**Dear Benji Marshall, please stand aside from your Wests Tigers NRL duties. Now**
Dear Benji Marshall, I have one word for you. Go.
Seriously, just bugger off. Whak off back to your home town of Whakatane or Auckland or wherever it is you're heading next year.
Who am I to tell you this? Not a rugby league expert, not a club member and not a "stakeholder" in any sense other than the emotional sense.
What I am, Benji, is a fan. A fan of the sport of rugby league and a fan of the club you nominally still play for, the Wests Tigers. Remember them? Anyone who saw your disgracefully-timed YouTube video to Auckland Blues fans would have reason to doubt it.
We fans are important, Benji. We're always told we're the lifeblood of the game, and there's truth in that. So for my sake, and for the sake of hundreds of thousands of ordinary people like me, please, just go.
Benji, I used to love the way you played. I swear in all honesty, you had no bigger fan. From day one I loved your fancy steppin', thrilled to your tricky passes, gasped at the way you took the devil-may-care ethos of touch footy and turned it into a winning NRL strategy.
You were always a little error prone. For every flick pass that found a team-mate like Pat Richards in that epic grand final try in 2005, there was a pass that sailed over the sidelines. Touch judges learned to duck balls when the Tigers backline cranked into gear.
But you know what? That was easy to forgive. Once in a generation, you see a player like Darren Lockyer who can do it all, who can somehow pull of being both brilliant and machine-like.
That was never you, and fair enough. You were who you were. Some bagged you for your inconsistency, but not me. Life is about risks and you took them. It made watching you exciting. It made weekends exciting. Damn it Benji, it made life exciting.
But somewhere along the way, the odds shifted. You developed the no-look pass, a play about as low-percentage as your average breathalyser reading. You also became predictable. You threw inside ball after inside ball without ever attacking the line.
To be fair, you suffered from the lack of a decent number seven outside you for much of your 11 year NRL career. With Scott Prince you won a premiership. When Robert Lui came good in 2010, you steered the Tigers within a point of a grand final.
With no top shelf halfback to relieve the pressure, you were forced into a different role. You developed a decent short kicking game, but the fact that it became your job to set up the play, rather than making the play, never suited you. It left you looking confused, disjointed and ultimately disinterested.
In short, Benji, you failed to mature as a footballer. You were brilliant, but you were not adaptable. That's the last word on what could have been one of the great NRL careers.
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This isn't personal. I always liked you and still do. So last night Benji, I thought I'd give you one last chance. On a bitterly cold Sydney night, I braved the elements and the grossly inflated seven dollar beers, and joined the even more grossly inflated crowd of 8,393 at the Sydney Footy Stadium.
What a letdown. What an unbelievable letdown. As things stand now Benji, you are no longer a first grade footballer. Your head's not there and your heart's not in it. As for your defence, you are officially a turnstile. Perhaps that's how the NRL came up with 5,000 phantom fans.
The road from here is clear, Benji. If coach Mick Potter doesn't sack you this week, you must sack yourself. I've read your autobiography, and I remember how hungry you once were. The Tigers have some great young halves who are hungry like that now. You owe them a chance.
More importantly, you owe your club. The Tigers could be a respectable team in 2014 if they blood young Mitchell Moses and Luke Brooks in first grade for the last three games of this dead 2013 campaign. Give them a go. Stand aside. Act like a loyal man for the first time all year, Benji.
Oh, and thanks for the memories. They are good memories. But they are fading rapidly with every game you play.
http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/sport/dear-benji-marshall-please-stand-aside-from-your-wests-tigers-nrl-duties-now/story-fni2flhh-1226700498418
Dear Benji Marshall, I have one word for you. Go.
Seriously, just bugger off. Whak off back to your home town of Whakatane or Auckland or wherever it is you're heading next year.
Who am I to tell you this? Not a rugby league expert, not a club member and not a "stakeholder" in any sense other than the emotional sense.
What I am, Benji, is a fan. A fan of the sport of rugby league and a fan of the club you nominally still play for, the Wests Tigers. Remember them? Anyone who saw your disgracefully-timed YouTube video to Auckland Blues fans would have reason to doubt it.
We fans are important, Benji. We're always told we're the lifeblood of the game, and there's truth in that. So for my sake, and for the sake of hundreds of thousands of ordinary people like me, please, just go.
Benji, I used to love the way you played. I swear in all honesty, you had no bigger fan. From day one I loved your fancy steppin', thrilled to your tricky passes, gasped at the way you took the devil-may-care ethos of touch footy and turned it into a winning NRL strategy.
You were always a little error prone. For every flick pass that found a team-mate like Pat Richards in that epic grand final try in 2005, there was a pass that sailed over the sidelines. Touch judges learned to duck balls when the Tigers backline cranked into gear.
But you know what? That was easy to forgive. Once in a generation, you see a player like Darren Lockyer who can do it all, who can somehow pull of being both brilliant and machine-like.
That was never you, and fair enough. You were who you were. Some bagged you for your inconsistency, but not me. Life is about risks and you took them. It made watching you exciting. It made weekends exciting. Damn it Benji, it made life exciting.
But somewhere along the way, the odds shifted. You developed the no-look pass, a play about as low-percentage as your average breathalyser reading. You also became predictable. You threw inside ball after inside ball without ever attacking the line.
To be fair, you suffered from the lack of a decent number seven outside you for much of your 11 year NRL career. With Scott Prince you won a premiership. When Robert Lui came good in 2010, you steered the Tigers within a point of a grand final.
With no top shelf halfback to relieve the pressure, you were forced into a different role. You developed a decent short kicking game, but the fact that it became your job to set up the play, rather than making the play, never suited you. It left you looking confused, disjointed and ultimately disinterested.
In short, Benji, you failed to mature as a footballer. You were brilliant, but you were not adaptable. That's the last word on what could have been one of the great NRL careers.
CALL THAT A SPRAY? Check out some of best ever sport sprays
This isn't personal. I always liked you and still do. So last night Benji, I thought I'd give you one last chance. On a bitterly cold Sydney night, I braved the elements and the grossly inflated seven dollar beers, and joined the even more grossly inflated crowd of 8,393 at the Sydney Footy Stadium.
What a letdown. What an unbelievable letdown. As things stand now Benji, you are no longer a first grade footballer. Your head's not there and your heart's not in it. As for your defence, you are officially a turnstile. Perhaps that's how the NRL came up with 5,000 phantom fans.
The road from here is clear, Benji. If coach Mick Potter doesn't sack you this week, you must sack yourself. I've read your autobiography, and I remember how hungry you once were. The Tigers have some great young halves who are hungry like that now. You owe them a chance.
More importantly, you owe your club. The Tigers could be a respectable team in 2014 if they blood young Mitchell Moses and Luke Brooks in first grade for the last three games of this dead 2013 campaign. Give them a go. Stand aside. Act like a loyal man for the first time all year, Benji.
Oh, and thanks for the memories. They are good memories. But they are fading rapidly with every game you play.
http://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/sport/dear-benji-marshall-please-stand-aside-from-your-wests-tigers-nrl-duties-now/story-fni2flhh-1226700498418
