Josh Papalii’s mind is a dossier of childhood prison visits and NRL rivals, his body an athletic marvel

Josh Papalii is buzzing around the Raiders dressing shed, any dressing shed, before any game. Singing. Pestering. A mulleted man child carrying on like the proverbial pork chop, his mind seemingly anywhere but the game at hand.

But beneath the locks, laughs and driving Ricky Stuart up the change room wall, the switch has already been flicked.

The 120-kilo frame that flies over corner posts, nails 40-metre field goals off both feet and mows down halfbacks, is idling at the ready.

One of the NRL’s more remarkable footballing brains, with a Rain Man-like registry of each and every opposing player, has already gone to work.

Thinking of mum Luama, who held the Papalii clan together as they bounced from one housing commission flat to another, one week’s pay cheque to the next. Dad Patrick, whose prison visit days rank among Papalii’s earliest memories. Then his own little family of three – not least four-year-old Noah, who was sent off to his first day of school as a mini-Papalii, freshly shorn mullet and all.

Papalii revels in his many reputations, unfounded or otherwise.

Regularly jokes that he can’t read or write before unveiling rare rugby league intelligence. Almost takes pleasure in lagging at the back of fitness drills, before taking flight. Lives a life as hard as any on the field, yet tells a tale of startling tenderness off it.

It’s all part of the Josh Papalii story.

‘The one secret my parents still hold on to’

Papalii doesn’t know what happened. The memories still come back, and still serve their own purpose, but they don’t talk about it.

“That‘s probably the one secret that my parents are still holding on to,” Papalii says of Patrick’s incarceration during the mid-90s.

“And it‘s the one thing I don’t ask as well. I still have memories of going into a New Zealand prison, it’d be one of my earliest memories, of me and my little brother going to see my dad.

“My mum‘s holding us and legit, I feel like I just woke up but from a bad dream when it comes back to me. But it’s the one thing my parents don’t talk about and I don’t think we ever will, to be honest.

“Do I want to know what happened to land Dad in there? Probably not. But it‘s obviously a memory I’ve carried with me for a long time and it’s part of our story. I know that.”

By design, Papalii’s story is never far from reach. Raised in Woodridge south of Brisbane, Papalii still readily recalls considering himself a five-year-old man of the house when he, Luama and brother John first arrived from Auckland. Patrick and two younger sisters, Etina and Crystal, would land a few years later.

But for those first few formative years, Papalii remembers “just going from one cousins’ houses to other cousins in housing commission, one random house to another, living pay cheque to pay cheque”.

“It still makes me emotional now, my mum‘s a hardworking lady.

“I understand both my mum and dad, they came from tough upbringings. He did what he did and went off the rails. He had a problem with alcohol at one point.

“And I was kind of aware of this as a kid because I‘m the oldest in my family and I took a bit of responsibility to try and get my family out of that, to try and provide. I’m pretty sure I’ve done that. It’s all about looking after my parents, my in-laws and my own little family.

“Those tough years, they don’t define us. But it is something we went through and overcame. Every family has their issues and we had ours, but we‘re all good now and in a good spot.”

Papalii bought his folks a house in Logan a few years ago, while his wife Sepa’s family have set themselves up in Redbank, 20 minutes away. Brother John – who was sacked by the Raiders and narrowly avoided jail time in another, long-gone lifetime – remains down in Canberra but will soon return to Queensland.

Papalii’s roots in Logan – and a childhood of backyard footy, squabbling and sparring with cousins, including champion heavyweight Alex Leapai – endure to this day. Woodridge High was just “one big family reunion, I had 300 cousins at that place”.

Former NRL cult hero Mark Tookey, and renowned Raiders and Broncos talent scout Brian ‘Pinky’ Edwards, first spotted undersized kids ending up as bugs on Papalii’s windshield when he was 13. Between them, they drove him to and from Souths Logan training to ensure he stayed in Canberra’s catchment.

Papalii eventually made his way down the nation’s capital on a small deal at 16, trying and often failing to navigate a bus timetable to Raiders training. He billeted with Linda and Greg Simpson, who kept homesickness at bay until the entire Papalii clan moved south in 2012, to ensure his burgeoning career with Canberra did not go by the wayside.

One day though, the rough and tumble region where Papalii was raised will draw him home for good.

“I feel like I represent all these kids who can‘t make it out of Logan,” he says.

“I do it for them. That‘s what pushes me every day. I owe a lot to Logan and Woodridge. Every year, every month I go back, that’s where I feel like I’m representing a lot of the hood kids. You end up carrying the place with you. Even now, whenever I go home, I never want to come back to Canberra. It’s part of who I am.”

