In 2019, the National Rugby League will be played without Johnathan Thurston for the first time since 2001. Cue the obligatory memoir!
The latter part of Thurston's 2018 season was somewhat surreal. His North Queensland Cowboys had a terrible year and were out of title contention by mid-season. Thurston himself was playing like a man who may possibly have stretched his career one season too many. If his career had finished with his final on-field act of 2017 - overcoming a busted shoulder to kick a classic curling conversion from the sideline and win Queensland the second State of Origin game - that would have a been a more fitting farewell. Yet everywhere he went he was feted, with opposing teams presenting him farewell gifts after each game.
His final act on the field, so to speak, was perhaps an appropriate sign-off for both the season and the career. The match was an otherwise inconsequential game between the Cowboys and the equally struggling Gold Coast Titans, played in front of a small crowd at Robina. Throughout the game a young woman held a sign. 'I love you JT, can I have your boots?.' After the game was over and the Titans had made their presentation to Thurston he sat down, pulled off the boots, jogged over to the grandstand and handed them to her. Her face lit up.
Thurston's status as a player is, of course, founded on his playing skills. He is unchallenged as the best halfback of his generation. His popularity, on the other hand, is founded on his instinctive and habitual generosity. He started giving his headgear to young fans back when he was a promising young playmaker at the Canterbury Bulldogs and although his sponsors pay for the gear, it was his idea that they do so. Instead of leaving the ball-kid to find the kicking tee he picks it up and hands it to them.
There are also bigger acts of generosity. His first Grand Final win came with the Bulldogs in 2004 after an injury to team captain Steve Price opened a spot on the bench. After the presentation, he handed his premiership ring to Price. More than a decade later, after he had led the Cowboys to their long-awaited first premiership in 2015, his satisfaction was soured by a strong feeling that he had been unfairly awarded the Clive Churchill Medal for best player on the ground, naming a number of team-mates he thought had played better. Not to mention his foundation that supports education for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people.
For all these good qualities, I have to confess that I left his autobiography feeling more disturbed than uplifted. Along with the catalogue of achievements and the rags to riches story (young Aboriginal boy from poor but caring family, branded too small, gets his chance and becomes a champion) there is a telling glimpse into Rugby League's drinking culture.
It begins with Thurston as a young lad at the Canterbury Bulldogs, insecure, homesick and desperate to fit in.
The Bulldogs were a side that bonded over booze. It was in pubs and nightclubs that they formed friendships that would never be broken. Their unofficial motto was party hard and work harder. And oh boy, did they do both!
I had never been a big drinker but I was forced to learn fast. Being a Bulldog was as much about booze and benders as it was rugby league. The Bulldogs were a unique side in that they were together seven days a week. They would train together, play together and drink together....
Most of their games were on Friday nights, and they would go out after the game and drink until Monday. Seriously. That was a normal weekend.
What he doesn't say quite so blatantly, although he makes it clear enough, is that in fact the team bonded over booze and sex. These drunk young men would invite equally drunk young women back to their hotel rooms and have group sex. Perhaps some of the women enjoyed it but it is abundantly clear that many didn't. The young Thurston was drawn onto this vortex. He found himself accused of rape after a session with a young woman and a team-mate. He insists the sex was consensual and the police concluded that charges were not warranted.
In the subsequent off-season a number of Bulldogs players (not including Thurston this time) found themselves accused of rape in the wake of another group sex session. This time the case hit the news and the Bulldogs culture came under close scrutiny. Once again, no-one was charged.
In such circumstances it is hard to establish a lack of consent with the level of certainty that would meet the requirements of criminal law. Still you have to ask: if everyone is drunk, there are half a dozen aggressive young men and one woman, how exactly is consent established? If the woman decides she has had enough half-way through, will her pleas be heard? Thurston is now the father of three little girls. It's hard to imagine he would be happy to learn in a decade or so that one of them had been subjected to this sort of treatment.
