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There’s nothing quite like State of Origin for bringing out qualities in Queenslanders that are normally associated with the chronically insane.
Of course, the unhinged everyday behaviour of Queenslanders tends to tip them toward the insane side of the scale already, so you have to make certain allowances for them.
New South Wales understands this. Effectively, they have been ‘making allowances’ for Queensland for some time.
And by ‘some time’ I mean ‘since federation’. They are, according to several million reflective yellow number plates, the premier state, after all.
We live in fast times. Changes are rapid, often to the point of being vertigo-inducing. Certain things, though, can still be relied upon.
Militant veganism will always be annoying. Old people will always keep mints in their cars. A swinging pair of truck-nuts will always tell you everything about the vehicle’s driver you need to know.
And Queenslanders will always make inflammatory remarks in regards to New South Wales come this time of year.
The details of these remarks never matter. (The one exception here is Sam Thaiday’s comment about the buffet being the Maroons’ only source of concern last year, just because of the rich images of footballers doing great damage to bain-marie-based foodstuffs it evoked.)
It doesn’t matter, for example, that a generously proportioned tycoon insulted a rugby league great or that the rugby league great responded in a somewhat sensitive fashion, because basically the only useful point in all of this is that Queenslanders are liable to run their mouths and make arrogant comments and New South Wales folks are liable to take varying degrees of offence.
This is in keeping with the natural order of things, whereby, as it currently stands at least, the Blues are the oppressed and the Maroons are their oppressors.
The roles are interchangeable, at least in theory.
But Blues fans would do well to bear the brutal realities of this ‘natural order of things’ in mind and remember that when it comes to Queenslanders, gross quantities of impure liquor and generations of profound parochialism have rendered them genetically irregular and dangerously inclined to dish out casual insults pertaining to the Blues’ cultural bankruptcy and passionless souls. It’s an ugly thing, but no matter.
We live in ugly times.
Laurie Daley would also do well to remember this. Much has been made of his inherent ‘niceness’ in this Origin lead up. I’m sure he is a very nice man but there is no room for mercy or the milk of human kindness in Origin.
It is the puppy-stomping deviants who will rise to the top, like corks in clear water, or cream in milk. It’s like life, basically.
Daley says he is not nervous, but as a first time Origin coach he must inevitably be operating under conditions of severe personal stress.
When the Blues won Origin II in 2011 and Ricky Stuart delivered that Ryu-style volley of punches into his assistant coach’s ribcage you better believe those punches were powered by about a year’s worth of high-wire tension.
As small explosions of violence go, this one was very moving. It must have been a deeply cathartic moment for Ricky, but one that’s probably best left alone right now, because this is not the kind of talk you want to hear going in to Origin.
It’s not the kind of talk you want to hear anywhere outside the context of a rehab memoir, really.
As for Mal Meninga, well, sit tight. Doubtless something to do with NSW having two home games will inflame his righteous ire and set him off raving about rats and filth and the bugs under his skin.
In other words, early days. There is still time for more slander and insult. There is still time for Daley’s mad seagull eyes to dilate a few more millimetres.
And there is still plenty of time for Meninga to exhibit strange, paranoid behaviour, even though as anyone who has ever crawled around searching for hidden listening devices in the kitty litter – and who among us hasn’t – knows, there is no such thing as paranoia – particularly when it comes to Origin – because IT IS ALL TRUE.
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