BY DAN

Winning is better than losing. Proof of this is perfectly encapsulated in the Canberra Raiders’ 40-28 victory over the Dolphins. A tale of two halves separated by a Sticky spray produced two completely different outcomes. Believe? Incredulous as it is, the Raiders keep proving they’re a quality football side. Now if only they could do it for a whole game.

Canberra came into this game wanting a test. A chance to show that the best of them is ready for the best of the league. Instead of taking the task at hand, they ratcheted up the problem, racked up the weights and still nailed the lift. It was good and bad. The duality of man. Yin and yang. Beavis and Butthead. In this performance we saw a team with potential soaring higher than the treetops. We also saw a floor lower than the hangover that comes after a three-day bender.

In that first half every weakness of this Canberra side was laid bare. They didn’t win the middle. Not often, not at all. It created havoc on both sides of the ball. In attack their inability to win rucks contributed to a slow, disconnected mess, devoid of anything approach an idea. That they managed to forage two tries in this dross was a minor miracle. One came from a stunning touchline tap dance from Seb Kris. The other a rare occasion the attack was oriented towards their strengths – hitting a hole at pace on the edge and letting good things come from that. Ata Mariota hit the hole, found an offload to Kaeo Weekes and Robert’s your mother’s brother.

In defence the Redcliffe middle won acres of space to play in. Isaiya Katoa, already in very good form, almost felt lonely with all the time he had to scheme before the line. Herbie Farnworth looked unstoppable. The right edge in particular was vulnerable, and Matt Timoko and Jamal Fogarty both suddenly looked stuck-in-the-mud.

It was this team at its worst. Slow. Predictable. Thumping itself slowly into the opposition like an asshole elephant. Scrambling and fumbling in defence. Hungover dads really wishing they hadn’t agreed to take the kids to the park after ice cream.

The ‘Phins scored 28 points in forty minutes. Two tries came through the aforementioned struggle of the right edge, stuck on their heels, outnumbered because of the collapse of the middle. Trying to make good decisions in bad situations. Redcliffe went there for a third. It didn’t work out, but all that meant was a crash play on the next tackle came down to whether Tom Starling could stop Daniel Saifiti one-on-one. Two more tries came with pin-point kicks behind the left side defence. On another day both of those tries would have been unlikely propositions. It wasn’t feeling like another day to that point.

Canberra were getting Canberra’d. The ‘Phins were slowing the ruck. Not through shenanigans but through contact. It’s usually an angle the Raiders are trying to push. But here they were standing with rucks moving like cooling lava. Redcliffe were moving with pace, scoring opportunistic tries, giving their players the confidence to back themselves to do audacious things. Like put in a short-side grubber while in contact on the fourth tackle. Or a chip inside to a crowd of a thousand, only for the one ‘Phin to catch it, grubber it, and it perfectly land.

Canberra were not good enough. Maybe the travel had caught up with them. Maybe they had bought into their own hype. Maybe the ‘Phins, with 58 points in 80 minutes of football against the Storm and then the Milk, were an engine that took a few weeks to rev and was now humming. Maybe this was going to be one of those days.

And then it became one of those days.

It changed because half time came and Stick apparently put a rocket up them. It changed because the ‘Phins helpfully decided to drop their completion rate from 82 to 69 per cent, most of which seemed to come in someone’s twenty. The right side defence got their shit into gear and for the most part kept the dam functioning.

But most of all it happened because Canberra juiced up their energy and re-oriented their attack. They found their penetration through the middle and started winning contact on both sides of the ball. What had been a 400m deficit in metres in the first half turned into a 500 metre surplus in the second. If the middle weren’t up to it for the first forty, they were utterly dominant in the second.

Joe Tapine was immense. He had 151m for the game (57 post contact), 87 of which came in the second half. He created a try for Ethan Strange because he was impossible to get down. Corey Horsburgh also had 84 metres in the second half (136m overall), impossible to get down because he’s too agile, a fancy footed reveler outrunning security at the races. Hudson Young, the best backrower in the competition, had an entire defence set on stopping him. In the second half he had 160m (196m overall), all of them tough as they come. He didn’t really get to run riot as he has in recent weeks. It didn’t matter. He just rolled up the sleeves and got to work. Him, Sav Tamale (102m in the second half, 143 overall) and the props were brutal.

And Canberra were more patient in allowing what that dominance created to present opportunities. That’s always a test with comebacks. You need a heap of points quick, and the tendency is to push in search of quick points. Canberra didn’t score until the 49th minute. They didn’t get within a try until the last quarter of the game. They didn’t tie it until the 65th minute. When they sealed it with Jamal Fogarty’s dummy-and-go, they’d scored five second half tries with only ever having to go as far as centre in search of space. The whole time they just stayed patient. Played to their strengths. Trusted they could find the points. They did it easy.

That is who this team is. They win contact in the middle. Then hit edges. Edges, not wings. At their best they don’t need to go that far. But when they hit edges there’s players moving at pace, hitting holes and breaking tackles. That requires the middle to provide that space. In the first half it didn’t. In the second it did, and Canberra took advantage.

Hosking and Strange scored in the middle, an extra step of patience from advantageous forays made by Fogarty and Huddo respectively on the edge. Matty Nicholson chipped when Matt Timoko had enough space on a shift to straighten the attack and cook Kodi Nikorima so well your Dad would appreciate the lack of blood. Seb Kris’ and Jamal Fogarty’s tries came from a defence overwhelmed by the ferocity of what they were being put through. It was heaven. It was glistening.

It was all second and third efforts. The eponymous vikings tearing into the enemy all hot blood and courage. No one was stopping. Hosking scored because he made the effort to be ready for the next play after being ignored on an inside line. Seb Kris was bumped off Fogarty’s kick and still got there to take advantage when the Hammer messed it up. These are stark examples, but in that second half Stick called for effort. He got it.

It does leave us in a bind. For the second week in a row the Raiders were slow to attend the game. For the second week in a row a middling team made them look amateur. For the second week in a row they simply dug in and fought their way out. It’s worrying and wonderful. There’s work to be done and brilliance to celebrate. It’s an anchor on what should be high times. Is the death of freedom in the Adriatic, or the days of wild abandon? (What is that? Shakespeare?)

Canberra have both problems and solutions. They have tests to come and those they’ve overcome. There is no hiding. They cannot play with such nonchalance against the Storm, or the Dogs, or any more, if they intend to be a contender. They must find a way to tell their story for 80 minutes, not just ducking in after the work has already begun.

They also must embrace that quiet resilience they showed in the second half. That patience and belief that anything is possible for these men. That in darkness the warmth of their connection will light the way. Canberra cannot hide behind chaos anymore. This team is good, these last two weeks are proof of it. But if they want to be great, then that’s another step. There will be an argument that days like this just put off a lesson they need to learn.What if they just did that without having to lose?

That’s a problem for nerds and Ricky Stuart. This is about winning. Winning despite. Despite the odds, despite yourself, despite the opposition being on one. Finding a way because there’s something innate in you that wants to, yearns to, be in the battle. If only because the blood rolling down your lip is how you know you’re alive. If only because the hug of celebration makes you feel like Bill Hicks was right when he said there’s no such thing as death, life is only a dream and we’re all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively.

The Canberra Raiders found a way today. Again. Next week we get to find out if they can do more. What a time to be alive.

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