It doesn't seem that Thurston took the sex lessons with him when he moved to the Cowboys in 2005, but the binge drinking stayed with him throughout his career, as did the occasional trouble. He was introduced to his new team-mates over a pre-season pub crawl. In 2010 his contract was almost torn up after an arrest for being drunk and disorderly in Brisbane. He describes how he lived just a few hundred metres from Townsville's nightclub district and took all the advantage he could of the nightlife. I remember another incident, which he doesn't discuss, in which the police found him in front of his unit unable to remember where he lived. They took him back to the police station for his own safety until he sobered up enough to remember his address and be taken home.
His discussion of Mal Meninga's time as Queensland coach makes it clear just how much the 'team bonding' of his Bulldogs days remained normal.
A rep coach has to make sure his players are mentally ready to play. He has to be a master at getting them in the mood and ready to rip.
Part of that was making sure we had a good time, and Mal...doesn't mind having a good time, sometimes even a little more than us.
'Bed at 10pm fellas,' he would say, putting his latest curfew on us.
And then Justin Hodges would give him a red wine, I would give him the next.
"Righto, let's wrap this up at 11pm, boys,' he would say. 'Big day tomorrow'.
Greg Inglis would bring him his next red, filled to the brim.
'OK,' he would say. 'Let's make it midnight.'
Hodgo would then break out the scotch.
'Fuck the curfew,' Mal would say. 'Let's have some shots.'
In 2013 he went to England with the Australian team for the World Cup.
Going out in the UK was always a blast because you could let your hair down. People didn't recognise you so you didn't have to worry about being caught out doing something silly.... We had a fair crack on the drink during that tour. We didn't to a lot of sightseeing but we did a heap of drinking. We made a ritual of going to a place called the Church. It was open from midday to 4pm and you would get in free if you were dressed up. For 10 pounds you would get four UDL style drinks in a bag.... We would walk out of there thinking it was 4am and it would only be 4pm. The night was just starting. It was onto a hotel called the Walkabout. I can't remember what went on there, given how much we drank at the other joint.
We had plenty of fun on the football field too. The good times didn't stop us from performing - if anything they helped.... It was an old-school style of tour where we had plenty of good times and played plenty of good football.
Now I'm not a wowser. I don't mind people drinking and enjoying themselves. I don't even mind people getting drunk if they must, provided they don't endanger others in the process. But in these contexts that's hard to guarantee. In a culture where collective binge-drinking is seen as one of the keys to good performance it's hard to be sure that all these drunk young men will behave responsibly. In fact the reverse.
Thus it is that four weeks after Thurston's low key departure from the football field, on the night of the 2018 Grand Final, Parramatta star Jarryd Hayne arranged a meeting with a young woman which resulted in her accusing him of rape - and in this case, despite Hayne's denial, the police decided the evidence was strong enough to charge him.
Just a couple of days later Greg Inglis celebrated his appointment as Australian captain with a night of drinking and then the next morning, still under the influence, decided to drive to Sydney to join the team. Instead he was arrested for drink driving, lost his new title before even touching a ball (along with his drivers licence) and found himself suspended from the team he was meant to lead. By none other than Mal Meninga, with whom he had shared red wine and shots not so many years earlier. He can count himself lucky that this was the only consequence, given the all-too-common result of drink driving.
Is this problem soluble? Well, surely it is. Plenty of people form close bonds, including team bonds, without binge-drinking together. The effects of excessive alcohol consumption on physical performance are almost entirely negative. Only the amazing resilience of youth enables these young men to keep going week after week.
Yet culture is notoriously hard to to change. How could a 19-year-old Thurston, far from home and eager to please, have resisted the alcoholic induction at the Bulldogs and hoped to succeed? Why would he when impressive mentors like Steve Price and Mal Meninga, men of integrity and intelligence, swear by this culture? Why would his younger team-mates, in their turn, resist when he inducts them into the same culture?
Yet for every dozen happy, innocent nights on the town there is one in which a woman is raped or abused, someone is assaulted by a highly tuned athlete, or people are endangered by a drunk young man behind the wheel. As long as footballers keep doing the same things, they will get the same results.
