Sonny Bill Williams is about to play the most critical month of football of his entire career.
( Not to mention the impact he could have for the Kiwis at the RLWC )
In the next handful of matches - quite possibly his last in rugby league - he can silence every smart arse, every doubter, every headline writer who ever replaced the "S" of his initials with a dollar sign.
He can put every single soul who has ever questioned the 28-year-old's claim to greatness firmly back in their box ... by leading the Roosters to an NRL premiership.
The rocks occasionally thrown up from Williams are always far less than the diamonds, and in the 59th minute he busted the line, gunned downfield and sent his halfback, Mitchell Pearce, to the line for the match-winner.
It ensured the Roosters secured the minor premiership ahead of bitter inner-city rivals South Sydney, and it certainly made you wonder what looms for Williams in coming weeks.
For far too long, his abundant ability has been masked by too much talk concerning which club, which sport, which banal boxing bout he will next feature in. His next destination has been subterfuge to how good Williams actually is.
Those close to him believe he's headed back to rugby union, with a World Cup for the All Blacks in 2015 - and an appearance in the Sevens at the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro the following year - too tantalising to ignore.
Yet those who know Williams, and his manager Khoder Nasser, also advise that he is still yet to make up his mind. The pair of them keep everyone guessing, but now Williams has the chance to leave behind no doubt about his value as a league player.
By his own lofty standards, he's been quiet in the last month. The Titans ruffled him last Sunday, and the Roosters were subsequently embarrassed.
Early in Friday night's match, he raced up and tried to monster Greg Inglis, missed the target, and the Souths fullback scored the opening try. That was a rock.
Then came the diamonds.
Williams' influence doesn't necessarily come when he has the ball. When a swarm of defenders gravitated to him close to the line, Pearce sent James Maloney over unimpeded for the Roosters' first points.
Minutes later, it was Williams' enormous surge down the right side that provided the impetus for a four-pointer to makeshift centre Aidan Guerra in the corner.
In the second half, the missed shot on Inglis was rectified when he stung Souths back-rower Chris McQueen. Possible shoulder charge? Who cares?
Then he busted the line and then drew Inglis before putting Pearce away to secure the J.J. Giltinan Shield.
It was a finish to the regular season that seemed unfathomable before Christmas.
Back then, rookie Roosters coach Trent Robinson reckoned he didn't know if his side was a top-eight contender. Now they're up to their eyeballs in a possible premiership.
They will never admit it, but there's a secret place buried deep inside every league fan where they want it to be 'Souffs' and the 'Rorters' on grand final day.
Because as much as you might hate them, it could never be as much as they hate each other.
The game's arteries have been clogged all season with an ASADA investigation, Ben Barba, no shoulder charge, no fighting, Dugan, Fergo, Instagram selfies and an alarming number of neck tattoos.
In a month's time, the Burgess boys, Sutton-Reynolds, Pearce-Maloney, Crowe-Politis and more than a century of pure bile would be timely open-heart surgery.
But Williams is the subplot that most intrigues. He came off the bench for the Bulldogs' premiership in 2004, featured in a World Cup for the All Blacks in 2011, and played his part for the Chiefs in winning the Super Rugby title last year.
But he now has a chance to own an NRL premiership.
That will shut them up, even if it convinces him to go.
Stuff A. Webster
