FRENCH NOTES:Ireland's huge task is complicated because we have to correct major technical issues, writes MATT WILLIAMS
THE DISAPPOINTING news that Otago rugby, one of the greatest unions in the world, is on the brink of receivership surfaced this week. A powerhouse of New Zealand rugby, established in 1888, they can no longer carry a NZ$2.3 million (€1.45 million) debt.
One of the longest winning sequences in provincial rugby history was held by the New South Wales Waratahs over Otago. The Waratahs lost to Otago 0-5 in 1901 but remained unbeaten for the next 100 years. Otago won the Ranfurly Shield, defeated the touring Lions, South Africa, England, Scotland, and Australia but they had a mental problem with the Waratahs.
Based in Dunedin, Otago’s home ground, Carisbrook, was nicknamed the “The House of Pain”.
The Wallabies had never won a match there yet the Waratahs couldn’t lose. It was a bizarre rugby anomaly.
In the 1997 Super 12 season when I brought a crop of talented young Waratahs to Dunedin – including Keith Gleeson, Christian Warner and Chris Whitaker – the media were after my head and they gave us the same chance of winning at Carisbrook as the Six Nations committee gave the pitch at the Stade de France of freezing.
We won 27-16.
I coached the Waratahs for three years with the 1901 Otago record still in place (thank God.) I took sadistic pleasure reminding the incoming Waratahs coach of the record. The reaction was always the same: “1901! You’re kidding me?” “No mate, 1901. Don’t be the first.” Smiling as I hung up.
Bob Dwyer is the coach who in 2001, on the 100th anniversary of the Waratahs’ dominance of Otago, lost 39-20 in the House of Pain. That same season, the Wallabies finally defeated New Zealand (23-15) at Carisbrook.
So, what do all these records mean? Absolutely nothing. The truth is the Wallabies and Otago lost because they were not mentally ready for the challenge and employed the wrong tactics (or the right game plan incorrectly).
In 2001 both teams finally got both game plan and mentality spot on. As I have quoted before in this column, “mindset drives performance”. Ireland’s record in Paris means only one thing. In 1972 (at Stade Colombes) and 2000 they had the correct mindset to execute a simple game plan. No matter how you sugar-coat the away record, the uncomfortable fact is that repeatedly Irish teams playing in France have not had adequate mental strength or a game plan capable of defeating the French.
This week Ireland’s task is complicated because they have to correct major technical issues.
The defensive line is standing far too close together at the ruck, leaving space out wide. Italy attempted to exploit this but lacked the skill to transfer the ball to the flanks.
France will attack Ireland wide, where we are vulnerable and they can be brilliant.
The other problem is offence. Ireland’s wide attackers are running cross-field. This made the outside backs easy targets for Italian defenders to knock over. France are operating a different defensive system from last season and will eat up any lateral running.
Ball-carrying from the powerful Irish backrow remains too close to the ruck, where the big Italian forwards repeatedly double- teamed Seán O’Brien.
Stephen Ferris, O’Brien and Jamie Heaslip must be wider and remember they are line break runners. They need to reduce the amount of donkey work they are currently performing.
On the single occasion Ferris received phase ball running straight in midfield he broke the line and offloaded to Tommy Bowe.
This week Ireland would do well to look at Otago’s rugby history as it gives a wonderful example of how effective a simple game plan can be against a giant.
In 1994 Otago defeated the Springboks in one of the greatest ever victories by a New Zealand province.
In the amateur era, when you defeated South Africa your team was presented with a “Springbok Head” trophy.
As politically incorrect as that was, the Springbok would never become extinct through this act as the South Africans didn’t lose many games.
The hand-written game plan for this match is framed and hangs on the wall next to the Bok head. Otago were coached by Gordon Hunter, who famously wrote that plan on a beer coaster.
Gordy was a great friend of mine. He had one glazed, white blind eye, along with an uncropped, droopy moustache above a mouth that had a perpetual half smile and cigarette perched on the lower lip. Gordy was every bit the intimidating police detective that was his training.
When I asked him about the Springbok game plan, his one eye twinkled. “I am a simple copper. The game plan has to be simple or I can’t understand it,” he said.
Any honest coach will freely admit his tactics are worthless unless the players are prepared to give every atom of their being to make it successful.
That day the Otago boys gave their all.
On arrival in Dunedin with the Waratahs in 1998 I was greeted on the airport tarmac by two large uniformed policemen. After confirming that I was indeed Mr Matthew Williams, I was handcuffed and stuffed into the waiting police car back-seat with sirens flashing as the rest of the Waratah management incredulously looked on. It all happened in a few seconds.
As I sat cuffed inside a speeding police car, my mind was stumbling to keep pace with these ridiculous events. I attempted to ask the stony silent constables what was happening.
I was starting to get both angry and more than a little concerned when the car slowed down and I saw Gordy, beaming ear to ear, waiting by the side of the road.
This was a different time, when practical jokes were permitted. I knew I had been “got and got very good”.
He jumped in beside me and did not even look at me, simply asking his constables, “did he say: ‘Do you know who I am? I am the Waratah coach, there must be some mistake?’” By now all three were laughing uncontrollably while I sat in the back seat, still cuffed and yet to see the funny side of this behaviour by my rotten Kiwi captors.
I was the bloody Waratahs coach for Christsake!
There was no conversation on the drive to Gordon’s house because he was still shaking with laughter.
Over a few drinks and dinner with his lovely family I began smiling again.
In the coming years, whenever he checked in, it would always start with: “this is the Dunedin Police. We are looking for the notorious Mr Williams”. Or simply: “Do you know who I am?” The calls came like clock work. When we used to live out in Greystones, whenever the phone woke the house at 2am I knew it was him.
“Gordon, it’s the middle of the night!”
“But I know you want to talk to me.”
That was always true.
He eventually became assistant coach and selector to John Hart’s New Zealand team. Although his heart was always in Otago, he then moved to the Auckland Blues.
The phone rang again one night and Gordon told me, in his typically blunt manner, that he had throat cancer.
Apart from his wonderful wife and two loving daughters, coaching Auckland gave him a reason to beat the illness.
There is no doubt Gordon was very sick, but when Auckland took the coaching role from him it was the cruelest of all the many despicable acts I have ever seen inflicted on a coach.
In the few months before he died we spoke a lot. He was a good, honest man who had a deep understanding of people and rugby.
He remains a friend and an inspiration.
Every year in Super Rugby the Otago Highlanders and the Auckland Blues play for the Gordon Hunter Trophy. I’m sure Gordy’s spirit remains in Otago and not with the bastards who robbed him of those last few moments of joy from the sport to which he gave so much.
I wish Gordy could scribble down one more game plan on a wet coaster from the circular ring of his pint.
I know what he’d write about tomorrow, it would be very straightforward and simple so we could all understand it:
Run straight and hard, stay on your feet and look to offload.
Get the backrow running wide off our centres.
Rattle the bones of Poitrenaud with a big Irish welcome and send him plenty more high balls thereafter. Chase these garryowens like the hounds of hell.
Silence the crowd by attacking the French scrum and lineout (they won’t expect this so it must be done).
In defence keep your width and have fast line speed. Slow their ball down in the tackle.
Put enormous pressure on François Trinh-Duc (Seánie, this is your job).
Smash them with everything you have for the 80. If you are not prepared to give this, don’t get on the plane.
If Ireland can follow Gordon Hunter’s game plan, they will win.