Papalii has had his own trials and tribulations en route to becoming one of the game’s elite. Drink driving charges in 2017 cost him a Kangaroos appearance and came after a couple of other minor incidents behind the wheel.

But mostly Papalii has kept his nose clean. Just as well. He already does things on the footy field a big man just wasn’t meant to do.

The beast and the brain

For one, front-rowers aren’t meant to fly. And they’re not supposed to have an internal rolodex of right-hand carries, left-foot steps, overs and unders lines on anyone who pops up in an opposing scrum.

First, to the God-given gifts. And the Instagram post shoved in Papalii’s face to begin this interview.

“What’s doing? When did you learn how to Photoshop?”

“Oh man,” Papalii begins, admiring the ample frame soaring over the corner post, beyond the horizontal aside from his right arm, which is destined to plant the ball just beyond the tryline.

“When I was sponsored by New Balance (in 2019), they hadn't had a post from me in a long time and I was there thinking, ’I can’t just give them a shit photo of me or shoes or something.

“So I got our (digital) media guy at the time, Tommy Logan, to come and stand in the corner and we took five of them and that was the winner. I couldn't give them a crap photo.”

Jack Wighton has a different explanation for the aerial acrobatics, another take on the teammate he’s known for more than a decade.

“We‘d play games at training, 10 on 10, wingers practice and that, backline stuff,” Wighton says.

“And Papa had to get involved, he‘d park himself on the wing and call for kicks, long balls, whatever he could get, and he’d pull out stuff like that all the time.

“Dead set, I’ve seen him kick 40-metre field goals at training. Off both feet. He’s a freak.”

For all his natural talent though, Papalii’s most absurd abilities may just be between the ears.

“I watch a lot of footy,” he shrugs. “Say I play a Friday night game, if I’m not having a beer with the team, I’ll watch it again that night. Then again in the morning and again on Saturday afternoon. Probably one more time on Sunday, too. Then the other games.”

Papalii is taking it all in on the family lounge. No notes. All up top, he explains, with a knowing tap of his temple.

“You say a player‘s name, I’ve kind of got my notes in my head,” Papalii says. “Manly, I know Marty Taupau carries the ball in his left hand and he loves skipping off his left foot with a right-[hand] palm. Payne Haas, he skips to the left with a right-hand carry and he runs more overs lines.

“And all forwards have a lapse in ‘D’ somewhere, I just try and find that.

“But the video room downstairs? Never. The coaching staff actually have a board of how many times you’ve attended and I’m at the bottom with nothing next to my name. It’s just the way I do things and Whitey (assistant coach Brett White) knows that. His big thing is, be a leader but do it the way that works for you.”

Stuart, too, encourages what Papalii dubs his on-field “exploring” and is always pushing he and front-row partner Joe Tapine to chance their arm a bit more at the line.

“The message is around keep trying to add a pass, keep offloading. Just be ourselves out there. I think that he hates us just limiting ourselves or thinking all we have to do is lay the platform.

“I feel like players these days can do whatever. You’ve got the likes of Payne Haas who can play 80 minutes if he wants, there’s so much skill in the game. So I just like being better than my opposition. My way’s just doing more than them, getting creative, I guess.”

New Raiders half Jamal Fogarty has seen how competitive, and “creative”, Papalii can get. Has the limited edition Budgy Smugglers to prove it.

Fogarty is still stopped in the street by punters as “the guy who Josh Papalii ankle-tapped” when he was tryline-bound for the Titans in 2020. With generous humour, he starred alongside champion sprinter Patrick Johnson in a two-minute piss-take of himself as “the world’s slowest halfback” after being mowed down by a man with 35kg on him. In Fogarty’s defence, Papalii was clocked at 31km/h as he pulled off one of the all-time try-saving efforts.

“It’s been pretty good for my profile, to be honest,” Fogarty says.

“I got a spray from Jordan Rapana when it happened, he was giving me a mouthful and that’s when I realised it was Papa who had run me down. I got a free pair of Budgy Smugglers too; not everyone’s got their face on a pair of speedos, so I’m pretty happy with how it’s all worked out.

“Even with that whole chase though, I didn't realise how much of an absolute athlete he is until I got down here with him in the pre-season. The repeat efforts he has in him, given his size, is pretty unbelievable.”

