SCD Southwest - The Latest Blog from SCD Southwest http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php The wheels on the international bandwagon rarely stop rolling for long: the post-World Cup 2011 era has barely started, yet we are already thinking of the 15 matches that will make up the 2012 Six Nations Championship. There is always a nagging feeling that because of the imbalance of fixtures – some countries play three games at home, others only two – the outcome will not be a definitive reflection of the strengths of the teams involved. There will be no doubting the level of passion, however. Apart from the unexpected, the one thing we can safely expect is complete, no-holds-barred commitment. Unpredictability is the watchword when it comes to the Six Nations and there is no compelling reason to think things will go entirely the way of the formbook this time round. I don't believe there is a truly outstanding side going into the competition, although if we take seriously the litmus test of the Heineken Cup – the closest the clubs, regions and provinces get to international intensity – it is reasonable to surmise that France and Ireland begin proceedings in the driving seat. This is always a risky approach, though. Heineken Cup indicators have proved nonsensical in the past. World Cup events should have been consigned to the memory bank marked "distant" by now: those looking back at the top level of the game tend not to see rivals overtaking them at high speed. Yet it is apparent that the things that happened in New Zealand have had a significant knock-on effect pretty much everywhere, be it in terms of coaching set-ups, playing squads or levels of expectation. Certainly, captains and coaches have constantly referred to the World Cup during the preamble to this weekend's opening round of matches. Personnel-wise, the three Celtic nations are closest to "same old, same old" status (this is not a criticism of Declan Kidney, Andy Robinson and Warren Gatland as coaches of Ireland, Scotland and Wales. I have great respect for each of them). The remaining countries are more obviously taking steps into the great unknown, with new people on the payroll and different tactical approaches being developed as a matter of urgency. Time is one thing rarely granted to anyone in this age of instant gratification, so in the countries where there has been major upheaval – England, France, Italy – ambitious coaches are up against the clock in attempting to work out the best way of moving forward, of deciding on new shapes and structures and getting things bedded down. This is not a straightforward task. I know this from personal experience. It will be fascinating to see to what extent playing styles reflect the rugby played by the leading domestic sides of the various nations. In a country like Ireland, where the governing body has a large degree of control over the comings and goings of the players, there is more likely to be a homogeneous approach. There again, top coaches invariably enjoy being a little idiosyncratic: it is always fun to fly in the face of perceived logic and undermine commonly held assumptions about national rugby characteristics. Not that it is an easy job dragging people down a different route. I know this from experience, too. All this adds to the glorious uncertainty of a competition that offers only one guarantee: that at some point over its course, a trapdoor will open and swallow up an unwary team. Factor in the impact of pure luck – not to mention the refereeing foibles that inevitably play some part in the drama – and you begin to wonder why anyone ever considers gambling a penny. So what of the contenders? Wales, as ever, have fitness issues. Yet if their impressive captain, Sam Warburton, is to be believed, they are determined to maintain their positive outlook on how the game should be played and I, for one, am happy to applaud their refreshing approach. There remains a lack of consistency, both within a game and from match to match, that needs to be eradicated and an early setback in Dublin may test their resolve. But with the bigger picture revealing some light at the end of the tunnel, they should continue on their current course. Scotland need to start winning games. Andy Robinson is imposing pressure on himself to deliver and I only hope the players respond by taking the same mentality on to the field with them. The Scots' chronic inability to fit the last piece into the jigsaw is an old story; indeed, they have been letting wriggling opponents off the hook for years now. Their fortunes could be transformed if they could just find a way of closing out matches, but the lack of genuine finishing quality in the back division makes this a big ask. You'd expect the Irish to be strong title contenders, given the success of their provincial rugby in the Heineken Cup environment. Their capacity to manage players through the first half of a season should ensure they start the tournament both fresh and battle-hardened – the optimum state of readiness. They will still be smarting from yet another roller-coaster World Cup and must cope with the loss of talismanic centre Brian O'Driscoll, but as some of the longer-serving figures are beginning to think of last chances, there will be no shortage of motivation. Italy have a new coach in the Frenchman Jacques Brunel, who is, by all accounts, every bit as pragmatic as his predecessor, Nick Mallett. In Azzurri terms, two wins will signal progress and begin the process of changing perceptions inside the country about how the national side might play the game. The establishment of a stable and intelligent midfield combination would have a cathartic effect, allowing Brunel to build on traditional forward strength. Should he find such a combination, will the pragmatist in him allow it to flourish? France, the World Cup runners-up, also have a new coach, much more familiar to rugby followers on this side of the water. Philippe Saint-Andrι, the man asked to lead Les Bleus towards the next global tournament in 2015, is also marked by the spirit of pragmatism – indeed, he is more of a pragmatist than a romantic, despite the great deeds he performed as a wing of the highest calibre. This is no longer at odds with the French way of doing things. To my mind, the romantic soul departed rugby in that country years ago. Saint-Andrι's success in his first tournament will depend largely on the desire of his players to front up in all five games. Finally, we come to renaissance England. The interim coaching team under Stuart Lancaster have done their utmost to establish a culture of honesty, simplicity, humility and hard work: foundations of any successful organisation. In the same spirit, several players have been quoted as saying they want to change the way they go about things at Test level. Here, then, is a chance for them to put their substantial monetary rewards somewhere in the vicinity of their mouths. If there is a lack of experience in the squad, there is also a refreshing air of youthful energy and enthusiasm. Much will depend on results in the first two games, both of which are away from home. Anything might happen. There is, by general consent, a need to plan for the longer term – a need for a new strategy for England rugby, a new vision. Will the media and the governing body keep this in mind and hold back from overcritical reaction in the face of short-term setbacks? Now, there's a question. And I think we all know the answer to it. