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PRENTICE: Our sporting risk-takers are copping serious flak for no reason

10th November, 2015
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Sam Burgess during his brief stint in rugby union. (AP Photo/Alastair Grant)
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10th November, 2015
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How could anyone even contemplate branding the likes of Sam Burgess, Jarryd Hayne or Israel Folau, as ‘losers’ or ‘quitters’ after the enormous gambles they took to expand their fabulous sporting careers?

There was a large family function at my place last Sunday and around the barbecue the conversation struck up about Burgess and his ‘failed’ attempt at rugby union.

The guy with the BBQ tongs – me – went straight onto the offensive and sprayed anyone who came within earshot (and tong-shot!) about Burgess and others who dared switch codes and ply their trades outside the square.

The anti-Burgess reaction has staggered and even angered me.

This guy left rugby league as a premiership winner with Souths. Furthermore, he departed as the best grand final winner one can be, with the Clive Churchill Medal dangling around his neck, along with a hangover that accompanied South Sydney’s drought-breaking win.

He, of course, went off to play rugby union with Bath with the ultimate goal of being selected to play for England at the Rugby World Cup.

He pretty much ticked all of those boxes. He made his mark in the prelims, got picked for the Poms ahead of many other contenders, and played – of all positions – centre in the code’s showcase event.

He did not pick or choose where he played, the England selectors did that, and he played okay. But some glaring errors were seized upon by drooling critics.

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Why didn’t those critics mention the fact he played his early rugby games for Bath at No. 6? Why would they choose him to play in the No. 12 jumper?

Was Burgess the reason for the host nation’s downfall? Nup. But he was the easiest scapegoat available when the team crashed and burned – miserably. And didn’t they burn him at the stake. Disgraceful.

Burgess ended up an out-and-out winner, and hats off to him. He made the Poms’ World Cup team. Wrong position, mind you, but I’m not one of their dumbbell, no-idea selectors.

(Have a look at Burgess’ column in The Daily Mail, it is a worthwhile read.)

Then there have been the naysayers pretty much salivating over Hayne’s on-off relationship with the San Francisco 49ers.

He defied phenomenal odds to make their initial roster, and has done some very good things in his limited on-field time.

He’s another big winner. If it doesn’t work out in the long run for Hayne, so be it. He backed himself, followed his lifelong dream, and has seen that dream materialise in the light of day.

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Box. Tick.

Izzy Folau? Few elite sportsmen or women, anywhere in the world, have left their comfort zones like Folau, who was at the top of the rugby league tree when he switched to AFL. He had to learn a batch of unfamiliar rules, change his body shape, and fit in with a squad of complete strangers. No mean feat.

He played AFL footy, and kicked a goal or two for the Greater Western Sydney Giants in the code’s elite comp against its megastars. Folau proved nothing remarkable in a completely alien code, but he realised his ambition.

Folau then channelled his vast array of skills into rugby union and for those out there super-quick to criticise his contribution to the Wallabies’ cause in the Rugby World Cup, I strongly suggest you do some homework on his injury.

Mere mortals would not even contemplate playing hobbled as he was.

The fullback played hurt. Seriously hurt. And I reckon he’ll be hurting for many, many weeks to come.

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