ON RUGBY:The former England colossus may be about to discover that a great player does not necessarily become a great coach, writes BOB CASEY
MARTIN JOHNSON was arguably the best player of my generation. There are others like Brian O’Driscoll who could present compelling credentials, but in examining what Johnson achieved and the influence he brought to bear in matches my original statement stands further scrutiny.
I played against him many times and have a huge respect for the man. However, in casting an eye over his tenure as England coach I can’t escape the feeling that his time with a whistle and a tracksuit could compromise his legacy as a player. Sport is littered with examples of brilliant players whose decision to coach or manage culminated in abject failure.
There will be a section of the public and certainly the media that will not differentiate between Johnson the player and Johnson the coach: the weight of expectation in terms of delivering success is exactly the same. It’s interesting to watch the dynamic in the post-match interview following the Argentina game between Sky Sports touchline reporter Graham Simmons and Johnson.
Simmons was getting stuck into Johnson on the basis of England’s performance. Johnson’s reaction in gauging where he is as a fledgling coach was instructive. As a player you can take out your aggression and frustration in various forms on the pitch, be it in training or during matches.
You could see that by the end of the interview Johnson would dearly have loved to shove Simmons’ microphone where it would have required surgical retrieval. As a coach you have to be able to articulate your feelings in a more studied or dispassionate manner.
If you study footage of Ireland’s Declan Kidney or of New Zealand’s Graham Henry during a game, quietly marshalling their thoughts and making adjustments, and contrast that with Johnson, who is likely to be caught with his head in his hands or thumping the desk, his face animated by or contorted with anger. He still reacts like a player.
It’s difficult not to have some sympathy. He could have a great life, doing the rounds speaking engagements at corporate events. He’d be a blue-chip commodity, luxuriating in the afterglow of a brilliant playing career. Instead he has decided to take charge of arguably the most impoverished, talent-wise, English squad in quite a while.
How many English players would honestly make the current Ireland team? I’ll plead the fifth amendment of that particular issue for the moment. Johnson is now caught between simply trying to win and also developing for the future. He is desperately clinging to some old faces in the hope that they’ll see him out the far side of the storm of criticism.
He probably realises that he should have cut his coaching teeth with Leicester first before accepting the top job. England reached the final of the last two under-20 World Cups and have a massive amount of exciting young talent. There is little evidence of that at senior level.
Former Lions and England World Cup winner Josh Lewsey was scathing in his comments about the England management team. It’s funny that the loyalty players might feel to each other when team-mates can vanish when playing careers come to an end.
Lewsey is entitled to his opinion but I would disagree with what he said in the case of former London Irish coach Brian Smith under whom I played. Smith played international rugby but even if he didn’t, his coaching career to date stands up.
He took us from relegation to third in the Premiership, from a team who scored the fewest tries to one that managed the most. We got to a European Challenge Cup final and a Heineken Cup semi-final. What Smith accomplished as a player should bear no relation to his aptitude as a coach. People don’t seem to grasp this and that’s one of the issues with the Johnson appointment: a great player does not necessarily equate to great coach.
Johnson has modelled his set-up on that of Clive Woodward, but the latter managed to pull together the various coaching strands. There is no evidence that the former has the capacity to do that and that is potentially very damaging. Look at Gloucester coach Bryan Redpath. Will people remember him as a superb Scottish international scrumhalf or as a coach associated with a club going through some tough times rebuilding? These guys are putting their reputation, earned as players, on the line as coaches.
On a different note, fitness comes in many shapes and forms as I can appreciate after a 10km trek with my girlfriend, Shauna, round the gargantuan Westfield centre in Shepherd’s Bush. I needed an ice bath and warm-down exercises as part of my recovery. At one point there were two bouncers monitoring queues into an Ugg shop and another called Hollister. Recession? What recession?
Speaking of fiscal matters, a friend of mine is the director or rugby at Wellington College, a €33,284 (£30,000) per annum private school for the elite of southwest London. Past pupils include England internationals James Haskell and Paul Doran-Jones, who chose rugby over film making. It’s difficult not to be struck by the sheer grandeur of the school; boys whisked away at weekends by a fleet of Aston Martin, Bugatti, Maserati, Rolls Royce and Bentley cars. London Irish enjoys an excellent relationship with the school; two of their current senior team will be joining the club next season.
Dave Ellis returned cock-a-hoop from helping France upset the world champions South Africa. He was very proud of the team’s defensive effort for which he is responsible.
He was telling me the plan was to target the three or four main Springbok ball-carriers – principally Bakkies Botha, Bismarck du Plessis and Fourie du Preez – and gang tackle them: it will be interesting to see if Ireland adopt a similar philosophy when the South Africans come calling to Croke Park next weekend.
