Hindy homage: A tribute to Nathan Hindmarsh

Legend is a term that gets bandied about quite a bit, often necessarily, in professional sport.

It’s a label given to players that are hugely successful, that inspire, that delight fans with their effort on the field and that supporters can understand and relate to. Nathan William Hindmarsh has done all of that and more, and is rightly considered by many as a legend of rugby league.

The Parramatta Eels back-rower will play his final NRL match this Sunday against St George Illawarra and officials are expecting a bumper crowd to send him, and three other retiring players, off.

Hindmarsh deserves it.

There are few players like ‘Hindy’ left in the game today, who personify the origins and values of rugby league. I’m talking about toughness, dedication, hard work, integrity and honesty.

The Robertson-product is an icon of the game and a throwback to the days of old. He doesn’t mince words, he wears his heart on his sleeve and is committed to his club and his teammates.

Hindmarsh’s autobiography is titled ‘Old School’ – it’s an apt title.

At times in the NRL today, he seems more suited to another footy era, the daysvbefore Twitter, intensive media coverage and huge salaries. The days of the John Sattlers and John O’Neills.

While the book might not be the greatest league book ever, it does give some interesting insights into the character and background of this 330 NRL-game veteran. It contains some refreshing honesty. For example, it takes guts to not only admit to but also talk about a serious gambling problem.

Hindmarsh was a late-comer to league, playing soccer in his formative years, and grew up with three siblings and an alcoholic father. His brother Ian would go on to have a good NRL career, with the Eels and Raiders, but Nathan was discovered by accident.

A scout had come to see now-Souths prop Scott Geddes but was blown over by Hindmarsh, who was in Year 10, and signed him up for Patrician Brothers’ College Fairfield. Hindmarsh only lasted a month at the school, with homesickness affecting him he returned home.

However, he then received an offer to trial for the Parramatta SG Ball fan. Hindmarsh, a Bulldogs fan growing up, became an Eel largely by chance.

But it turned out to be a fitting match. The second-rower broke into first-grade in 1998, the first of the rejoined ARL and Super League comps, and has not looked back. Hindmarsh has become an institution at Parramatta, the no-nonsense leader of the team’s pack, and a standout forward in the competition.

A modest character, he has done this through sheer hard work and resolve, with a heart that puts most to shame. The 32-year old has also been a strong trainer who always gives his best, and has battled many injuries, but who has also adapted as his career progressed.

In ‘Old School’, Hindmarsh speaks highly of former coach Brian Smith, and gives the current Roosters coach a lot of credit. He is less kind when it comes to the Melbourne Storm – “The Storm have terrible grapple tactics. They choke you, get your arm and turn it into what they call the chicken wing – twisting your arm in a weird position behind your back. The Storm were the first team to start employing a wrestling coach to try to slow down the play down and work the body position”.

But, perhaps surprisingly, he doesn’t hold the 2009 grand final against the Storm in terms of their cap rorting.

“They know they won the grand final and the premiership: it’s just not written on the trophy any more, that’s all. And who’s to say they wouldn’t have won anyway? Winning the premiership on a legal technicality would be just an empty feeling…. I never thought of Melbourne a being cheaters; I’ve never hated them.”

Hindmarsh also gives his views on the reign of Michael Hagan. He didn’t wanted Smith to go but, once Smith had, he wanted Jason Taylor as coach.

“Hages was more relaxed than Brian or JT, very cruisy, ‘one of the boys’. I loved that type of freedom; I knew how to focus and get down to hard training when I needed to. However, there were a few people who took advantage of Hage’s relaxed demeanour and it got out of control.”

Hindmarsh also reveals his own fears when he played the game, his Origin experiences and his thoughts on today’s player salaries and the changing nature of the NRL.

In many ways he reminds me of former Manly star Steve ‘Beaver’ Menzies. Beaver was a skinny forward, with a centre’s build, when he started in the mid 1990s, who had amazing pace and made a name for himself running off the brilliant Cliffy Lyons. Menzies scored tries by the hatful and was an amazing support player.

But with Lyons retirement, and as he got older, Menzies evolved. He became a workhorse, a resolute defender, a leader, but also someone who could break the line and attack when needed.

The ageless Menzies and Hindmarsh are different players, of course, but there are similarities in how the games of both evolved over time. In the beginning, Hindmarsh was an edge of the ruck player, an attacking ball-runner with decent leg speed.

He would later become the workhorse’s pin-up boy – a tackling machine who put his body on the line and gave what seemed at the time superhuman efforts. He would run and tackle all day. With the advancing years, his attacking threat declined as he focused on more of a front-rower’s type role for the good of the team.

Like Menzies, Hindmarsh reached NSW and Australian representation. He excelled in the arenas of State of Origin and Test footy. He was liked and respected by all league fans, not just his own club’s. He appeared humble and decent. But unlike the headgeared-one, he never tasted success in a grand final.

Despite playing in two – in 2001 and 2009 – and reaching the finals many times in his 15 years in the game, Hindmarsh will bow out without a grand final win to his name. It’s a shame but shouldn’t be seen as a stain on what has been a proud and remarkable career.

Apart from the modest and down-to-earth nature, part of Hindmarsh’s appeal comes from his ordinariness, which I mean with all respect. He doesn’t have the magic feet or hands of a Benji or Thurston, but Hindy is the one you want in the trenches with you. He is the one you would want to have a beer with.

My best Hindmarsh memory – and no, I’m not a Parra fan – is watching the Eels play the Knights in Newcastle in 2009. It was mid-way through the season, before they caught fire, and it was a close match. Kurt Gidley made a break and ran 30, 40, 50 metres. Just as he neared the tryline, and looking for a support runner, in snuck the country boy with a try-saving tackle. Hindmarsh had not given up the chase, had scrambled as hard as he could and had stopped the much quicker opponent at exactly the right time. It was a symbol of the kind of player he is.

It wasn’t flashy or brilliant, but it was a match-saving moment. Parramatta went on to win that game.

Hindmarsh is one of the last of the Super League era, an NRL star whose retirement signals a changing of the guard. Forget the arse-crack jokes and the Beatles hair, the silly appearances on The Footy Show and the wooden-spoon drama, Nathan Hindmarsh was much more than that. He was one of a kind and let’s hope he’s not lost to the game for good.

Well played Hindy, and enjoy your retirement.

Follow John on Twitter @johnnyddavidson