BY Nathan Hindmarsh
FIRST time I ever met Nathan Cayless he brushed me. Honestly. Walked right by like, somehow, he was blind to this scrawny Robertson bushie standing before him nodding and saying g'day.
That was 16 years ago. I was playing SG Ball and Nath, only 18 months older, was already training with Presidents Cup.
He had an aura about him then. He still does. Which is why I want to dedicate this column to one of the most courageous, yet misunderstood, footballers I've ever known.
You see, every time I see a headline shouting "Drop Cayless" or "Strip Cayless of Captaincy" the same question rolls over and over inside my head. Why? It's like the critics shouting this nonsense aren't watching the same game as me. Like they aren't seeing our skipper like I do from only metres away.
So today, after 203 games together, I want to let you have a look through my eyes - let you see Nathan Cayless carting the ball out of our quarter when I'm having a bludge set; see him playing on with broken arms, bung knees, torn hamstrings. See him still going against Cronulla last weekend with the game gone and that head wound requiring six stitches.
But that's Nath. He never gives up.
And that's why after 14 years, two Grand Finals and a World Cup triumph, you can still find the big unit alone in our gym most nights, working on a routine he reckons will improve his game. Why after training he has an ice bath and hot Painaway tub. Why he stretching alone at home for hours each day so, come the 80th minute, his body won't let down the guy inside or out.
This is what the critics don't understand. They see those old knees charging but not the daily physio sessions required to keep them rolling. They see the arm pushing off another defender without feeling the metal plates beneath the skin.
Never truly getting what it means for a footballer to have his bookend leader win him a game with his first ever field goal.
For years people have asked what keeps me going in games. Well, the truthful answer is Nathan Cayless. Especially late when I'm stuffed, he's stuffed, and there he goes running again. It's why whenever people approach me afterwards saying "great effort Hindy, you never stopped", I always ask them if they watched our No. 8.
But still Nath's best attribute remains his aura. He walks into a room and you feel it change. Gives a stare at training and players shut up. And switch on.
Like a big silverback he doesn't need to say anything, for everyone knows he's boss.
And it's been that way ever since 2000. When aged 22, and with only 11 run-on games to his credit, our coach Brian Smith made him captain of the Eels. Of course, there were a lot of people scratching their heads at that one too. Asking how Smithy would choose a young bloke from Wentworthville ahead of Jim Dymock and Jason Smith. Ahead of Gary Larson and Dean Schiffiliti.
But for those of us inside that Eels squad, who played, trained and busted a gut alongside him, there wasn't even a choice to be made. Nathan Cayless was, and still is, our greatest leader.
That's how the bloke has always looked through my eyes, anyway. All courage and calm. Authority and grit. Tearing his hamstring in that first charge of the 2009 Grand Final before going on to make another dozen.
It's why Nathan Cayless is going to be remembered among the Eels' greatest players. Among the game's most inspirational leaders, who come Monday night at Parramatta Stadium will still be giving his all as the crowd counts down those final 10 seconds.
Honestly, I could never imagine running on to the field behind anyone else.
