numbers and “Do it for Gal”. There’s a promotion in which blue-bewigged Blatchy boys can bring a mate for 30 bucks.
Yet I’m not sure Gallen inspires that sort of adoration. Respect, for sure. But love? Would punters do it for Gal? Lot of Blues fans – and it’s not like I’ve done a poll – will be just as well shot of him. Could be wrong. Don’t think I am.
Meanwhile the rest of the Blues have been picked without the input of another man considered a common theme in the Blues’ decade of defeat – Bob Fulton.
“Bozo” has been under fire – admittedly from the internet, where one would surmise Bozo doesn’t spend a lot of time – for advising on selection of teams that couldn’t beat the greatest one there’s ever been.
There’s perception that Fulton favours Manly players, such as Jamie Buhrer and Dylan Walker. And if you, internet person, can prove it as fact, the forum is open below. Knock yourself out. But there’s little else Fulton could’ve done.
Either way, Laurie Daley will trot out a tidy side without being the reincarnation of those ’82 Kangaroos known as “The Invincibles”. Interesting to see how Matt Moylan goes in the halves, and how the über-confident Sharks pivot Jack Bird does off the bench.
Wade Graham has carved up the comp for the Sharks, but will be among the sharks here. And James Tedesco, he of the fastest-twitching feet in the land, how will his high voltage game fare against this hard-eyed Maroon machine of death?
For these Queensland Maroons have a side that rivals and probably betters the very best there’s ever been. Think ’82 and ’86 Kangaroos, Queensland Origin side of ’89, Canberra Raiders of ’88 to ’94, Broncos of ’92 and ’93. Better than all them.
Better than ’74-’75 Roosters, better than Dragons of that fabled 11-year itch. This Queensland team is what a dynasty looks like. This is what a team without salary cap looks like. And they don’t do dead rubbers, either.
