Flair versus fatigue: What really wins the game?

Watching Nathan Ross score that amazing try for the Knights against the Dragons on the weekend made me feel a couple of things.

Firstly, I felt relief that the nonsensical rule about the touching of a corner post deeming a player to be out of play was scrapped a few years back.

Once again it has been shown to be a great decision that allows for such acrobatic acts of athleticism.

Secondly, I thought about the tough unheralded work in the previous minutes that often leads to tries such as Ross’.

I didn’t watch the entire match due to the value I place on my time and the Knights not being too high on my list of priorities at the moment, so I can’t be sure exactly what led to the try.

However, quite often, the ground work laid by less athletic and less crowd-pleasing men is forgotten as cameras click and commentators scream at such a try.

The headlines we read are attention grabbing and players’ reputations and perceptions of them, are enhanced by the spectacular deeds that outside backs and halves are able to perform on a weekly basis.

As a modern audience, we seem enthralled by glitz, glamour and the showtime demands of a highly competitive winter sporting market.

Are we starting to show a lack of appreciation of some of the more base and fundamental skills of our great game and in turn, is this a good thing?

Side steps and a clean break by a flying winger are great yet is the love of a forty tackle game or a perfect defensive performance around the ruck given the merit it deserves. Should we love it?

Unfortunately, the toiling workhorses don’t create the same headlines and perhaps remain anonymous in the minds of many fans. The talk of laying platforms and building a base has been the mantra of many coaches and players pre and post-game.

Despite the talk, the accolades still more often than not fall to those who score the points, make the breaks and perform the spectacular.

In no way do I intend to discredit the human highlight reels that our game possesses. Watching Semi Radradra, James Tedesco or Billy Slater in full flight is something to behold.

However, I was more interested in those players who tirelessly create moments and opportunities that ultimately lead to someone else grabbing a headline.

The New South Wales Origin Team appears to me to be a team where there are far too many ‘stars’ and headline grabbers and a team that lacks the grunt and toil that ultimately, as unfashionable as it might be, leads to success.

A balance between the flair and fatigue might be the best way to sum up the dichotomy.

A perfect example is the New South Wales front row for Origins one and two. While huge in stature, armed with huff and puff and reputations to match, the pairing of Aaron Woods and James Tamou has failed to blow out a candle. Andrew Fifita, except for one glorious moment in Game 1 has been similar.

The strength in the forwards has actually come from the hard running of David Klemmer and in game two, the outstanding debut of Tyson Frizell.

All the while in the background, mowing down opposition players on the right edge is New South Wales’ best throughout the series, Josh Jackson. Unheralded Josh Jackson.

While people bicker about the bizarre reluctance to include James Tedesco and note the swift and immediate return of Josh Dugan, the brilliance of these more creative and expansive players is all worth naught without the platform laid by other men in the centre of the field.

The end of that last sentence could almost be the opening line of a Corey Parker biography. He has been doing this for over fifteen years and quite frankly, it took many fans too long to notice the true effectiveness of his work.

Other Origin players have played in a similar vein to these two men and remained unheralded until close to their retirement.

Steven Price and Petero Civoniceva were highly regarded yet their status was elevated during and after the 2006 series. They were turned on by one of their own as Paul Vautin labelled them ‘too old and too slow.’ Vautin wasn’t the only one.

They produced performances that absolutely obliterated a younger and more ‘fashionable’ pack including Brent Kite, Willie Mason and Mark O’Meley. They were out enthused and fatigued by two men aged thirty three and thirty five.

It was a master class in front row play. Other players may have featured in the highlight reel, especially in Game 2 as the Queenslanders piled on thirty points yet the big men were the key.

Matt Scott seems to be experiencing the same increase in plaudits and respect in his twilight years.

Why does it take us so long to see the true value of the grit, the grind and the player who truly fatigues others with relentless effort? Does our desire for highlight reel performances take away from some of the more mundane and important parts of the game.

There are a few other modern players who have recently enjoyed increasing awareness of their talents after flying under the ‘star’ radar for many years. Luke Lewis first emerged as a young, exciting winger for Penrith in 2001.

His move into the forwards in 2008 took some of the popularity out of his performances yet he emerged as a new player. He subsequently moulded himself into one of the toughest and most effective players at representative level.

At times I was baffled at his selections for both New South Wales and Australia, yet his performances were outstanding. He was too easily labelled, as was the case with Price and Civoniceva, as too old.

Beau Scott and Jeremy Smith are two others that spring to mind. Wayne Bennett’s desire for their presence at the different clubs he has steered towards success suggests two things.

Firstly, that their unfashionable and tough, workmanlike efforts were not often as visible as a Akuila Uate tackle bust or a Jamie Soward forty twenty.

Yet there they were making tackles and plugging holes in the line for the same men whose poor reads and poor technique was often masked by their own ruthless endeavour.

Secondly, the efforts of Bennett to acquire their signatures might also tell us a little about how he sees the game a little bit more clearly than most and appreciated some intricacies to which others may not be so well attuned.

It is not just the current generation where this phenomenon occurs. Ray Price was never fashionable yet one has to wonder how many of those epic encounters of the late seventies and early eighties might have gone Parramatta’s way without him.

The same could be said of Dean Lance, Alan Tongue or Trevor Gillmeister. There are one or two of these guys at every Club.

Let’s applaud the amazing athleticism of Nathan Ross and the sheer power and grace of a Semi Radradra type at full speed but let’s also keep our eyes on the Sam Thaiday, Paul Vaughan and Josh Jackson types.

They reflect the more traditional origins of the game; played on poor surfaces with a five metre rule and the need for more of a grinding style. T

he speed of the modern game tends to cause fans to focus on the hero and the stunning. It would be a shame to lose a sense of both and a balance between the two.