There are a few certainties in Australian life: the magpies will swoop you, the sun will burn you, and every footy fan will complain that the AFL just isn’t what it used to be. And somewhere in that nostalgic whirlpool of arguments about the “good old days,” one truth keeps bobbing back to the surface: the AFL needs to bring back State of Origin.
State of Origin once meant something. It was pride. It was passion. It was Wayne Carey trying to flatten anything in a Big V jumper and Tony Modra soaring higher than current rental prices. It wasn’t about money, or fixture congestion, or “managing loads.” It was about state supremacy, and the bragging rights that lasted longer than the wait for an Essendon finals win.
There is no doubt that the AFL today is brilliant. I mean, I wouldn’t give up eight hours of my Saturday to watch our great game if it wasn’t. But it’s also become… polished. Marketable. Neat. State of Origin was none of those things. It was chaos in the best way: fierce, tribal, and often slightly unhinged. Players pulled on their state colours and suddenly, teammate or not, you were either with them or against them. It was beautiful carnage.
The AFL’s version of “representative footy” nowadays is a charity game every few years where nobody tackles above jogging pace. State of Origin wasn’t about being polite — it was about playing for the place that built you. For your junior club. For your home state. For your family who cheered you on from freezing sidelines week after week as a junior.
“But players are too fragile now!” some say. Sure, the game is faster and the bodies are more finely tuned than a Formula 1 car. But you know what? Formula 1 cars are still built to race. Give the players one game a year. Protect them, sure. But let them go. Let them feel the unfiltered joy (and terror) of lining up against their best mates — and trying to beat them into the turf for 120 minutes.
AFL tipping is BACK on The Roar for 2025! Get your tips in here.
Imagine watching Nick Daicos weave through traffic for Victoria, Jason Horne-Francis throwing his body around for South Australia, or Liam Ryan flying for a hanger in the Black Swan of WA. Imagine the tension. The build-up. The one-week social media civil wars.
And think about the kids. Right now, young fans grow up dreaming of premierships — which is great — but where’s the state pride? Where’s the moment when a kid in Kalgoorlie or Albury watches the best of their state wear the colours they grew up with and thinks, “that’s going to be me one day”?
Jason Horne-Francis is tackled. (Photo by Darrian Traynor/Getty Images)
Sure, there are a few logistical hurdles: scheduling, player welfare, and injuries. But if the AFL can organise Gather Round, Opening Round, and ten different “special rounds” a season, surely they can fit one real, roaring, blood-pumping Origin clash back in. If you need proof that a brutal, high-contact sport can still pull off an Origin series without the sky falling in, just look at the NRL. Every year, rugby league players smash each other to pieces in the State of Origin. They not only survive, but thrive. It’s the most-watched, most talked about part of the season. Fans live for it. Players dream of it. Coaches whinge about it — which, honestly, just makes it better. Sure, injuries happen. Tempers flare. But the NRL backs its players to handle it. They understand that Origin isn’t a burden; it’s the beating heart of the game. It builds legends. It fuels rivalries. It makes fans care more, not less.
Meanwhile, the AFL sits on a goldmine of interstate passion and treats it like a fragile piece of fine china. If the NRL can throw their biggest stars into three full-on battles a year and still come out stronger, what’s stopping the AFL from doing it once? One game. One weekend. One massive shot of pure, unfiltered state pride.
The perfect solution? A proper mid-season break. One week dedicated purely to State of Origin and nothing else. Three or four blockbuster Origin games across the country, packed stadiums, and the kind of fierce, state-vs-state passion we’ve all been missing. Then, the following week, give every AFL club a full bye. No games, no awkward fixturing — just a clean reset. Players who didn’t feature in Origin get two full weeks to rest and recover. Origin players get one week to shine for their state, one week to recharge. Everyone wins. It would break up the long slog of the AFL season perfectly, give fans something massive to rally around mid-year, and actually make the run to finals feel even bigger. Plus, it shows the players that representing your state is a reward, not a risk. And if we’re really cheeky, bring back the E. J. Whitten Legends Game too. If the NRL can pull off a brutal, mid-season Origin series every year, there’s no excuse for the AFL not to get creative. Honestly, it’s about time footy trusted itself to be great again.
The players would back it. The fans would turn out in droves. And the AFL would finally give us something we didn’t even realise we were starving for: a reminder that footy is about heart, not just stats.
Bring it back. Bring back the pride. Bring back the chaos. Bring back the reason footy fans argue loudly in pubs across Australia. Bring back State of Origin — before the next generation forgets that footy isn’t just a game. It’s where you’re from.
So come on, AFL. Bring Origin back. We’ve got the jerseys, the passion, and the eskies ready. All we need is the game.
