Quade Cooper: Australian rugby has never known how to get the best out of Taniela Tupou, but there’s still time
When Quade Cooper heard Taniela Tupou speak recently about his feelings towards rugby — and the emptiness he described — it struck a nerve. And it also prompted some advice, as Cooper reveals.
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As a former teammate and someone who has walked a similar path, I find myself thinking a lot about Taniela Tupou, especially with the British & Irish Lions series upon us.
There’s been a lot of talk and concern about his current form and mental state, but I believe he will be a massive part of the Wallabies’ campaign. Not just because of what he’s done in the past, but because of what he’s still capable of.
I’ve seen his talent first-hand, and I understand the unique pressures that come with being a player who doesn’t fit the mould. Someone so gifted, so different, that the system often doesn’t know how to support or guide you.
When I first heard Taniela wanted to play with me in Queensland and saw the footage of him dominating at Auckland schoolboy level, I was completely blown away.
He’s not just a special talent — he’s a generational talent.
What makes him so extraordinary as a tight-head prop is his combination of immense size, skill, explosiveness, and speed.
Players like him simply don’t come around often. We’ve had big, strong props in Australian rugby, but none with his unique blend of abilities.
Even at just 18, there was this unmistakeable moment of: damn. You just knew that if he was nurtured the right way, he could completely shift the game.
But with that came a huge burden. Being so dominant so young, in one of the most physically demanding and technical positions on the field, placed expectations on him that few truly understand.
Most props don’t fully hit their stride until their late 20s or early 30s. That’s when their bodies, minds, and scrummaging craft come together.
For Taniela to carry the weight of expectation as a teenager and be seen as the answer to our set-piece struggles and go-forward ball against the best in the world, that’s an enormous ask.
The deeper challenge is this: Australian rugby has never really known how to bring the best out of him.
We’ve never had a player like Taniela. There was no blueprint.
And that’s something I relate to.
When I signed my first professional contract at 17, I came from a background where there was no real understanding of money, fame, or pressure.
We didn’t grow up with money. And when I suddenly had access to it, I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t save a cent until I was 21.
Not because I was careless, but because no one around me had been through it before. I had no one who could guide me.
I didn’t know where to ask or how to ask for help. So I told myself I had to figure it out alone. I pretended I had the answers, because I didn’t know who actually did.
You feel like you can’t show vulnerability. Like asking for help means you’re weak. So you fake it and try to carry it all — until it eventually catches up to you.
For Taniela, with his rare ability and the pressure that’s followed him from such a young age, who’s been there to help him navigate that?
The hardest thing for coaches is the temptation to treat him like every other tight-head. But he’s not.
Dave Rennie probably came the closest. He understood the cultural side, built trust, and really tried to nurture him. But that window was short. And now, Taniela’s on his fourth national coach.
When I heard him speak recently about his feelings toward rugby, it struck a nerve. That emptiness he described — I’ve felt that. Deeply.
It’s not that you fall out of love with the game. It’s that you start to feel lost in it.
You show up, do everything that’s asked of you, and yet something still feels like it’s missing.
That was me after the 2011 World Cup.
At that time, I was public enemy number one. I copped it from every direction. The whole country was on my back.
I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t have the tools or the emotional maturity. And I didn’t have anyone to turn to who had walked that same road.
So I just tried to pretend I was okay. That it wasn’t getting to me. I looked for answers in all the wrong places. I blamed coaches. I thought maybe I should’ve left, maybe if I hadn’t been injured, things would’ve been different.
But deep down, I knew none of that was fixing anything.
My turning point came around 2021.
After doing a lot of personal work, I realised the emptiness I felt wasn’t about not winning a World Cup or missing a jersey.
It was that I had never truly committed. Not fully. Not across the board.
I was operating at maybe 70 percent of my potential and still getting by. But I wasn’t fulfilled.
Everything changed when I decided to give everything to the process.
I cleaned up my habits. Dialled in my diet. Took recovery seriously. Committed to training with intent every single day.
When I did that, something shifted.
I wasn’t chasing selection or validation. I wasn’t performing for anyone else. I was living my standard — every day, every rep, every decision.
So when Dave Rennie invited me to camp, I wasn’t excited because of the opportunity to play. I was excited because I knew the version of me walking in there was the best version I had ever been.
When you get to that point, the scoreboard doesn’t define you anymore. The jersey doesn’t either.
That’s where true fulfilment lives.
And that brings me back to Taniela.
Even at 70 percent, he’s still better than most.
But unlocking that final 30 percent — that’s the real challenge.
That’s where greatness lives.
It’s about pushing yourself to the edge and asking, “How far can I really go?”
I always think about Reece Hodge when I speak on this.
Before his 50th Test, I told the boys, “Talent-wise, some of you have more than Hodgie. But he’s playing 50 because of his attitude, his work ethic, and his discipline.”
That’s his superpower. He squeezed every ounce out of what he had.
Taniela’s ceiling is different. His potential is sky-high.
And he’s only 29.
If he finds that gear now, we could see six or seven years of him at his absolute peak.
Not just playing — dominating.
But more than the performances, I hope he finds what I found.
That peace. That fulfilment. That feeling of knowing you gave everything to your craft and held nothing back.
Because that’s the best feeling there is.
And when he does, it won’t just change his game. It’ll lift Australian rugby as a whole.
He’s already great. But there’s so much more in him.
And I can’t wait to see it.
Originally published as Quade Cooper: Australian rugby has never known how to get the best out of Taniela Tupou, but there’s still time