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Out of sight, out of mind: Blake Austin and the Canberra Origin issue

14th May, 2015
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Blake Austin will make his return against the Panthers. (Photo: NRL images)
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14th May, 2015
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New South Wales Origin selection question #745: if Blake Austin was playing out his dreamy run of performances in a Roosters or Bulldogs jersey, would the Blues five-eighth position still be up for grabs?

Of course it wouldn’t.

To prove why, here’s a fact. On form, Austin is eons ahead of anything in Laurie Daley’s dysfunctional pack of halves options.

More State of Origin:
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» Pick your own NSW Blues team for Origin 1
» Pick your own Queensland Maroons team for Origin 1

At just the right time, with the state’s plans disfigured and nobody staking a definitive claim, he has pounced as 2015’s patron saint of playmakers and kicked the door down for Game 1.

Look at his energy. Look at his goose-step. Look at his free-spirited Metallica goatee. After a total of 26 points in last year’s series, this try-scoring pistol from Mt Druitt is the scoreboard accelerant the Blues are craving.

His selection should’ve been guaranteed by a Bob Fulton press leak weeks ago. He deserves nothing less, plus that way we could’ve also moved on to discussing more pertinent topics like Paul Gallen’s arse bruise, or even – heaven forbid – Queensland.

In a logical world, he should be the no-brainer, locked-down-and-key-swallowed, thank-your-mother-for-the-rabbits pick at five-eighth. Bugger incumbents, bugger experience and bugger combinations. Just get him in there and work the rest out later.

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But despite a growing groundswell of public and pundit approval, the grapevine tells me his ascension to the rep ranks is just not going to get off the ground for Game 1. And I reckon I can groundlessly speculate as to why.

Unfortunately for Austin, he will miss out because he plays his footy in Canberra.

For whatever reason, when the New South Wales brains trust sits down with a large meatlovers to thrash out a squad each year, the Nation’s Capital seems to be somewhat out of sight, out of mind – and I fear Austin may be the latest victim of this sickening blindness.

Ply your trade in close proximity to Phillip Street in the scope of the big smoke’s agenda-guided media hounds, and you will always have an advantage over any out-of-towners. In a halved contest for any position, the light of the Sydney spotlight will usually see you home. In form like Austin’s, you could be captain-coach.

The effects of this inherent pro-Sydney principle is felt most acutely about 280 kilometres down the Hume Highway. It’s where the Bermuda Triangle of rep-selection exists, a gaping chasm that has effectively excised the Australian Capital Territory from New South Wales.

For those disbelievers, Google Map it, or even just visit – you’ll see there’s nothing there.

Many plucky Canberrans have fought against it. Most have lost. Ultimately, all have learned this lesson: to trump a safe option playing for Manly or Souths at Origin time, you need to be picking up Rothmans Medal points like a lime green Dally Messenger.

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Such constant neglect has blighted the Raiders since inception. Sick of watching on as the NSWRL scoured no further than Camden for nearly a decade, the club was forced to go back-to-back in the early ’90s just to get their emerging galaxy of stars noticed.

But since this era of glory, despite a few infrequent returns to pick among some veterans and the odd pissed prodigy, it’s been the destitute days of old. But why?

Sure, back in the days when technology was limited, the world didn’t see a weekend highlight from Seiffert Oval until the mailed VHS arrived the following Thursday. The tyranny of distance from a freezing outpost was a semi-believable excuse to overlook an eskimo to play hooker in your side.

But in these booming techy times of Foxtel, IQ, radio, newspaper, YouTube, word of mouth and smoke signals, nobody is missing a thing. Yet still as the years roll by, many of the Raiders’ finest continue to be treated like rep-level lepers.

Sure, blokes like Terry Campese and Ryan O’Hara were some of the lucky few who made it through the force-field to crack it for a jersey – albeit one each – but what about a bloke like Alan Tongue, a tailor-made Origin utility with proficiency in more positions than Sting in his tantric phase?

Who could forget the unfashionable Luke Davico, the spiritual lead of a high-flying 2003 Raiders pack who drummed up a load of Origin speculation, only to be given an insulting Country jersey and the old ‘don’t call us, we’ll call you’?

Then there was Michael Weyman, widely touted as Origin-wired but repeatedly overlooked in his Canberra days before being offensively offered a debut the first year he left the club for the Dragons. Blatant prejudice.

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Should we also mention 2008 Dally M Winger of the Year Colin Best in a 40-man train-on squad? The disgusting treatment of Shaun Fensom by various bodies in the state system? Or should we just add salt by mentioning the bevy of great Queensland success stories coming out of the joint?

If any of these great New South Welshmen were producing this form about three hours up the road, their Origin careers could’ve been lucrative, memorable and legendary. Instead, they are haunted by unfulfilled dreams and a wardrobe of Country memories and squad tracksuits, the kind that can be freely sourced on eBay.

Will this be the tale that befalls Austin?

Someone tell me it isn’t so.

To take down a hungry Queensland this year, the Blues need to look outside the square. Let’s pray they look past Camden.

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