Not that it always shows on the training paddock. Aside from flying touchdowns, 40-metre field goals, and the solo chip-and-chase he performed in the rain prior to sitting down with CodeSports, Papalii describes his own training approach as “relaxed”.

“I’ve tried poking him and stirring him up but he doesn’t budge, the big fella,” Fogarty laughs. “He’s just Josh Papalii.”

Fogarty’s not the first and probably won’t be the last halfback to take the long road to this realisation. And Ricky Stuart will always be the No.7 holding a special place in Papalii’s horse-sized heart.

Sticky, sprays and the backflip

Don Furner didn’t like the rule. Didn’t stop him making the most of it, though, after Papalii had signed a three-year deal to join Stuart at Parramatta in 2014; press release issued and all.

“I remember Ricky coming down for one of his golf days (the annual fundraiser for the Ricky Stuart Foundation) when he was coaching the Eels,” the longtime Canberra CEO begins.

“And I walked up to him on the putting green and I said, ‘Mate, Papalii’s going to backflip on you and sign with us’.

“I don't know how we even got to that point, it shouldn’t have because he never wanted to go. We had that June 30 rule back then – it was a silly rule – when you were able to renege on a contract (before the end of financial year deadline).

“I can't recall the exact details of those negotiations, I think we either gave Papa more money or an extra year or two, but it was well spent whatever it was.

“And on the green, Sticky‘s just given me a very blunt, ’F--k off’, to start. And then, ’Yeah, if I was you, I’d have another crack at keeping him too’.

“Sticky himself left Parra for us and as soon as he walks in, says, ‘Geez, I’m glad Papa flipped on that contract’. He knew what he had. And it’s been fantastic ever since, you want another 25 like him.”

If Logan made Papalii the man he is today, then Stuart is responsible more than any other for Papalii the player, and making sure he’s remained a Raider through 240 NRL games and counting.

Only Laurie Daley (244), Jarrod Croker (291) and Jason Croker (318) have played more for Canberra.

Stuart, and dollars that made a lot of sense at the time, were why Papalii signed with Parramatta. His family and ties to Canberra eventually saw him stay put, before smoking the peace pipe with Stuart when he too was drawn back to the club.

“You know, my kids call him Uncle Ricky every time they see him,” Papalii smiles.

“He makes me feel comfortable and he has been the biggest thing about being here in Canberra. Those first couple of years we were a little bit rocky though. We were probably still working each other out a bit but I like the honesty he brings and I can be honest with him too. We don‘t dance around anything.”

Papalii laughs long and loud when asked how he goes about getting back in Stuart’s good books after copping a bake. There have been plenty after all. No need for that, he grins.

If the softly-spoken prop feels he’s been wronged, he’ll go back at Stuart; one of Queanbeyan’s more cantankerous exports and, in his heyday, handy bantamweights. “That’s why we’ve got a leadership group,” Papalii cackles. “It’s easier to win the argument when you've got five other dudes with you.”

Stuart’s famed sprays have mostly been warranted, well-timed and hit their mark. None more than the one that truly launched Papalii’s career; some feat given he had already played eight Tests for Australia and nine Origins for Queensland at the time.

“The biggest one I’ve ever copped off him was in 2018. I had an absolute shocker against Manly; f--k, I must’ve dropped five balls,” Papalii says.

“Every Monday we had a weigh-in and I was 3kg over my bodyweight. And he's told me, ’That’s not good enough, back to second grade for you’. I went home, had a little cry about it, I was blowing up [saying], ‘I want to leave this place’.

“I went back to Mounties and actually had a decent game and then from there, Sticky called the coach and said, ‘Get Papa playing lock’. That spun me out, I’d never played anywhere but on the edge. But I’ve been in the middle ever since that day and I love it.”

Unleashing the beast

And so, back to game day.

If the Raiders are at home in Canberra, it’s a full 18 holes of golf with Jordan Rapana – “we take three water bottles each and use the carts so we’re not too gassed” – to start the day.

If they’re on the road – like this weekend’s trip to Townsville, for which Papalii and Tapine both have exemptions to travel after vaccine hesitations – fitting in a hit gets a little tougher. But otherwise, Papalii’s routine stays the same.

“As I’m driving to the ground or on the bus, I‘m thinking of all the struggles that my parents have been through,” he says.

“Everything my siblings have been through and suddenly, ‘F--k it’s game day now, we’re on’.

“I‘m still mucking around in the sheds, I’ve been told so many times to shut the f--k up before a game.

“But inside I‘m thinking about the game and my family; their forwards, our forwards, where their weak link is, and I’m already there.”