The latter part of Thurston's 2018 season was somewhat surreal. His North Queensland Cowboys had a terrible year and were out of title contention by mid-season. Thurston himself was playing like a man who may possibly have stretched his career one season too many. If his career had finished with his final on-field act of 2017 - overcoming a busted shoulder to kick a classic curling conversion from the sideline and win Queensland the second State of Origin game - that would have a been a more fitting farewell. Yet everywhere he went he was feted, with opposing teams presenting him farewell gifts after each game.His final act on the field, so to speak, was perhaps an appropriate sign-off for both the season and the career. The match was an otherwise inconsequential game between the Cowboys and the equally struggling Gold Coast Titans, played in front of a small crowd at Robina. Throughout the game a young woman held a sign. 'I love you JT, can I have your boots?.' After the game was over and the Titans had made their presentation to Thurston he sat down, pulled off the boots, jogged over to the grandstand and handed them to her. Her face lit up.
Thurston's status as a player is, of course, founded on his playing skills. He is unchallenged as the best halfback of his generation. His popularity, on the other hand, is founded on his instinctive and habitual generosity. He started giving his headgear to young fans back when he was a promising young playmaker at the Canterbury Bulldogs and although his sponsors pay for the gear, it was his idea that they do so. Instead of leaving the ball-kid to find the kicking tee he picks it up and hands it to them.
There are also bigger acts of generosity. His first Grand Final win came with the Bulldogs in 2004 after an injury to team captain Steve Price opened a spot on the bench. After the presentation, he handed his premiership ring to Price. More than a decade later, after he had led the Cowboys to their long-awaited first premiership in 2015, his satisfaction was soured by a strong feeling that he had been unfairly awarded the Clive Churchill Medal for best player on the ground, naming a number of team-mates he thought had played better. Not to mention his foundation that supports education for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people.
For all these good qualities, I have to confess that I left his autobiography feeling more disturbed than uplifted. Along with the catalogue of achievements and the rags to riches story (young Aboriginal boy from poor but caring family, branded too small, gets his chance and becomes a champion) there is a telling glimpse into Rugby League's drinking culture.
It begins with Thurston as a young lad at the Canterbury Bulldogs, insecure, homesick and desperate to fit in.
The Bulldogs were a side that bonded over booze. It was in pubs and nightclubs that they formed friendships that would never be broken. Their unofficial motto was party hard and work harder. And oh boy, did they do both!
I had never been a big drinker but I was forced to learn fast. Being a Bulldog was as much about booze and benders as it was rugby league. The Bulldogs were a unique side in that they were together seven days a week. They would train together, play together and drink together....
Most of their games were on Friday nights, and they would go out after the game and drink until Monday. Seriously. That was a normal weekend.
What he doesn't say quite so blatantly, although he makes it clear enough, is that in fact the team bonded over booze and sex. These drunk young men would invite equally drunk young women back to their hotel rooms and have group sex. Perhaps some of the women enjoyed it but it is abundantly clear that many didn't. The young Thurston was drawn onto this vortex. He found himself accused of rape after a session with a young woman and a team-mate. He insists the sex was consensual and the police concluded that charges were not warranted.
In the subsequent off-season a number of Bulldogs players (not including Thurston this time) found themselves accused of rape in the wake of another group sex session. This time the case hit the news and the Bulldogs culture came under close scrutiny. Once again, no-one was charged.
In such circumstances it is hard to establish a lack of consent with the level of certainty that would meet the requirements of criminal law. Still you have to ask: if everyone is drunk, there are half a dozen aggressive young men and one woman, how exactly is consent established? If the woman decides she has had enough half-way through, will her pleas be heard? Thurston is now the father of three little girls. It's hard to imagine he would be happy to learn in a decade or so that one of them had been subjected to this sort of treatment.