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=104 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=104 Top viewing, edge-of-seat stuff...the last round of Heineken Cup pool games lived up to its billing in many ways, producing a good deal of tough yet innovative and ambitious rugby to lift the spirits of all genuine union followers. Only those with a particularly tribal mindset could have been disappointed – together, of course, with the Premiership grandees, who are now pushing for a change in the qualification rules to give more English clubs access to the elite European competition. Can this be right? Please, let's not go out of our way to appear arrogant in this country. Saracens were the only Premiership side to find a way into the knockout stage and even they spent a large part of their weekend scrabbling indecisively before beating Treviso, one of those pesky Italian teams who, according to some, should not be in the tournament at all. In the event, Treviso were more than a match for the English champions in a number of areas and it was pure inexperience in the dying minutes that prevented them causing an upset many would have seen as seismic. This English qualification struggle is in danger of becoming part of the fabric of the sport and the explanations – some would call them excuses – have been trotted out ad nauseam. There are elements of truth in all of the reasons put forward for repeated Heineken Cup failures: financial problems surrounding salary caps and contract issues; the imbalance in squad sizes; the presence of relegation in England and its absence in the Celtic lands; the intense physicality – something spoken of with pride when it suits the people involved – of the week-by-week proceedings in the Premiership. But are these things really as they seem? Are we honestly claiming that squads in England are smaller and of lower quality than elsewhere? Does not the fear of relegation enhance the competitive mindset of any player worth his professional salt? Just wondering aloud. To my mind, the problems are elsewhere – not least in what seems to me to be the official designation of rugby, at least in England, as a "collision sport" rather than a "contact sport". The art of evasion is passι; heavy objects running into each other has become endemic. I swear there is another form of football, played with crash helmets and protective padding, and extremely popular in a very large and powerful corner of the free world, where this approach is embraced more completely. The "collision" obsession has had a massive knock-on effect on rugby and, while it was interesting to read the recently published research indicating that injury levels have stabilised over the past two or three years, I am tempted to suggest that, although this is a feather in the cap of conditioning coaches, who have clearly been redoubling their efforts in pursuit of ever-bigger, ever-stronger players, it is not necessarily a triumphant reflection of the way the union game is going in these parts. English rugby's gym culture begins at a very early age, with those youngsters fortunate enough to have been identified as having potential soon enjoying (if that is the right word) the benefits of a specialised development programme in which 50 per cent of practical work is carried out amid the dumb-bells and leg-press machines. Add to this the huge emphasis on core skills, an area traditionally taught exceptionally well by schoolmasters, and it makes you wonder how much time is spent actually playing games. I'm the first to acknowledge the importance of good technique and conditioning at the base of the performance pyramid, but it strikes me as downright crazy that young players are not encouraged to move a little further up the structure during their most formative and naturally creative years. Why is this happening? Let us ask ourselves where most of our sporting population, be they rugby enthusiasts or not, first experience the thrill of playing games with and against one another. For those of my generation, it was in the street; for others, it was in the park; for all of us at one time or another, the school playground was the place. At my junior school, rugby league was played across the yard, football was played up and down it, and there was skipping and hopscotch going on smack in the middle of it all. We made it work, because that's what kids do. And what did this game-playing give us? Enjoyment, for a start: children run around (in an evasive way, not a collision-based way) because it's natural to them. They explore their creativity without the heavy hand of "he who knows all" interfering with the process. It may appear chaotic from the outside, but the youngsters involved make sense of unstructured environments by showing a degree of discipline – by behaving responsibly and accepting that someone in the group will emerge as an organiser, a leader. The mavericks? Peer-group pressure sorts them out. Order is imposed on chaos as the participants learn to handle themselves in a maelstrom of uncertainty. In short, they develop an awareness of how games function, without the input of a coach or referee. And then? Then the man in the tracksuit comes along: whistle at the ready, coaching badge on chest, certificate in pocket. All too soon, the sense of freedom becomes nothing more than a distant memory. Drills abound – the military would be proud – and training fields are covered with the widest possible array of artificial aids. I have personally witnessed, just recently, the sight of under-10s running into (rather than around) tackle shields as big as they are. As things progress, for want of a better word, the focus shifts: to the closed world of set-piece perfection and to the collision-based game, which makes obsolete the evasive skill of the playground. And, of course, there is the worship of defence as key. Over the past three years, I've discussed these issues with coaches of every level. More often than not they prioritise the factors just mentioned over any consideration of the attacking game. It defies belief. God forbid that a team should even think of running the ball from their own 22. Still, I suppose none of the above had an impact on the failure of all but one of England's seven Heineken Cup clubs to reach the quarter-finals. