THE Big Nipper and I were laying out jerseys in preparation for Saturday’s rugby game when he read out one of the ‘famous’ quotes on the wall.
It says: “This team isn’t about Roger or me – it’s about you and how much you’re willing to sacrifice to win.”
He asked me who the author was.  I told him it was a club stalwart who had gone on to representative honours, then come back and coached the club to championship after championship, then coached at NPC level for years, and finished off as an assistant coach in the Super 12 (as it was then).
“Man,” he said.  “You have to coach for ages to get to the top.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that no, you don’t.  All you need is to be a buddy of the chief executive of the NZRFU and you can get a couple of years as a head coach straight out of the scrum.
A lot of media commentators last week tacitly or partially supported Hurricanes’ coach Mark Hammett after his decision to dump Andrew Hore and Ma’a Nonu from the franchise for 2012. Hore liked a “midweek drink” (oddly enough, they were happy to print it, but didn’t go into detail) and Nonu was too much like hard work.
I think a lot of people have missed the point.  Hammett has shown himself to be a poor manager of talent this year.  From the very first loss to the Highlanders to the draw at the weekend, the Hurricanes have lacked leadership.  Now, some will say that should come from the players on the field.  It does, in part, but not every team is lucky enough to have a Dan Carter, Richie McCaw or Phil Waugh.
The on-field leadership has to be built over time by the coach.  It’s executing his game plan.  It’s showing discipline.  It’s having parameters that are met and not broken. Ditching players this early in a coaching career – particularly Nonu and potentially Cory Jane – shows panic.
When I was manager of a senior rep rugby team, we ended up with a bloke who was – in the words of the union CEO – “poison”. I didn’t really know the bloke at the time, other than that he was the form blindside of the local competition but lacked discipline and was, according to his club teammates, a mess.
The coaches set the on-field standard for him in no uncertain terms.  After being yellow and red-carded almost every week in club rugby, he went through a whole NPC with no cards or sendings-off.  And he remained the form blindside .
Off the field was my job, and I remember the big gulp when I sat him down and told him what I expected and how he had to be a leader for the younger players.  This was a gamble I took based on no research as to whether he would respond favourably. He became the ultimate team man.  After our last game against Canterbury, we were walking back to the hotel together  and he said to me “You thought I’d be smashing up hotels, getting drunk before games, eh?”
I have to admit I had thought that.  But I said “You led by example this year and proved everyone back home wrong.  That’s not because of me, that’s because of you.” He laughed and said, “Nah, it’s because of you and the coaches.”
Managing the moves is one thing.  Managing the man is another.  The Hurricanes and Mark Hammett are woefully short of both at the moment.