An open letter from Sydneysiders to retiring Queensland legend Johnathan Thurston
FOR every time you’ve broken our hearts Thursto, you just as quickly win us back. So here’s a heartfelt letter of gratitude from us Sydneysiders ahead of your last ever game in the Big Smoke.
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DEAR Johnathan,
First off, mate, a confession.
We know you never really kissed your cousin.
Just as we’re fairly sure you’ve never plucked a banjo, whistled Dixie, or even now carry the scars of a second head.
But a pair of dusters?
Oh, man, you’ve long been 86kg of ballsy intent.
That, and passion.
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All while carrying more than a little magic dust in your pockets, too.
Which is why, despite your role as the greatest Queensland villain not named Wally Lewis — or Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen — we Sydneysiders cannot do anything but love you.
Sure, we’ve had 11 Origin series losses to try.
Watching on, completely helpless, since 2005 as you’ve gone and turned interstate footy into the greatest of forgone conclusions.
And in reply, we hit back with … err, jokes.
Like what do Queenslanders use for contraception? Their personalities.
And as for the difference between Queenslanders and a trampoline? C’mon, you always remove your shoes to jump on a trampoline.
None of which, we concede, is great material.
But nor have we ever really needed it.
For every time you’ve broken our hearts Thursto — like, say, your field goal on debut, your match-winning try in the 2012 decider, your coming off an IV drip the following year to spank us, even playing 50 minutes last year with a busted shoulder — you just as quickly win us back.
By appearing in a wheelchair.
Or handing your headgear to some delirious young fan.
Hell, sometimes you’ll just go and laugh.
And how can anyone hate a man who cackles like you do?
Indeed, this has always been your magic.
Sure, you’ve won four Dally Ms, three Golden Boots and two first grade titles. More Origins than we’ve had in 26 years, too.
But you know what we Sydneysiders really love?
It’s the way you’re always picking up that kicking tee for the ball boy. Or in the 80th minute, still pushing like it were your first.
We love how when a try is scored, you’re in the frame orchestrating. And when one is conceded, you’re in the frame trying to stop it.
Put simply, Captain Everywhere.
Of course, you’re brilliant too.
But how many lives have you touched, we wonder? How many have you changed?
Which is why on Saturday, for your Sydney farewell, we just want to say thanks.
Thanks for letting kids know it’s OK to be small, to laugh, wear headgear, be black — or white — a Queenslander, whatever, doesn’t matter, just rip in, play hard, be proud, love your family, support your mates, listen, be respectful, give time, give back, win humbly, lose gracefully and always leave things better than you found them.
Oh, thanks for beating Brisbane in the 2015 decider, too.
Which isn’t to say this is all bouquets and fairytales.
Not when we talked of farewell premierships in March, and now see you fighting off a wooden spoon.
Which some people will say is unfair.
But c’mon, unfair is all those sick children you visit. And the disadvantaged youths you mentor.
Unfair is exactly what you teach kids to overcome.
Living proof that greatness is about taking what you’re given, no matter how big or small, and busting your arse for the rest.
It’s about leaving more than memories.
So again, thank you.