Konrad Hurrell, this is the time to shine.
Twenty years of age, in only his second season of Rugby League, life can’t get much better for him. With a start alongside Jerome Ropati in the centres for Sunday’s encounter with Manly, the Leo has already ousted Kristin Inu.
Such a rapid rise to the top so soon, yet he’s no spoiled brat. Hard work appears to his modus operandi. A flake he is not. Good, bad or otherwise, you can rely on the young man to give his all for the team’s lot.
Tough as teak, he’s not to be marked by the meek, an attacking force to be reckoned with, the New Zealand Warriors may have found the answer to the nightmare that has been the troublesome right centre position.
Like the Sahara, this positional landscape has been barren for so long. The Auckland based club had looked endlessly as they searched for a saviour, on the never-never it was but a dream, the sands of the hourglass were on their last drops of aspiration and desperation, but hope springs eternal and out of the desert storm eventually appeared an oasis in the form of Hurrell.
A strapping lad, 6ft and 100 kilos of youthful muscle bound exuberance, he tore asunder the best the Toyota Cup had in 2011. The NRL, though, is where the big boys come out to play. No black hole here to float around aimlessly amid the frozen, frigid, emptiness as a large vacuum, where there isn’t a star in sight, sucks the life from your attacking glee.
So the time has come to take the leap, to make his acquaintance with the big time, to meet the real stars, making an impact defensively as well as in attack, showing that there is an all-rounder lurking within.
It’s all very well to run in tries from far and wide, but a first grader is only as good as the weakest aspect of his game. He has got the nod ahead of Inu. While Inu may win his side a contest on rare occasions, a good majority of the time he appears to sleepwalk his way through matches. This Hurrell seemingly shows no sign of doing. Sure, he is not, as yet, a proven match winner at the highest level, but there is only one way to become that champion, and that is to get onto the park and do it.
His pre-season form was immaculate, his reward is nigh. But remember, pre-season form more often than not counts for nothing. It is time for the former rugby player to step up, take up the reins, to terrorise, to mock, pouring plentiful dollops of scorn upon the defensive qualities of his foe from the west - the wild wild west, where men lie in wait, where they no longer down a beer and break open a cigar, the night before; for there are livelihoods at stake, they care - rendering them a hapless quivering wreck of transparent orthodoxy, sweltering their intentions in a fug like environment, leaving them unable to push air, let alone the weight of the dynamic frame of Hurrell back in the tackle.
But, hey, there’s no pressure.
With a mind that inhabits the abode of a young body, the opportunities are boundless. Limits need not apply; the applicant has better things to do with his time than spend his days pondering what cannot be achieved.
All Hurrell has to do now is to reach out and grasp those chances. This is something he has been doing with aplomb thus far.