BY DAN

Ricky Stuart is in a battle. With this season. With this team’s future. With himself.

When Ricky goes into the foxhole he reaches for his binkies. His safety blankets. Known quantities. Grinders. People that won’t make errors. People he trusts, whether they deserve it or not. He reaches for workmanlike halves and pushes anyone that offers a point of difference wider and wider from the ball. He doesn’t care if someone will give him 80 per cent of another’s ceiling. He just wants to know he’ll get the 80 per cent.

That’s how Danny Levi, Emre Guler and Adam Cook have found themselves in the starting 17 for Saturday’s game with the Cowboys. Levi, despite potentially being on the outer is a known quantity. Guler, potentially leaving the club in a matter of months is the same. Adam Cook is Matt Frawley is late-era Sam Williams is someone who’ll do what Stuart wants, play the way he wants.

This team is the Sticky persona writ large. His attitude. His insecurities. His ontology of rugby league. What is true or real to Ricky Stuart is found in the pages of this team sheet. When in doubt Stuart chooses certainty. When risk is present Stuart chooses mitigation. Forget embracing uncertainty. Ricky would rather give in to the devil than ask whether god exists.

And that’s manifested in his approach as the season’s pressure crescendos. Guler is no improvement on Mooney. I suspect Trey has been dropped for his sometimes suspect defensive effort. Fixing that with Guler is like fixing a leak in your boat with a drill. Levi is there because Stuart is too grouchy to include the presumably leaving Hohepa Puru or Corey Horsburgh. Adam Cook included because Stuart is searching for consistent and creative attack by adding more cooks to the line than better recipes. What if we build the whole side out of halves?

There are much better options. Seb Kris is not a winger (and hasn’t been a good or happy centre this season but that’s by-the-by). Albert Hopoate and Nic Cotric, who will be named in Cup footy on the weekend will be wondering how their offering is so inferior. James Schiller must be grateful he’s leaving and not sticking around to see these shenanigans repeat every time Stuart is put under pressure. But that’s also why he’s not preferred this week. There’s a squad full of middle forwards who must be wondering why they keep watching and Emre keeps ambling into first grade.

But more than just options it’s the opportunities that are wasted. Ethan Strange should be a six, for now but also for the future. Trey Mooney has much to learn about first grade. Pick a Martin if Corey Horsburgh hurt you so. If Hohepa Puru leaves it’s because he couldn’t see a pathway to first grade. Proving him right won’t change a thing. And in the meantime he’ll continue to show he’s too good for Cup footy. Even Bert Hopoate, who’s all certainty and little upside, has a higher ceiling on the wing than Kris.

These other, more risky, choices require taking a risk. Admitting that losing is a possibility and maybe even a likelihood. This doesn’t mean the team he selected is more likely to win. The paradox is that this mindset holds back the very systems Stuart wants to implement. Players often talk about Stuart empowers them to take risks on the field, to play what they see. But what we get instead is conservative, football without flamboyance, nary a risk to be found. Encouraging players with your words is one thing but true trust, absolute courage in how you live your life, must be built through action as well as word. And Stuart’s actions don’t create that environment.

Ultimately the material difference mightn’t be much. Ethan Strange might be amazing at centre because he’s an amazing player and Stuart will claim victory. All that matters to him is the now, and this is what Stuart believes will work. So here we are.

Ricky Stuart is in a battle. In the heat of it he is falling into the same habits, the same tropes, the same strings he pulls on every time he faces difficulty. Damn the future. Damn anything but this weekend and that trusted plan of grinding, fighting and clawing a way to victory. This is the battle within Ricky.

Do me a favour and like the page on  Facebook, follow me on Twitter, or share this on social media and I’ll tell you the four words you need to know to be able to beatbox. Don’t hesitate to send us feedback (dan@sportress.org) or comment below if you think we are stupid. Or if we’re not.