I'm a British rugby union expert and I went to my first State of Origin game: Here's everything I learnt about the most brutal rivalry in sport... and why we need to bring it to the UK

Before the mayhem began, they played a tune inside the MCG which perfectly set the tone for what was to follow – ‘Let’s go to war’. It summed up the appeal of this gladiatorial blockbuster.

For this State of Origin first-timer; the event did not disappoint. It is a wild ride of a viewing experience. As the rugby union correspondent of the UK Daily Mail, it was an irresistible detour between England matches in Tokyo and New Zealand. I had watched on television several times in the past, but never witnessed a match first-hand. It was truly epic.

In Melbourne, there wasn’t much to give away that the city was due to host a showpiece fixture in the sporting calendar in this part of the world. One billboard on the way in from the airport was about the only give-away. As a mid-week match, supporters had to time their journey south from the competing states, so there weren’t many around until game day.

When they showed up, Queensland dominated. To the uninitiated, it felt like they were the popular choice and true superpower, with New South Wales – despite being the nearer state geographically – being stuck on the margins, eclipsed by a maroon army.

As a Brit, the thought occurred that if Origin features so much on-field aggravation and conflict, maybe it would be the same in the stands and the streets nearby. Would there be crowd trouble? There was no sign of any problems at all. There was banter, but that was it. Maybe that’s because alcohol consumption is less extreme than it is at major sport in our country.

It was interesting to note how much mixing of fans took place around the city. There would be groups of friends in rival colours, or couples with one in blue and one in maroon. It seemed relatively harmonious. Another eye-catching factor was the demographic; not just young men but all age groups, male and female, and an ethnically diverse gathering. It was an indication of how Origin seemingly captures all areas of Australian society.

When the teams were announced before kick-off, it was amusing to hear the soundtrack of boos. Nobody appeared to be cheering. It was as if all energy was used to taunt the opposition rather than acclaim their own players and coaches. Billy Slater received by far the biggest tirade of negativity from the stands, which is presumably a reflection of his high standing in the game, making him a favourite target; a pantomime villain.

The fact the game was taking place in Melbourne shows that the NRL are engaged in an expansion campaign. In the UK, rugby league is restricted to a narrow northern corridor. We would have a clash between, say, Wigan and Leeds at Wembley, and it would generate a mass migration to the capital, but there is not the same feel of a mega event.

Origin is not well known in the UK, outside the league strongholds. It doesn’t really register with the wider public. But those who see it find it a stunning, primal spectacle. It’s just so tough, so overtly aggressive. League is like that, but when these quality teams collide it is ramped up to the max as a demonstration of just-about legitimate violence.

This game was on the edge but didn’t often go over-board. Two years ago, a group of us watched one game while in Sydney and wondered how there weren’t fatalities. Within the first 10 minutes, there were just so many high shots leading to concussions and players being carried off, not moving. It was savage.

The MCG encounter had some flashpoints though and the reaction to them is telling. The crowd love it. There was no need for the guy on the tannoy to encourage some noise – as he regularly had to do – when it all started kicking off. One scrap early in the second half led to tunes being played in tribute; ‘I’m about to lose control and I think I like it’, followed by ‘you’ve got to fight for your right to party’. Physicality and confrontation is celebrated. Why not?

It brought to mind a previous visit in 2013 when the-then captain of New South Wales committed so many offences in quick succession that – as an outsider, unfamiliar with the event – it felt like he would have to be arrested, let alone sent off. Instead, from memory, he escaped any on-field action at all and it was speculated that he might be put on report. Might. Astonishing.

That in turn led to an agonised debate about violence in the game and a stark headline in Sydney: ‘NRL bans biff’. There was uproar. It was even raised in parliament. Clearly, Australians don’t take kindly to being told that they can’t fight!

There were times on Wednesday night where it seemed as if the ball wasn’t needed. Just let them all smash each other – never mind the scoreboard. There was such a desire to make statement shots, whether or not the victim was in possession at the time. The antagonists and wind-up merchants are clearly adored as much as the supreme athletes and creative masters.

What is clear to a foreign visitor is that these matches matter so much. Every year, it grips large swathes of the host country.

The state-versus-state rivalry is something we don’t have an equivalent of back at home. People care more about inter-city sporting combat; such as when teams from Manchester and Liverpool clash in football (soccer). Cricket is based on counties and there is a real edge when Lancashire and Yorkshire face each other, but it is nothing like this.

Origin feels on one hand like a ‘derby’, such is the familiarity and tension between the sides, but also like international sport, given the enormous scale of it and the mass-market interest. In league, it is undoubtedly the greatest show of all – utterly over-shadowing any World Cup Final.

There were 90,000 people at the MCG, on a Wednesday night, many of whom had travelled from a long way away to be there. That’s big-time. It was grand and glitzy, from the light show before kick-off to the super skills on display throughout, against a backdrop of endless, wall-to-wall advertising. But many tickets were a bargain, so organisers are clearly trying to ensure it remains an event for the masses. Good on them for that.

All in all, as a passing visitor, this was a bucket-list occasion to savour. It is ferociously compelling. Next time, never mind Melbourne or Perth or elsewhere in Australia, look north and bring a game to London or Manchester. We’ll take it and learn to love it too.