Mitchellmoses
Banned
- Joined
- Oct 21, 2020
- Messages
- 484
- Reaction score
- 316
ARANA Taumata looks down at the mobile phone sitting on our table.
A jazzy, silver number resting beside car keys and sunnies. A phone that isn’t ringing.
“First time in my life,’’ he shrugs. “Back in the day, one club would punt me and, no sooner was I out the door when another was saying ‘Come play first grade with us’.
“No matter what happened, they called. My whole life that phone has been ringing.”
But not anymore.
No, sitting with League Central at a bustling, Terrigal cafe — located only minutes from a unit he now rents with his young family — Taumata is sipping coffee, nursing his daughter and opening up about life as league’s great wasted talent.
A New Zealand prodigy who, since signing that first NRL contract at 14, has churned through seven clubs, three States and a rap sheet all drinking, fighting, even stealing prescription pads to order Valium.
And all by age 25.
“My whole life, everything has come so easy,’’ the playmaker says by way of explanation. “Even during my last start at Penrith, I was on benders the night before games and nobody knew — nobody — because I’d play so well next day.
“Some of my performances, it’s scary to think I could play like that after partying all night Uleh. But the drinking, eventually it wears you down. Takes you dark places. For a while I was oozing darkness.”
And right on cue we’re supposed to tell you this isn’t a redemption story. No, maybe this is about growth. Or love.
A schoolboy devoured whole by professional sport.
But who are we kidding?
The whole point of this story is to get Taumata a contract. Returning him to the only thing he knows outside trouble.
Understanding, no, he will never fulfil the promise of a kid Wayne Bennett considered, privately, “the next Wally Lewis”.
But still there is still time to atone. To expand a resume that, right now, sees him holding stop/go signs around the Central Coast.
This, see, is how the great wasted talent lives.
Working, training and, after a year withdrawn from all things rugby league, driving three times a week to Newtown, where he plays NSW Cup.
“And I know I’m the problem,’’ Taumata says, bouncing little Maya, 2, on his knee.
“Know that just once I should’ve had the balls to stand up for myself — said ‘no’ to everything that was going on.
“But I didn’t. Which means, now, it’s not even about me anymore. It’s about my family, my daughter ... about setting things right for them.”
And, no, many of you still won’t care.
Unmoved by Taumata’s talk of slowing down. Growing up. Of that light bulb finally going off “when my phone stopped ringing”.
Taumata with Anthony Salvatore at a Townsville bar while the pair were at the Cowboys in 2010.Source: News Limited
For if the recent Mitchell Pearce saga has taught us anything, it’s that Jack the Lad is battling an image problem. Increasingly, fans thinking as much of boozy footballers as that girl in the yellow dress.
Yet for those of us whose own histories are more chequered than a pair of chef’s pants, there is something wonderful — almost righteous — about rugby league and her ability to forgive.
Think Mark Geyer, Wendell Sailor and Reni Maitua. Albert Kelly, Willie Mason, even Anthony Watmough.
And as for Jarryd Hayne ... well, he’s gone from dodging Kings Cross bullets to saving an entire state.
But Taumata?
“When I was sacked by Melbourne, that should’ve been the turning point,’’ he says.
“They kept me on for counselling. Said if I got right, I’d get another contract.”
And then, his phone rang.
“Yeah, Wests Tigers,’’ he says. “They told me I could be playing alongside Benji Marshall within the month ...”
And so, our boy bolted. Course unfinished, issues unresolved.
Indeed, chat with this son of a political journalist long enough and you’ll hear how his incredible talents have alternated — erratically — between blessing and curse since the day he tasted both beer and first grade footy.
Taumata with his family in Girraween in 2012.Source: News Limited
“I was 14,’’ Taumata shrugs. “Playing Premier League in Wellington, which was the highest you could go back then.
“After games, everyone went to the Leagues Club and, with no security around, I’d drink. Two beers and I was gone but, still, I was part of the culture.”
Same deal in Brisbane, where he joined the NRL squad at 17.
“And I know people will say ‘oh, you shouldn’t be so easily led’,’’ he says. “But when you’re a kid and men encourage you to go for a beer — you go.”
And go Taumata did.
Taumata leaves Parramatta Court charged with stealing a prescription slip, while playing for Penrith.Source: News Limited
Through 10 years, three states and who knows how many hangers-on? Staggering through Brisbane, the Roosters, Canterbury and Melbourne. Then Wests Tigers, North Queensland and, finally, in 2012, the office of Penrith
supremo Phil Gould.
“First time a footy official gave it to me straight,’’ Taumata concedes. “Gus said I was going to kill myself. Maybe kill somebody else. I broke down right there in front of him.”
And within months, he was gone. Not just from Gould, or Sydney, but all things rugby league. Moving with partner Annika and their baby girl to a beachside hideaway where “my old life, it couldn’t follow me”.
And all by age 25.
Taumata accepts his behavioural problems have all but ended his NRL career.Source: News Corp Australia
Yet still, you have to ask Taumata if he fears the dream is dead?
“Every day,’’ he deadpans. “I know, if given a chance, I can still play NRL because that’s never been the issue. The issue has always been me.
“So, you know, I’m hoping. Determined to do something with the years I have left.
“I mean, you always hear people saying, ‘Oh, if I had my time again I’d do this differently, do that differently’. But having your time over ... you can’t, can you?”