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=103 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=103 Most of the attention of rugby followers in recent days has been on Stuart Lancaster's initial selection decisions as interim England coach ahead of the Six Nations Championship and on the build-up to the decisive rounds of Heineken Cup pool games, the first batch of which take place this weekend. Both competitions are noted for the ferocity they generate, and it is a truism that in this kind of environment the mentally strong prevail. In this connection, I find it interesting that the people who need to be as strong as anyone in the mind department – those charged with ensuring things run as smoothly as a dynamically chaotic game like rugby allows – rarely merit a mention when the big events are being previewed. Yet their decisions, the most significant of which inevitably decide the outcome, will be picked over and dissected, in real time and slow-motion replays, by studio analysts and armchair critics. In addition, they might well suffer abuse (mild in comparison to football, but abuse all the same) from the paying public, before being collared for less-than-polite talks with losing coaches keen to deflect attention from the poor performance of their teams. They will also find themselves castigated in the media if one of their law interpretations is deemed to be wrong. I am, of course, talking about the men in the middle, armed with nothing more than a cheap whistle and the tacit support of the game's authorities. Referees must make split-second calls, often relating to incidents conducted at high speed in heavily congested areas of the field, in situations where even the best players find it easy to mess up. While players face fewer repercussions – it is not unusual for one to make a serious mistake and still walk away as man of the match – officials always suffer for their mistakes in terms of the reaction of the press and public. Given the nature of the laws, many of which are open to interpretation, it surprises me that any mere human being should attempt to test himself to this degree on a weekly basis. As this is one area of rugby in which I have never come close to having the courage to fail, I for one value and appreciate the efforts of those who perform this most taxing of roles. However, I do worry at times that some interpretations popular among present-day referees are too based on the letter of the law, rather than on a common-sense approach that might encourage players to take more responsibility in accepting the consequences of their actions. Last weekend, I had an interesting few minutes of half-time reflection in the company of a menacing, Damocles-like figure who was watching the same game (he turned out to be the referee's assessor) and was pleased to discover that we shared some views. I am not, and never will be, a fan of the extended advantage – by which I mean the sanctioning of multiple phases of play following some greater or lesser offence, after which the game is brought back for a scrum, a free-kick or a penalty. In the recent Worcester-Gloucester match, the referee allowed a 10-phase passage of advantage before activating his original decision. If professional teams are unable to prise an opening in so prolonged a period of time, what the hell are they doing on the training ground all week? Even at the lower levels of the sport, a decision-maker worth his salt should be capable of taking the relevant factors into account and making a call within two or three phases as to whether the advantage is worth pursuing. With things as they are, it seems to me we are encouraging players to meander through comfort-zone periods of meaningless rugby that often end with speculative drop-kicks at goal. Please, let's toughen up here. Let's focus more intently on players' decision-making and challenge them to do something decisive in a short space of time. One of my coaching tenets is that a team can and should attack without the ball, as well as with it. "We lose the ball, we want it back, we contest it fiercely, and if we manage to secure a turnover, we have a prime attacking opportunity to exploit." That pretty much sums up my thinking. Sadly, I fear there is a refereeing assumption in the game that is almost endemic: namely, that if a team attacks through a number of phases, however innocuous those phases might be, and then has the ball stolen by a defending player at the tackle area, that defender must have done something dodgy. Sufficiently dodgy, often, to merit a yellow card. This cannot be right. I'm all for putting a stop to cynical cheating at the ruck and clearing the pitch of players who indulge in illegality. But if the union game is to remain recognisable, there must be an honest contest for the ball on the floor. If this disappears, players will have carte blanche to flop to the ground when in possession, secure in the knowledge that the ball will be recycled and retained. Another thing. Over recent years, I have spent time in the company of many coaches and spectators who become exasperated when, after the award of a free-kick, the referee prevents a quick "tap and go" that would catch the defence in disarray because he wants to admonish the player who committed the infringement. Why not allow the game to continue until the next break and then have a word? One more point, before I clamber down from the hobby horse. Are there really as many dangerous high tackles as officials seem to make out? Duck into contact these days and you stand a fair chance of winning a penalty and seeing your opponent trudge off to the sin bin. Throw in a bit of Hollywood acting for good measure and the other team might be down to 14 men for the duration. The deliberate swinging arm is definitely dangerous, but it is also easy to spot. Occasions when a player tries to dislodge the ball but accidentally slips up towards his rival's shoulders are less perilous than a tap-tackle from behind. Let's have a common-sense debate about all this. Get rid of the cheats at the earliest opportunity, but don't remove the spirit of contest from the game – and don't encourage players to rely on referees to make the big decisions instead of taking their own responsibility. