BY DAN

If, upon the coming of the final minute of his Canberra career, Elliott Whitehead gives us the very jersey off his back it would be apt for there is nothing else left to give.

Finally he can rest, as confirmed by the club. The south of France to play a bit of footy, maybe drink a few white wines in the sun, far away from the cold Canberra winters and the equally frigid professionalism of the NRL.

He will go having given more than offered back. His body, his courage, his heart and soul long given to the club. The very bones that hold him upright were ground into dust in Canberra’s service years ago, the superstructure now held up by a quiet determination that he would go on. His diligence and intelligence, underrated and overlooked probably because he was a forward, and spoke with an accent, was gifted freely and to the Raiders great benefit. The quiet fire that fueled him in the good and the bad times was handed over years ago.

His willingness to do literally anything the club asked was something he offered time and time again. Cover for the errors of others in defence and ask no recognition of the fact. You could find any game between 2016 and last week and find Elliott pushing inside out, covering a missed tackle or bad read by someone else. The human white-out, always fixing. It made it feel unfair when his mistake created a problem because he needed another him in the line to cover for him. Unfortunately there is only one Elliott Whitehead.

His coverage for the errors of others extended beyond immediate defensive moments. His willingness to do whatever it took obscured mistakes the club made in his time here. From taking the poisoned chalice of the captaincy when Jarrod Croker’s body, and Josh Hodgson and Ricky Stuart’s relationship, deteriorated. He took the halfback position when the same problem came between George Williams, Sticky, and a last minute hamstring ‘injury’. Even in recent years he’s continued to cover the the Raiders’ inability to build or buy a backrower, rolling himself onto the field like a hungover dad up for duty at the crack of dawn, still holding down an edge amongst the chaos around him. He should have been allowed a sleep in. Or at least a coffee.

All the while he was somehow underrated across the league. An elite edge defender in his prime, faster than most remember with some of the best ball playing instincts you will see in a backrower. With Croker and Jack Wighton he formed a dynamic left edge attack, a three-headed monster that had such a footy IQ, and such an understanding between them, that the club forgot to install a functional attack, instead just relying on brilliant footballers to be brilliant. In a professional league it shouldn’t have worked. It did, for the most part. Even in his most recent vintage, barely able to get into a gallop, he’s still found a way to prove himself a crucial part of defence, and surprisingly effective in short yardage in attack.

He was so good at what he did that for a while he felt like Canberra’s secret. Here was an elite backrower, the kind the Raiders searched decades for, and have spent the entirety of Smell’s career trying to replicate. Any club would want him but most people outside the Territory didn’t notice. Because it was Canberra, because he wasn’t steamrolling people or breaking ankles, because he was English and never seen on Origin night. His inimitable capacity to quietly collect every little problem in a game to take away and solve wasn’t the kind of stuff that gets you noticed on NRL360. But it does help win games.

There’s a saying that if you make yourself irreplaceable at work they’ll never let you leave. Elliott spent nine seasons in Canberra living proof of that idea. The more he did the more he had to do. When he couldn’t do it anymore, his imperfection was still better than any alternative, so he kept to his Sisyphean task. Roll that boulder, Smell; you’re the only one who can.

Luckily for Elliott football is never permanent. The rock is someone else’s problem now. He gets to move on a hero, having given the Raiders and the Canberra community everything it could ask for and more than he should have been able to offer. Because it was needed. Because no one else could. Because there was a mess and he was compelled to clean it up.

I wish him the best and I wish him rest. He’s earned it.

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