It doesn't seem that Thurston took the sex lessons with him when he moved to the Cowboys in 2005, but the binge drinking stayed with him throughout his career, as did the occasional trouble. He was introduced to his new team-mates over a pre-season pub crawl. In 2010 his contract was almost torn up after an arrest for being drunk and disorderly in Brisbane. He describes how he lived just a few hundred metres from Townsville's nightclub district and took all the advantage he could of the nightlife. I remember another incident, which he doesn't discuss, in which the police found him in front of his unit unable to remember where he lived. They took him back to the police station for his own safety until he sobered up enough to remember his address and be taken home.
His discussion of Mal Meninga's time as Queensland coach makes it clear just how much the 'team bonding' of his Bulldogs days remained normal.
A rep coach has to make sure his players are mentally ready to play. He has to be a master at getting them in the mood and ready to rip.
Part of that was making sure we had a good time, and Mal...doesn't mind having a good time, sometimes even a little more than us.
'Bed at 10pm fellas,' he would say, putting his latest curfew on us.
And then Justin Hodges would give him a red wine, I would give him the next.
"Righto, let's wrap this up at 11pm, boys,' he would say. 'Big day tomorrow'.
Greg Inglis would bring him his next red, filled to the brim.
'OK,' he would say. 'Let's make it midnight.'
Hodgo would then break out the scotch.
'Fuck the curfew,' Mal would say. 'Let's have some shots.'
In 2013 he went to England with the Australian team for the World Cup.
Going out in the UK was always a blast because you could let your hair down. People didn't recognise you so you didn't have to worry about being caught out doing something silly.... We had a fair crack on the drink during that tour. We didn't to a lot of sightseeing but we did a heap of drinking. We made a ritual of going to a place called the Church. It was open from midday to 4pm and you would get in free if you were dressed up. For 10 pounds you would get four UDL style drinks in a bag.... We would walk out of there thinking it was 4am and it would only be 4pm. The night was just starting. It was onto a hotel called the Walkabout. I can't remember what went on there, given how much we drank at the other joint.
We had plenty of fun on the football field too. The good times didn't stop us from performing - if anything they helped.... It was an old-school style of tour where we had plenty of good times and played plenty of good football.
Now I'm not a wowser. I don't mind people drinking and enjoying themselves. I don't even mind people getting drunk if they must, provided they don't endanger others in the process. But in these contexts that's hard to guarantee. In a culture where collective binge-drinking is seen as one of the keys to good performance it's hard to be sure that all these drunk young men will behave responsibly. In fact the reverse.
Thus it is that four weeks after Thurston's low key departure from the football field, on the night of the 2018 Grand Final, Parramatta star Jarryd Hayne arranged a meeting with a young woman which resulted in her accusing him of rape - and in this case, despite Hayne's denial, the police decided the evidence was strong enough to charge him.
Just a couple of days later Greg Inglis celebrated his appointment as Australian captain with a night of drinking and then the next morning, still under the influence, decided to drive to Sydney to join the team. Instead he was arrested for drink driving, lost his new title before even touching a ball (along with his drivers licence) and found himself suspended from the team he was meant to lead. By none other than Mal Meninga, with whom he had shared red wine and shots not so many years earlier. He can count himself lucky that this was the only consequence, given the all-too-common result of drink driving.
Is this problem soluble? Well, surely it is. Plenty of people form close bonds, including team bonds, without binge-drinking together. The effects of excessive alcohol consumption on physical performance are almost entirely negative. Only the amazing resilience of youth enables these young men to keep going week after week.
Yet culture is notoriously hard to to change. How could a 19-year-old Thurston, far from home and eager to please, have resisted the alcoholic induction at the Bulldogs and hoped to succeed? Why would he when impressive mentors like Steve Price and Mal Meninga, men of integrity and intelligence, swear by this culture? Why would his younger team-mates, in their turn, resist when he inducts them into the same culture?
Yet for every dozen happy, innocent nights on the town there is one in which a woman is raped or abused, someone is assaulted by a highly tuned athlete, or people are endangered by a drunk young man behind the wheel. As long as footballers keep doing the same things, they will get the same results.
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