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It’s a cliché that flows liberally from the lips and typewriters of sporting pundits – “Better to retire a year too early than a year too late.” It’s also a theory that’s much easier to espouse than to action.
I had my own penny-drop moment over the weekend, on a festival field as opposed to a sporting one.
It was my eighth Splendour in the Grass festival, and the 90th multi-stage musical event I’ve attended in some capacity or another over the past 20 years. Yes, I’ve kept a running tally. Yes, I need a new hobby.
The festival was a raging success on every conceivable level – logistically, artistically, and no doubt commercially for those involved. Yet as I wandered through the vast North Byron Parklands site, bombarded with uber-hip hype acts and cultural stimuli at every turn, I finally accepted that whatever fire inside me once burned brightest at mainstream music festivals had finally lost its spark.
Seeing Spiderbait struggle to recapture past glories in a turgid main-stage set was strangely poignant. No matter how untouchable you once felt, no matter how hard you deny it, eventually all things must pass.
And so it is with professional sporting careers. For athletes whose entire lives have revolved around that 80-odd minutes every weekend when they transcend the realms of us mere mortals, knowing you’re done before you receive the dreaded tap on the shoulder can’t be easy.
Especially when there are sizeable six-figure salaries at stake, and the small matter of what to do with the rest of your life to contend with.
Take Canberra Raiders skipper Terry Campese, for example. In 2008 and 2010, plus patches of 2009, the guy ducked and weaved his way through opposition defences with such ease that he made semi-regular first graders such as teammate David Milne look like guns.
A few years and as many knee constructions later, Campo has lost his swagger. The running game has been benched, the kicking duties are being shared with a halfback who should never, ever kick in general play, and the vision to put teammates through gaps only sporadically appears.
When that vision appeared against the South Sydney Rabbitohs on Monday night, winger Sami Sauiluma strode through the biggest hole in Canberra this side of the Federal Budget deficit. On the flipside of that, Campese’s yardage stats were a less than impressive one run for two metres.
It’s numbers like this that have had Raiders fans and rugby league pundits, including Steve Turner on this very website, suggesting Campese find himself a nice paddock to graze away his days in since the early rounds of season 2014.
The problem for Canberra fans is that the Raiders’ few wins this year have coincided with Campese hinting at the form of his brief golden era. And even in the games that he’s failed to light up, it’s clear that the fire in his eyes isn’t out.
Terry Campese isn’t the only player in the NRL raging against the dying light – he’s not even the only one at the Canberra Raiders. And I’m part of a rapidly dwindling group of disciples who still think he’s got something to offer his team.
But sometime soon, he’ll accept that the highs of 2008-2010 are gone forever. When he does, I only hope he’s better prepared to fill his footballing void in retirement than I am to fill my festival one.
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