Poor old Tommy. Queenslanders die by State of Origin. Some New South Welshman care, others just want to see a decent spectacle. But Wednesday’s loss was the worst night of Tommy Raudonikis’ life.

Frankly, while all I care about from Origin is that Robbie Farah is fit enough to play on Friday night, if Origin is to stay alive as a contest, NSW needs to get the blood boiling again like it was in the 1990’s.

Who is today’s Mark Geyer? Paul Sironen? Chief Harragon? Geoff Toovey? Who?

NSW might not be good enough to find a Johns, Daley or Fittler, but there’s no reason they have to personify the most pathetic nickname in sport – the cockroaches – with a meek surrender.

It might be too farfetched to bring back Tommy.  After all, the man whose tactical sophistication went as far and wide as the “cattle dog” cry (start an all in blue in a scrum) and who initiated Trent Barret into State of Origin in 1997 by making a placid country boy skull three beers on the trot, harks from a bygone era.

But next year the coach has to be independent. Clearly Origin is about passion – Queensland ran out of players and still managed to win. Enough of the the ridiculous country retreats where the players think they are going into a battle for life and death. Let them ride the storm like Grand Final week. Soak it up realise what they are playing for.

Throw out the clipboard and go for the passion.

Next year, throw Laurie Daley and Andrew Johns in as the dream team. Send them into the cauldron. If there wasn’t a risk of Freddie walking into the Maroons hotel waving the game plan, I’d throw him in there too (assuming he’s no longer a Roosters coach by then!)

Imagine those titans of Origin – Meninga v Johns/Daley – going up against each other! Who wouldn’t want to play for them? Who wouldn’t feel obliged to bleed for them?

Wednesday night was rubbish. Origin isn’t dead. But it needs life.