Rugby league prepares to say farewell to Johnathan Thurston

Johnathan Thurston sings his last song tonight. It’s Bradman’s last innings. Freeman’s last lap.

Johnathan Thurston is met by fans at the airport on his way to his last game as a professional rugby league player. Picture: Annette Dew

Oh, no.

Johnathan Thurston sings his last song tonight. It’s Bradman’s last innings. Freeman’s last lap. He’s been good. Inspiring. Influential. Big-hearted. Kind-hearted. Important. A complete ratbag in his early days. I’ve seen a youthful Thurston passed out on the bathroom floor at the Dally Ms. Free drinks? He went hard there, too. Wrong places. Wrong times. But he’s matured. Beautifully. Manfully. It matters nought how things begin or progress. It matters how they end.

He’s become a diligent role model for indigenous youth. A dedicated husband to Samantha. A father of three to Frankie, Charlie, and Lillie. Imagine Thurston as a dad. I imagine a fun-loving, kookaburra-laughing, mischievous, protective man who probably weeps some nights at the mere thought of his three daughters. He’s worked his arse off for club, state, country, people. He’s been successful. A joy. Crash-test dummies have endured less punishment, and here comes his last match. Ever. Oh, no.

It brings a tear to the eye. My eye. Your eye. Mal Meninga’s eye. The 13th Immortal was on Fox Sports on Thursday night. He was either genuinely upset about the end of days for Thurston or someone had forgotten to do the dusting. It was touching stuff. Sincere. Nobody gives a hoot about the result between Thurston’s North Queensland Cowboys and the Gold Coast Titans tonight because the clock will count down to something of more significance than full-time. It will send all of us, minute-by-minute, into a world of NRL that does not have a Johnathan Thurston in it. Oh, no.

“It’s sad,” Meninga said. “I’m sad. I’ve had a little bit to do with his career and him as a person. I’m so proud of him. The things he’s achieved in his career — but I am sad. Sad to see him go. If you wanted to describe the game of rugby league through an individual in the game, Johnathan Thurston would be my pick. Because he loves the game. Because of everything he says about the game. The way he carries himself. The person he is. The growth in him since those Bulldogs days and the early years with the Maroons. He’s grown as a person. He understands where he sits in this world.”

Meninga added: “He understands that he’s an important role model not only for the game of rugby league but for his people, indigenous people, the First Nation people. He wants to make his mark there. He hasn’t finished his life because football is over and done with. There’s better things in front of him because he can use his fame and his profile to make our world a better place to be in. And to help his people be in a better place in Australia. People want to go through the gates and watch him play his very last game. People want to watch his last 80 minutes of rugby league … and then they’ll keep following him. If he wants to make a difference in this world, people will follow him because he’s got the right traits and right characteristics as a person.”

Kick-off is 5.30pm. He’ll be done in time for dinner.

“I came to the club as an unknown and my life certainly changed,” Thurston says of his 14 years at the Cowboys. “Winning our first ever grand final still brings a smile to my face. I haven’t really thought about what I’ve achieved just yet but never in my wildest dreams, when I was kicking a ball in the backyard in housing commission in Brisbane, would I have thought I’d have the career I’ve had. Life after footy? It’s starting to look extremely busy. We had big-money offers to go overseas or to other clubs but I like living in Townsville. I love the community. I want what’s best for the community. I think it’s a great place to raise a family, so we’ve decided to stay here. No doubt I’ll have to commute a little bit with the work that I do — but I get to come home to paradise. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

When you’ve spent decades covering sport as a job, it takes something a bit special to give you goosebumps. Plenty of athletes are commendable figures but very few of them have the true sporting magic in their hands, their feet, their eyes, their souls.

I’m from Newcastle. I’ve watched the last great halfback, Andrew Johns, light the joint up on Friday nights as though he’s the front man in a rock band. There was never going to be anyone as electrifying as Johns — but then Thurston came along with giant angel wings tattooed on his back. He won Dally Ms, Golden Boots, Origins, Tests, the Cowboys’ first premiership. He picked out kids in the crowd to give them his headgear or a kicking tee. He’s been the people’s champion. It’s good stuff. Legendary stuff. Will we ever see another quite like him? Oh, no.