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=102 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=102 It is with keen anticipation – keener than usual following Martin Johnson's resignation as England manager and a clear-out of the coaching staff – that the rugby public await next week's announcement of the new Elite Player Squad ahead of the Six Nations Championship. Stuart Lancaster and his colleagues have been weighing up their options for the best part of a month now and in many ways they find themselves in a win-win situation. In this pressurised day and age, the chance to tread a totally fresh pathway with a major national side is a rare opportunity indeed. There seems to be a groundswell of opinion among the players that now is the time to take some personal responsibility in putting together a diverse and challenging game. Can this desire be translated into action? That's a big question, but I'm sure Stuart and company, "caretakers" as they are, believe they can put the Rugby Football Union in a difficult position regarding the appointment of a longer-term head coach at the end of the tournament. They must be relishing the prospect of doing so. The usual performance-versus-result debate will rear its head among the learned folk who populate our sport and while I made my views on the subject clear in my last column of 2011, I'm sure that it will be a major contributory factor in the selectorial ponderings of Stuart and the fellow members of his triumvirate, Graham Rowntree and Andy Farrell. My fervent hope is that they alone are involved in the decision-making on the make-up of the 32-man squad and their approach to England's programme in the short term. What they don't need is outside interference. Possibly the most passionate arguments will surround the midfield, for this is the heartbeat of a team in terms of playing style – the surest indicator of the way a side are approaching their rugby. But first we must look at the scrum-half situation. Everything is opening up for Ben Youngs of Leicester, thanks largely to Danny Care's inability to look after himself off the field. England need a No 9 who can keep his temper in check, control his own game and be a positive influence on those around him in the white heat of battle. So far, no one has demonstrated the capacity to meet these criteria on a consistent basis. At full-back, much attention has been lavished on Mike Brown of Harlequins, who has delivered excellent performances throughout the first half of the season. The game-breaking Nick Abendanon of Bath is also catching the eye. Even so, I expect a rejuvenated Ben Foden to hang on to his spot. As for the wing positions, there are pure finishers aplenty. What I want to know is: where are all the footballing flyers? Are they extinct? I haven't seen enough of Gloucester's much talked about Charlie Sharples to know whether he is one of those creatures – a wing as effective in distribution and in his work off the ball as he is when he has the white line in front of him. What I do know is that a real footballer like Mike Slemen (those of a certain age will remember him, I'm sure) is worth a hell of a lot to a team. Whatever the selections at scrum-half and back three, they will count for precious little if things do not function in midfield, at 10, 12 and 13. Listening to and reading pundits who see far more top-level rugby than yours truly, there are candidates putting up their hands in each of these positions. This is all well and good, but the key elements are the balance and leadership a midfield trio bring to a team. It may be that the coaches will base everything on the short-term policy of winning the next game, in which case the traditional English No 12 might come into play – the kind of inside centre whose first instinct is to go forward and cross the gainline in order to set a target as a means of bringing the big boys back into the game as soon as possible after the completion of a set piece (No thought there of actually playing to score, but never mind). My impression is there are plenty of people capable of performing this simple role. There again, the coaches may be searching for something a little different – players who can interchange at 10 and 12, or 12 and 13, as Will Greenwood and Mike Catt did in the glory days, to threaten the opposition in more sophisticated ways through a wider range of technical skill and tactical acumen while having the mental toughness to challenge themselves in the eye of the storm. If England are serious about playing a confrontational game based on pace and tempo, then a high standard of technique and real decision-making prowess are crucial. No doubt much consideration is being given to where the unusually powerful Leicester midfielder Manu Tuilagi should play, if fit, for this will inevitably affect other selections. Will he be given a roving role between 12 and 13, or will the coaches go for a more settled and specific centre combination? Tuilagi is a dangerous runner but does he possess the distribution skills, not to mention the kicking dimension, that are, to my way of thinking, an essential part of the international-class No 12's make-up? Maybe England see Tuilagi as their version of the All Blacks' Ma'a Nonu. If this is the case, it is worth pointing out that the New Zealand coaches have encouraged Nonu to expand his repertoire over the last couple of seasons and have made him a much more effective team player as a result. So it is that we wait with bated breath. To use a literary analogy, will we see what turns out to be the parody of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, or are the coaches seeking the utopia of H G Wells' Men Like Gods? Diamond lights up super Sale Even though they lost to Leicester in a thrilling encounter at Welford Road, I must award full marks to Steve Diamond and his Sale side for putting a few noses out of joint – not only last weekend, but throughout the season to date. Steve's hugely energetic and outgoing style has been extremely effective and by asking him to take on the chief executive's role – alongside his many other duties – the club are showing they mean business in their attempt to rejuvenate the union game in the North-west. There is an immense amount of rugby-playing talent in the South Lancashire corridor alone and it would be so heartening to see a genuine North-west side challenging for honours. Forgive me for being a little partisan, but it's my area of England and I care about it. