in the back woods of rugby league

Eternal optimists,

The winter wire is back.
For better or for worse.
The last weekend in September seems like only yesterday, maybe because we are barely a couple of weeks into autumn.
Balmain never had a snowflakes after the week they've had, but no one expected to see the Mighty Tiges at the bottom of the ladder after Round 1.
They've got some work to do.
That's bleedin' obvious.
Did like the contrast of the greenest rookie coach in the caper calling the shots in his very first game .v. the most ancient super coach in the rugby league universe, who's been at the wheel in a zillion matches and won a premiership or seven, just quietly.
Out-smarted, out-played, rolled over and tickled on the tummy.
Back to the drawing board Mr Michael "Mick" Potter [who will be known from here on in as Coach Harry].
Nice enough bloke, who talks sense in quiet measured tones, doesn't take fools lightly, and runs a tight ship, but clearly has a lot of home work to complete by next weekend.
The players, and who can blame them, were all at sea, following the mid-week funeral of the young kiddie Mosese Fotuaika, who was expected to break into the Tigers first grade side this year with a splash after signing a lucrative new contract, but topped himself instead at the age of 20.
The shocking tragedy has sparked some interesting, frank & honest talk in the back woods of rugby league.
It appears the number of young indigenous players coming into the game has dropped off dramatically in recent years as they are overcome by the pressure to perform and pay their dues while being over-run by the sheer bulk and lightning speed of the Islander lads over short distances.
It's patently obvious that the Aboriginal dudes and the Torres Strait guys are better off in Australian Rules, where there are no Islanders at all to compete with, but if they play any kind of professional football they still have to deal with, for them, unbearable demands
The Islander kiddies also come under the same enormous pressure, due mainly to the tribal clan system that requires that they share their fabulous new found wealth with the extended, extended family to the point where they barely have enough money to pay the rent, buy a ham sandwich, and have a couple of beers on Monday night even though they are earning hundreds of thousands of dollars a season.
Who gets what is subject to eternal quarrelling, and those who get nothing for one reason or another, inevitably hate your guts, and you have no control over it.
The clubs are pulling their hair out over it as there is nothing they can seemingly do about it, as most of the boys they get are plucked from South Pacific villages with little education who know nothing else and are patently unsuited to big city life.
To make matters worse, they play with other blokes who see the opportunity of a lifetime right there in front of them, and the sensible ones who are free to invest their excess cash to set themselves up for life while still living a lavish lifestyle in the here and the now.
Some just get to the point where they can't take it anymore.
There was a very sad story of some other kid that was mentioned this week.
He was about the same age as Mosese - can't remember his name or who he played for - who a couple of years back went to his first senior training session seemingly with a glittering career ahead of him and picked up his first grade gear including his jumper with his name and number on the back, went home to his sister's place where was living, put his kit bag on the lounge room floor, kissed her good night and went to bed.
He didn't appear in the morning and everyone in the house thought he was just having a sleep in after a big day, until he didn't show up for lunch, and someone thought to go and have a look in his room, only to find he'd hung himself.
It's clear we are failing the barely literate, vulnerable, highly-strung Yoof of Today here, and there appears to be no way out as long as the long-held traditional system of obligation and recrimination persists.
Or the kids just stop playing, as the indigenous lads - who are just fed up with all the same stresses - appear to have done.
Just ask Ben Barba, he'll tell you.
It is a hidden problem that is rarely spoken of, taboo really; but surely, the people who are paying the wages at some point have a right to draw a line in the sand and say how much is too much of a price to pay?
Just don't know.
In any case, a not so brilliant start to the season.

NEWCASTLE KNIGHTS 42. Tries: Uate (3), Gagai (2), McManus (2). Goals: Gidley (7).
WESTS TIGERS 10. Tries: Blair, Moltzen. Goals: Marshall (1).
Crowd: 21,925.
At International Sports Centre, Newcastle.