We need more like him, and while he's been labelled a 'grub' - whatever that means - he's actually one of the most important figures in the New Zealand game and we should all be rooting for him to find a way to make it to France in 2023.
The influence of Coles sits on many fronts. He connects with fans on an almost primal level because he plays as if it's a battle for survival.
Who doesn't love the commitment he brings, the passion he has to represent those who matter most to him and to play at and beyond his limits?
That is the essence of sport; the only thing that really matters. Win, lose, or draw, players always walk away winners when they invest their soul, sacrifice themselves for the greater good and then no matter the result, have the strength to accept their fate.
Coles is all pain and fury when he plays but he's also one of the first to have his hand out and a big smile when he's vanquished.
His desperation to be part of a Hurricanes victory against the Blues earlier this year led to him chasing Beauden Barrett around Eden Park and there wasn't a better moment all competition than when his eyes lit up and his ears pinned back when he realised that fate had been kind enough to leave him one-on-one with his old mate.
The joy when he scored was unadulterated and yet when the Blues bounced back and ground out the victory, the defining image became the embrace between Coles and Barrett, which should become the poster for what sport is really all about.
The only other contender would be the image of Coles checking on the health of Sam Cane when the All Blacks captain was laid out on the turf after a collision with Jordie Barrett, when the Hurricanes played the Chiefs.
Coles cares about winning, but he cares about his fellow humans more, and that makes him a sporting role model: a player to inspire and guide the next generation as he has that rare ability to invest himself entirely in the contest and yet not let the game or its outcomes define who he is.
New Zealand's parental community who crave sporting greatness for their children don't seem to be able to strike or even understand that balance.
It is possible to play one way and live another, something Coles, who is a father of three and genuine pillar of the community sort of bloke, understands a thousand times better than those who judge him a bad influence in one breath and then yell at their children from the sidelines with the next.
There's a more basic level on which he connects and that's as someone who creates an obvious sense of tribalism when he plays.
The professional game, Super Rugby in particular, needs authenticity and nothing brings that better than a bloke like Coles playing on the edge.
He cares so we care – it's that simple, and more than ever the game's stakeholders need people like Coles who entice fans to invest something of themselves in return. He's the rugby equivalent of KiwiSaver – whatever emotional investment he makes, fans feel compelled to match it.
And then there is the value he brings away from the prying eyes of the TV cameras, guiding and mentoring the next generation of players in a manner that is supportive, encouraging and then entirely sobering and grounding when it needs to be.
Last year Coles talked about his role in enabling the All Blacks to foster a more inclusive culture where younger players could contribute without feeling the need to serve their dues.
He was clear that he supported the premise but also suggested that he was a willing human pin on occasion, prepared to deflate the egos of the increasing number of youngsters coming into Super Rugby believing they were already superstars because they had played a few First XV games that had been televised.
There is some kind of crazily warped value system at work when Coles does the job so many parents are failing to do and is branded a grub for his trouble.
Anyone who actually gets what sport is about and the wider societal role it plays, will know to celebrate and not denigrate him.