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=101 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=101 In typically understated fashion – no fanfare and no fuss, in stark contrast to most others who involve themselves in the union game – Jonny Wilkinson announced his retirement from international rugby this week. It is reasonable to suggest that his performances were more closely monitored, and generated more public comment, than those of any individual who ever played the sport – certainly in this country. Yet he remains something of an enigma to many of those who watched his career unfold. I worked with Jonny in the England environment and saw him close at hand over the best part of a decade, and while I do not claim to be any the wiser now when it comes to identifying exactly what made him tick, I am acutely aware of some of the characteristics that made him the most recognisable player of the sport's professional era. To begin with, he was relentless – I would go as far as to say ruthless – in pursuit of personal improvement: never once was he satisfied that he had reached his limit. His dedication to mastering the core skills and implementing them at the highest level was legendary. Here are a selection of defining moments from my own memory – moments of magnificence in the white heat of battle that had their genesis in hours of hard work on some lonely training ground. First, his tackle on French back Emile Ntamack in Paris during the 2000 Six Nations. Ntamack was one of the world's biggest, most powerful wings and Jonny brought him down hard with a hit that might, in today's politically correct game, have earned him a yellow card, or even a red one. What it did in the game of 11 years ago was announce clearly to all-comers that when they were playing England, they should not bother attacking down the No 10 channel. My second memory comes from the same year – our Test match against South Africa in Bloemfontein, in which Jonny produced a kicking display that was nothing short of extraordinary. He was responsible for all 27 of the points that won us the game: to my astonished eyes, he was in that rare place where he simply couldn't miss. More than that, he punted like a metronome, repeatedly spiralling the ball 60 or 70 metres into touch, or into awkward areas downfield. His command of tackling and kicking was such that opponents found themselves forced into tactical rethinks. It was a massive advantage for England. Thirdly, I will never forget the pass he threw to Jason Robinson, under extreme pressure direct from a scrum 15 metres from his own line, in the 2001 Calcutta Cup match with Scotland – a pass that freed Jason in space and resulted in a blinding length-of-the-field try for Will Greenwood. His ability to fire flat, accurate passes off both hands was a joy for colleagues operating in the wider channels, and allowed Jonny himself to play close to opposition defences when he chose to do so or when the team's strategy demanded it. It is vital to stress how much the team and its strategy meant to him. Here was the outstanding individual technician in world rugby, ever willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. He was the first to acknowledge the decision-making assistance he received from highly proficient performers playing inside or outside him, particularly in his formative years, yet I witnessed a surge in his confidence and capacity to manage a game himself in the early part of the last decade. Had he not suffered so many cruel setbacks with injury, I do not doubt that he would have been a much more dominant tactical figure at Test level than he became – or was allowed to become – in later years. Suppressing his individuality – and he was different – for the good of the group was a noble thing to do, but I don't believe it was the correct path for him to go down. It is interesting to note that over the last couple of seasons, he has seemed far more at home playing in Toulon than performing in the England environment. I have been asked why he scored only six tries for his country. It was a silly question. If the idea behind the query was that he did not possess the necessary running skills to threaten the opposition line, we should remind ourselves of the 45-minute cameo in which he tore Ireland apart in 2002, or the wonderfully creative try he scored against the All Blacks later that year. As we all know, he had a voracious appetite for the rough and tumble aspect of the sport, to the extent that it was devilishly difficult to stop him involving himself in the tackle area, whether or not he was the actual tackler. I can think of very few other backs, and no outside-halves, who had to be held back from hitting too many rucks. It was a reflection of his nature: of his enthusiasm for rugby. This remarkable physicality took its toll: between 2003 and 2007, Jonny experienced more injury trauma than any professional sportsman should have to suffer. Yet he battled through regardless, and it seemed to have a positive effect on his outlook, rather than a negative one: indeed, it appeared to bolster his already exceptional determination. When he returned to the England side after a prolonged absence, against Scotland in 2007, my first game as head coach, he was brilliant. Many have felt the need this week to compare him to other fly-halves who reached the top of the international tree between 1998 and 2011. I do not feel any such need. Jonny was a unique figure at Test level, an inspiration to those who coached and played alongside him; an inspiration to many thousands of youngsters, not only in England but from across the union landscape. How good a player was he? It is a measure of the regard in which he is held that there is no need to listen to those close to home. Ask any coach or any player from any far-flung corner of the rugby world and they will say they are more than happy to see an England without Jonny. That tells you all you need to know. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=100 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=100 I am old enough to remember the 1960s, and the ground-breaking satirical television programme "That Was The Week That Was". How was the week that was for me? Let's say it had its share of irony and black comedy. There I was, sitting back in blissful relaxation and thoroughly enjoying life on the north-west coast when, suddenly, I found myself being bombarded with phone messages of the most surprising and bemusing kind. While I was out of the house on Monday evening, I had 32 missed calls in 90 minutes – the vast majority of them to do with something entirely fictional: namely, that I had either been offered, or was about to be offered, a deal to return to the England coaching set-up in a caretaker capacity for the forthcoming Six Nations Championship, which starts early in the new year. While all this attention probably didn't quite constitute harassment, it certainly led to some discomfort in the form of a rash of wholly unjustified headlines in the following morning's papers. It was a fabrication from start to finish and while this sort of thing has its amusing side, it can also be rather startling – even for someone who has had his share of headlines over the course of a lifetime in sport. There's no smoke without fire, of course, and it has since become more and more clear that someone quite close to home started the rumours, although exactly what was said and on what basis, I have no idea. I'm in more of a mood now than I was a few days ago to laugh at the 24-hour frenzy, but there's a part of me that wants to cry at the lazy brand of journalism at the heart of it. While I'm pretty sure I could do the caretaker's job, there