ROTTEN TAUMATA? THE CLUBS:
2006 BRONCOS Sacked for disciplinary breach.
2007 ROOSTERS Sacked for disciplinary breach.
2008 BULLDOGS Sacked for allegedly breaking another man’s jaw in off-field incident
2009 STORM Sacked over alcohol-fuelled brawl
2010 TIGERS Walks out to join Cowboys
2010 COWBOYS Released at end of season
A jazzy, silver number resting beside car keys and sunnies. A phone that isn’t ringing.
“First time in my life,’’ he shrugs. “Back in the day, one club would punt me and, no sooner was I out the door when another was saying ‘Come play first grade with us’.
“No matter what happened, they called. My whole life that phone has been ringing.”
But not anymore.
No, sitting with League Central at a bustling, Terrigal cafe — located only minutes from a unit he now rents with his young family — Taumata is sipping coffee, nursing his daughter and opening up about life as league’s great wasted talent.
A New Zealand prodigy who, since signing that first NRL contract at 14, has churned through seven clubs, three States and a rap sheet all drinking, fighting, even stealing prescription pads to order Valium.
And all by age 25.
“My whole life, everything has come so easy,’’ the playmaker says by way of explanation. “Even during my last start at Penrith, I was on benders the night before games and nobody knew — nobody — because I’d play so well next day.
“Some of my performances, it’s scary to think I could play like that after partying all night Uleh. But the drinking, eventually it wears you down. Takes you dark places. For a while I was oozing darkness.”
And right on cue we’re supposed to tell you this isn’t a redemption story. No, maybe this is about growth. Or love.
A schoolboy devoured whole by professional sport.
But who are we kidding?
The whole point of this story is to get Taumata a contract. Returning him to the only thing he knows outside trouble.
Understanding, no, he will never fulfil the promise of a kid Wayne Bennett considered, privately, “the next Wally Lewis”.
But still there is still time to atone. To expand a resume that, right now, sees him holding stop/go signs around the Central Coast.
This, see, is how the great wasted talent lives.
Working, training and, after a year withdrawn from all things rugby league, driving three times a week to Newtown, where he plays NSW Cup.
“And I know I’m the problem,’’ Taumata says, bouncing little Maya, 2, on his knee.
“Know that just once I should’ve had the balls to stand up for myself — said ‘no’ to everything that was going on.
“But I didn’t. Which means, now, it’s not even about me anymore. It’s about my family, my daughter ... about setting things right for them.”
And, no, many of you still won’t care.
Unmoved by Taumata’s talk of slowing down. Growing up. Of that light bulb finally going off “when my phone stopped ringing”.
For if the recent Mitchell Pearce saga has taught us anything, it’s that Jack the Lad is battling an image problem. Increasingly, fans thinking as much of boozy footballers as that girl in the yellow dress.
Yet for those of us whose own histories are more chequered than a pair of chef’s pants, there is something wonderful — almost righteous — about rugby league and her ability to forgive.
Think Mark Geyer, Wendell Sailor and Reni Maitua. Albert Kelly, Willie Mason, even Anthony Watmough.
And as for Jarryd Hayne ... well, he’s gone from dodging Kings Cross bullets to saving an entire state.
But Taumata?
“When I was sacked by Melbourne, that should’ve been the turning point,’’ he says.
“They kept me on for counselling. Said if I got right, I’d get another contract.”
And then, his phone rang.
“Yeah, Wests Tigers,’’ he says. “They told me I could be playing alongside Benji Marshall within the month ...”
And so, our boy bolted. Course unfinished, issues unresolved.
Indeed, chat with this son of a political journalist long enough and you’ll hear how his incredible talents have alternated — erratically — between blessing and curse since the day he tasted both beer and first grade footy.
“I was 14,’’ Taumata shrugs. “Playing Premier League in Wellington, which was the highest you could go back then.
“After games, everyone went to the Leagues Club and, with no security around, I’d drink. Two beers and I was gone but, still, I was part of the culture.”
Same deal in Brisbane, where he joined the NRL squad at 17.
“And I know people will say ‘oh, you shouldn’t be so easily led’,’’ he says. “But when you’re a kid and men encourage you to go for a beer — you go.”
And go Taumata did.
Through 10 years, three states and who knows how many hangers-on? Staggering through Brisbane, the Roosters, Canterbury and Melbourne. Then Wests Tigers, North Queensland and, finally, in 2012, the office of Penrith
supremo Phil Gould.
“First time a footy official gave it to me straight,’’ Taumata concedes. “Gus said I was going to kill myself. Maybe kill somebody else. I broke down right there in front of him.”
And within months, he was gone. Not just from Gould, or Sydney, but all things rugby league. Moving with partner Annika and their baby girl to a beachside hideaway where “my old life, it couldn’t follow me”.
And all by age 25.
Yet still, you have to ask Taumata if he fears the dream is dead?
“Every day,’’ he deadpans. “I know, if given a chance, I can still play NRL because that’s never been the issue. The issue has always been me.
“So, you know, I’m hoping. Determined to do something with the years I have left.
“I mean, you always hear people saying, ‘Oh, if I had my time again I’d do this differently, do that differently’. But having your time over ... you can’t, can you?”
ROTTEN TAUMATA? THE CLUBS:
2006 BRONCOS Sacked for disciplinary breach.
2007 ROOSTERS Sacked for disciplinary breach.
2008 BULLDOGS Sacked for allegedly breaking another man’s jaw in off-field incident
2009 STORM Sacked over alcohol-fuelled brawl
2010 TIGERS Walks out to join Cowboys
2010 COWBOYS Released at end of season
Lol the next Wally Lewis?? Skeleton said the same thing about walker last year
