NSW Origin coach Laurie Daley the ultimate competitor, says Ricky Stuart

I MUST have played with Laurie Daley's twin. I see this other Laurie Daley walking around Origin training, smiling through his orders.

I MUST have played with Laurie Daley's twin.

I see this other Laurie Daley walking around Origin training, smiling through his orders, pointing at different field positions, ordering play, discussing strategies with his assistants.

This Laurie Daley was there the other day sitting down in the middle of the field watching his team go through ballwork, his legs crossed.

Clearly this is the happy-go-lucky Laurie Daley, the one they say is too nice to hate.

The Laurie Daley I played with was a tremendous competitor, not just on the field but off it.

The one I played with would walk up to me at the end of training and say: "What are you doing, Stick?"

"Some extra kicks," I'd say.

Then he'd start kicking the ball beside me.

"What are you doing now, mate?"

I'd tell him I was doing some extra fitness, hitting the punching bag, and he'd get along there with me.

And he always made sure that I finished first.

"What's that you're taking there, mate?" he'd say.

"Supplements," I'd say. "To help recovery."

"How many scoops?"

"Two."

So he'd take four.

Everything was a competition with Laurie. He always went harder and longer than everybody else.

The reason he is so popular is he took that attitude to training, his preparation, socially, wherever we were.

That's the Laurie Daley I played with, not this easygoing fellow I keep seeing now.

That attitude was a big part of his attraction. It's why people wanted to be around him.

We flew into Canberra from a game one night and as we were walking out of the airport Laurie said he was hungry. He felt like seafood, and a few of us thought we'd go and have a feed and a few beers together.

It was late and it was Canberra, so choices were few. So a few of us got in a cab and we headed into the northern suburbs of Canberra where we knew there was a seafood restaurant.

It was closed, so we got back in the cab and headed to the opposite end of Canberra where we knew there was another restaurant that served seafood.

By this time we'd spent more than an hour in the cab just to satisfy Laurie's craving. The rest of us could have had a beer anywhere.

When we got there we sat down and someone ordered some fish, another some lobster ... and when the waitress got to Laurie he looked at the menu and said, "I'll have the pumpkin soup and a steak."

Laurie was the light that went on at the Raiders. He was the player everyone else was drawn to. He was a leader.

He never let us down on the football field. He was the one that always found the inspirational play that picked up the rest of us.

His explosiveness as an athlete was frightening. He had speed off the mark like few have, a big left-foot step with a right-hand palm which came on top of an ability to bump and play like few could.

His strength, defensively, was damaging. He could find the shot when you needed it.

Wednesday will be a memorable night for Laurie, as big as anything he has done before in the game. He's taken over from me as coach and I've got no other advice for him than to say last year we won one game, and I hope he wins two.

After a match one day I had a headache and Laurie saw me taking a tablet, but didn't know it was just a Panadol.

"What's that, Stick?" Laurie said.

"It's good for muscle recovery," I told him. "I'll go and get you one."

I went to the doctor and told him I needed something, I had stomach cramps and hadn't been able to go to the toilet for four days.

Laurie took two.