are a couple of points to be made. Firstly, there is still no chief executive at the Rugby Football Union – still no one to report to; no clear idea of who has what influence, direct or otherwise, over whom. I'm also pretty sure that there's no chance whatsoever of anyone asking me to help out. Many of the suit-and-tie brigade attached to the governing body seem to regard me as the Anti-Christ of coaching because I don't happen to favour the traditional, common or garden approach to preparation and playing. I'm far more interested in new ideas and I had the chance to indulge myself on Tuesday evening, at the back end of the frenzy (although a friend of mine tells me my picture appeared on breakfast TV as late as Wednesday). A group of Kiwis led by Brendon Ratcliffe, the ex-NZ academy manager and assistant coach to Wayne Smith at Northampton a few years ago, have set up a website (www.therugbysite.com) to share and spread coaching and playing knowledge throughout the sport. The list of contributors is impressive – among those involved from the All Black end are Wayne, Graham Henry, Richie McCaw and Daniel Carter – so I was somewhat taken aback, and extremely gratified, to be invited to provide the English input, presumably because the people running the show see something of value in my philosophy. I insisted on making my initial contribution at Fylde, where I do the vast majority of my coaching these days: not just because it's handy geographically, although I've become rather fond of leaving my armchair and walking on to the field without having to cover too much ground in between, but because we have a group of players who, while not members of the "elite" in the eyes of the outside world, have been nothing short of fantastic in taking up the challenge of playing provocative rugby in a style that often flies totally in the face of orthodoxy. And why shouldn't they, when you think about it? They play at level three, where the main objectives are still enjoyment and release, and there's no better way to achieve those things than by doing something completely different on a Saturday afternoon (this leads me back to last week's column and the comments of Leicester flanker Tom Croft about players taking more responsibility. Is there a touch of revolutionary thinking all of a sudden? If so, will it be encouraged, or will it be squashed by men in tracksuits with badges, awards and certificates to their names, and with employers looking over their shoulders? It remains to be seen). On Tuesday night, the conditions were not what you would call ideal: we had gale-force coastal winds, intermittent driving rain and the unbridled pleasure of a 10-minute hailstorm that swept across the pitch, turning to sleet as it passed. It was perfect for the old-style bad-weather game: set-piece, kick and chase, shove it up your jumper. There wasn't a chance of that happening, though. Our session was based around playing a confrontational running/handling game underpinned by intelligent decision-making, all wrapped up in a dynamic up-tempo approach. Quite deliberately, I ensured there was next to no space available – and, therefore, only a bare minimum of thinking time. What I was looking for was an attitude of "when we have the ball we'll always be in your face; there'll be no hiding place because we'll always be looking for you". The short passing and ever-so-subtle changes in running lines required for this to be effective meant the inclement wintry weather had no impact on the players' skill set or, more importantly, their mindset. The enthusiasm was high even when things went wrong, due to mistakes by myself as well as the players. We all recovered any lost ground through a determination to push forward with the challenges we had set ourselves. Things turned full circle the following day. The New Zealanders I'd been hosting for two nights left the house and normality was swiftly restored. I met some friends at the local boozer (runner-up in the National Real Ale Pub of the Year competition) after spending two hours walking the dog on the seafront, with big skies above, an expanse of water in front and plenty of time to think. Given the events earlier in the week, who would have imagined such a transformation? A final point: I'm looking forward to viewing this afternoon's international between Wales and Australia, two of the brighter sides at the World Cup. I didn't see the Wallabies' victory over the Barbarians last Saturday, thanks to a power cut, but I'll make every effort to watch those two excellent open-side flankers, Sam Warburton and David Pocock, fight it out in Cardiff. I'm even more intrigued to see how the two outside-halves, Rhys Priestland and James O'Connor, go against each other. O'Connor seems to be a phenomenon – certainly, there aren't many 21-year-olds with the best part of 30 caps in the cupboard. He's been through so much already, what with his stellar performances on the field and the odd disciplinary problem off it. Now, having spent all his time at full-back or on the wing, he's in a position where he can really influence the shape of a game. It would not surprise me if he could play scrum-half too, a little like a goal-kicking Austin Healey. Which reminds me: one of those missed calls was from Austin! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=99 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=99 Speculation has been rife in the week or so since Martin Johnson's resignation as England manager as to what will happen next, particularly on the subject of whether a foreign recruit might be the best solution to a very knotty problem, but the only thing we can say for sure is that more candidates have ruled themselves out than in – extremely bluntly, in the case of the World Cup-winning coach Graham Henry. To my mind, the clearest assessment of the way forward has been made by Sir Clive Woodward, with whom I had the pleasure and privilege of working over a four-and-a-half-year span with England. In particular, I was struck by his insistence that the new manager, if that's what he is to be called, should have some of the entrepreneurial spirit about him. The entrepreneur shows leadership by selecting the correct staff; he perceives opportunities that others may not see, or at least before others do; he is prepared to take risks in pursuit of eventual success; he shows himself to be innovative in his grasp of any new technologies that might be available, increasing efficiency and productivity as a consequence; he acts as a catalyst for change. How do I know this? Because this is precisely what Clive did in his time with the national team. He also demanded that we on the coaching staff show our own entrepreneurial side – never, I hope, an issue for me – and encouraged us to constantly question and challenge the perceived order of things. It was an