Dear Diary,

My name is Sonny Bill Williams. Many nasty people have been calling me Sonny Dill or Money Bill. I just don’t get it though, man. Here was an opportunity to go to France to earn lots of money to do something I know nothing of. Stupid Willie, all he got was to drive down the road. Same old story. Here I am getting my ‘Williams’ tattoo tanned in Toulon while he slogs it out in Bondi. It’s tough in Sydney, man. So tough. I was getting a raw deal, what with those journos writing stories comparing my wages to gardeners and nurses and shit. They don’t have to train like I do. They get to do their job all the time, imagine if they were always off work like me and never able to actually contribute two weeks in a row.

It will be good learning to speak French. Then I’ll be able to speak two languages; French and Polynesian. Hopefully they don’t speak too much English in France as I never really mastered that one. Was probably a problem when I mistakenly asked for a 5 year deal when I meant to say I was only planning on staying for 5 months. Oh well, it was only a contract. If they wanted it to be permanent they should have offered to tattoo it onto some of the vacant space on my right arm. My left arm is booked out, though, but I still can’t find a major sponsor for underneath the name on my back. Lucky I didn’t get 11 tattooed onto my back instead, considering I will now be 13 or 12.

You see, no one understands how bored I was with league. Like, I’d achieved so much. I was a bench player when the Dogs won the comp in ’04 when I was a teenager. What else was there to do? I’ve played a few games here and there since, I made Joel Clinton look like piss but his hair looked mad, did it to a few others.

They won’t be able to cope with my shoulder charge in union. That’s my big weapon. I wonder why I don’t see them do it more often, that’ll show ‘em.

My offload too. That’ll kill them in rugby, it’s such a vital asset with all the space there is on the field.

So with all these skills, there just wasn’t anything left to achieve. Captaincy, nah bobcat was good at that. Playing for my country; well if Benjy doesn’t have to play, why do I? String a few matches together and play consistently? No that would be too uninteresting. Instead, I will test my wares in France and escape the bubble of my tough existence. We were doing badly anyway, it was no fun there, they’re no use to me anymore so what good am I to them. I’m only one player, they’ll get over it. Folksy has more to the game plan than throwing it to me, I think. He’s had enough games to practice without me being there. What are they so concerned about? I’m just a teammate, it’s not like I didn’t tell anyone.

I told Khoder, a close friend. I told Anthony, because he’s good at these things. They were good sounding boards, people to turn to for advice, honesty, integrity. Anthony said it’s pretty easy to just switch sports. Khoder told me it would be beneficial to play in France because my 70% gets bigger. These managers are so selfless. Rugby League needs more people like this guy. I trust him, he puts me first and he is so smart. He told me that once I walk out on a contract, all I was doing was breaching it. I told him that’s exactly what I was doing, heading for the beach, but he told me it meant I was walking out – which I was. Not even Reni, my bro, knew. I was walking. That was it. The Bulldogs had earned it.

First, they had the audacity to let so many players go so they could afford to keep me. Then, they signed me for 5 years! They tried to keep me for 5 years – it’s like solitary confinement for that long. This is why I trust Khoder; my old manager mentioned something like I’m a risk, it’s a smart deal for me. Stuff him. 5 years is too long for someone who has achieved so much in the game. Then they have the hide to only offer me like $450,000 a year. Rugby League should pay its players anything. Or at least pay me anything. They can afford to, it’s a strong game. There is a World Cup at the end of the year.

Anyway, Khoder told me to breach. There was nothing they could do. They would try to sub-pee on me – funny that, I wouldn’t have thought the NRL would behave like Todd Carney – but I would be a fugitive, untouchable and about to sign for Toulon. France will love me and there’s nothing them Bulldogs can do about it. Sucked into them for letting Asotasi, Mason, Anasta, Myles and O’Meley go to keep me under the cap. We should have stuck together for something special. This’ll teach them.

Anyway, it was an easy decision to leave in the end, although I know how Andrew Johns felt now 5 years ago – to stay or go for another challenge. Except I haven’t won 2 premierships, captained one, won all individual honours in the game, won all team honours in the game and lead point scoring statistics. I wonder why he didn’t leave. He must’ve really liked Newcastle, or felt sorry for his teammates. Actually, the gear was probably better there than at Moore Park.

So signing off before I make my debut this weekend. I can’t wait. Although I did find it a bit weird that at training the other day Tunga yelled something, ‘merde’, or something like that, when I started shoulder charging people. He went nuts. Then the players started laying on top of each other in the middle of our practice match, like a mass orgy every couple of plays. The speed of the ruck was terrible, the wrestle took forever, the referee kept a horrible ten metres, they let forward passes go, my bloody fullback decided to kick on the first and worse than that, they all forgot to keep the tackle count and screamed at me again when I hacked the ball away on the last! They play the game so funny here. Maybe it’s the language, or maybe there’s something I haven’t figured out yet. If Luke Rooney can do it, surely I can?