excellent, thoroughly modern environment that over time produced successful results. It was with great interest that, while considering all this, I read some comments attributed to Tom Croft, the Leicester and England flanker. In essence, he argued that there was no need to rush in contracting a new boss for the national team because the playing group were perfectly capable of preparing themselves for the forthcoming Six Nations if the RFU was willing to put faith in them and give them the opportunity. I can imagine many people who have just read and heard of the things that went on at the recent World Cup wondering if this is really feasible. Croft also said there were players in and around the elite squad who would be prepared to set up and lead training sessions and that the present players should decide the style of rugby they wish to play. I am fairly certain that I have heard that concept somewhere before: of a coach being an enabling, player-centred figure whose business it is to create an environment of freedom in which players can perform and improve – an environment that all players can share in when it comes to preparation and therefore be in the right place to take over the decision-making in the heat of competition, making the calls that will lead to victory. This has been at the forefront of my thinking for longer than I care to remember. In my experience, the most spectacular example of this involved a team of 16 to 18-year-old schoolboys who decided they would play a non-kicking game for an entire season and had the courage and discipline to stick to their guns. It was the kind of collective approach that brought a disparate group of people closer together – a positive by-product of group responsibility – and it forced everyone involved to look at the game from a totally different angle. Ultimately, it was a fascinating journey into the unknown for all. As preparation at professional level becomes more and more sanitised and analysis-led, do we really possess the players and coaches who are either willing or able to operate in this way? Even more importantly, is there any one person at the Rugby Football Union who would understand the potential benefits of such an approach? I am pretty sure most players would not wish to run the show themselves, but it appears there may be a groundswell of opinion within the current squad that the time has come to step forward and be counted. This is precisely why the entrepreneurial nature of the next manager is so important. He must pick up on what Croft and others are saying and see it as an opportunity – a catalyst for cultural change – rather than a threat to the established orthodoxy. It is an opportunity to realign individual leadership roles in a no-fear environment; to encourage players and coaches to embrace risk and develop new ways of thinking. On the field, this may simply involve reducing the number of pre-conceived ideas and concentrate instead on increasing the understanding of the principles of play. Croft is quoted as saying that the players want to develop a "heads-up" way of playing that suits them best. Good for him, although I can't say I like the wording. I prefer the version favoured by the great French coach Pierre Villepreux, who always talks about "playing with your eyes open" – a more striking phrase, implying as it does that players should constantly search for opportunities. This afternoon at RFU headquarters (how ironic), we will see a group of players, thrown together under the umbrella of the Barbarians, take the field against Australia, the bronze medal winners at the World Cup. Given that these Baa-Baas are drawn from 10 different countries and have a very brief lead-in period, albeit under the expert guidance of Henry and his fellow New Zealander Steve Hansen, they will have no choice but to take responsibility for preparation themselves, just as Croft wishes. There is great added interest in how they will integrate an individual who has never before experienced a serious game of rugby union. I refer of course to the brilliant rugby league international Sam Tomkins. With my entrepreneurial coaching hat on, I believe this gives both Tomkins and the team a chance to do something special on the day. When I read that he had been asked to play, I was spirited back 15 years to the dawning of the professional era in the union game, when Bath and Wigan agreed a four-month cross-code deal involving the league specialists Jason Robinson and Henry Paul. The view of players and coaches alike that this was a great success was not shared by some of the more negative figures on the fringes of both codes, but it was undoubtedly fascinating. Jason, especially in those days, was a very demanding young man who immediately wanted to know the key technical differences he would have to take on board at Bath. My interest, however, was in his attacking mindset: his natural assumption that he could score from anywhere and everywhere on the field. I felt that would chime with the other players in the squad, so I encouraged him to retain this at all costs, assuring him that we would all buy into it. The fine detail about ball retention in the tackle could wait, because more often than not he wouldn't be tackled in the first place. I suspect Henry and the Baa-Baas players will take the same approach with Tomkins – that they will make the environment as comfortable as possible for him and let him perform. He is, very simply, a world-class rugby player. He can take the high ball, tackle, and kick when he feels it appropriate. What he does best, though, is use his elusive, loping running style to unbalance defenders, offload before and in contact and make clean line-breaks. With other high-calibre players around him, it will be required viewing. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=98 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=98 Along with many others, no doubt, I revelled in the opening round of the most exciting and challenging club competition in the northern hemisphere - the Heineken Cup - and I confidently expect this weekend’s programme to produce the same level of unpredictability, with a similar number of contests going down to the wire. After another exhausting few days for followers of English rugby off the field, the prospect of watching some high-intensity cross-border action, rather than reading and hearing about the post mortems and recriminations at international level, is deeply attractive. Last week’s Munster-Northampton match, which set the tone for the tournament, was fascinating in many ways and led to a remarkable denouement that would have forced many a scriptwriter to wonder whether he was over-egging things: 41-plus phases of ball retention with one aim in mind – to set up Ronan O’Gara for a shot at a match-winning drop goal. Through the calm and patient approach of the Munster players an opportunity finally arose and the nerveless Irishman did not disappoint. I suspect there were more than a few Welsh supporters who suddenly had a flood of unpleasant memories from the World Cup semi-final against France, when the same scenario unfolded with the opposite outcome. If this was dramatic edge-of-the-seat stuff, something similar was going on in south-west France in the Toulouse-Gloucester game, where the West Countrymen went close to pulling off a memorable victory. Both matches highlighted for me the importance of the driving maul as a technical and tactical weapon - and how little it is used in an effective fashion these days. Sacking the jumper at the line-out is de rigueur these days, but in scoring their first try, Munster showed that a little intelligent variation can overcome this form of defence. After that, both sides attempted to drive but neither succeeded in the same way. In Toulouse, the play was scarcely in evidence at all, even though the Frenchmen in particular are renowned for their ability to drive dynamically from all phases. On this occasion they appeared content to take the tackle and hit the ground early and easily, allowing Gloucester’s excellent line-speed to close down the midfield channel for large chunks of the contest. While the dynamic maul out of the tackle area has not quite gone out of fashion, it has certainly taken second place in the mindset to the ruck. Modern-day tackling techniques and the no-risk option of ball retention are no doubt contributory factors, but the value of staying on the feet – driving and spinning before breaking out with a running No 9 and hard-line support runners around him - must never be underestimated. Very few sides demonstrate the capacity to drive in the middle of phase play: to use the maul as a means of changing the focus of how an attack is shaped, to attract defenders to the tackle area, to vary the tempo of an attack. Too often the drive is used only in slow, straight-line fashion off a line-out, which engages four or five opposition players at best. This means that when the ball is released there are probably nine attackers against 11 or so defenders – not great odds in the pro game. There are far wider possibilities to be explored. Moving to another area of the game in Limerick, it was instructive to see the counter-attack from kick receipt in operation - particularly from an England perspective, as the Northampton backs Ben Foden and Chris Ashton, back in their club environment, were suddenly highly effective. I know the coach Jim Mallinder is a big fan of the counter-attack, as any former full-back of his stamp should be. He keeps the organisation simple, basing it on a high work-rate, an eyes-up approach and quick, clear communication. The key factor for the deep-lying players? Assess the opposition chase in terms of numbers, direction and spacing before moving the ball – or a colleague – to where the inevitable openings have emerged. To get this right, all 15 players, each of whom have primary and secondary roles to fulfil, must understand their duties. Mix these ingredients together while giving people license to have a crack and it’s a no-risk exercise. I must say that I enjoyed the performance of another Northampton back, Ryan Lamb: a talented footballer, the outside-half has had an uneven career to date and never really persuaded the powers that be that he has a game to offer on a higher stage. Yet his technique, vision and instinctive understanding of rugby’s intricacies allow him to play in the heavy traffic, as and when appropriate, rather than simply kick the ball away. In a team with so many line-breaking runners, he is developing nicely. Watching Gloucester is always a pleasure these days: the rich mix of young and experienced Cherry and Whites under Bryan Redpath’s leadership really do go out and play, and it almost paid off in Toulouse. They don’t need to beat themselves up over the fact that the result eluded them, for they held the initiative for long periods and will have noted one or two things to be wary of in the return match after Christmas: notably, that they should not over-kick, either in distance or frequency, to a full-back like Clement Poitrenaud who has made a career out of counter-attacking through the eye of the needle. In addition, Toulouse reminded us that they are one of the top sides in the world when it comes to attacking down narrow channels - anything from five to 15 metres in width. Their ability to hit the ball at pace, make subtle changes to their running lines and off-load before and in the tackle has been a part of their culture for the past 25 years. Allow them to generate momentum in this area at your peril. Gloucester will fancy their chances against all-comers at Kingsholm and so they should. More often than not they have a “to hell with the consequences” attitude about them, avoiding the stereoptyical in favour of the unexpected. It’s an on-the-edge way of operating but it’s devastating when successful. Long may they follow this road and stride ever more boldly along it. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=97 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=97 As I was away last week and did not write a column, I want to offer belated congratulations to the All Blacks on winning the 2011 World Cup. New Zealand were comfortably the best team in the tournament, if not necessarily in the final in which France again confounded all opinion and put in a massive performance. I am not sure that the "chokers" tag attached to New Zealand at World Cups will ever totally disappear but I suspect the All Blacks do not give a stuff. I have resisted commenting on England's efforts – on and off the field – and have no desire to go into detail already covered elsewhere. Suffice to say that they did not endear themselves to many people. World Cup captain Lewis Moody has flown the nest and made some interestingly strange comments regarding the behaviour of some of his squad-mates. Many of the remainder of the elite club/international game appear to be in a state of denial, self-preservation and hopeful re-ingratiation – all characteristics of the self-serving ruling classes. Post World Cup final interviews with head coach Graham Henry and captain Richie McCaw revealed the mindset the All Blacks have been developing to ensure they were in a position to deal with adversity in a positive manner. Adversity certainly appeared to envelop the No 10 jersey, from the loss during the qualifying pool stages of Dan Carter to a serious groin tear and the subsequent injuries to two successors. But New Zealand coped, and their fourth incumbent, Stephen Donald, kicked the winning points. Regular readers will know that I am a strong believer in technical, physical, tactical, lifestyle and mental skills: the ingredients for success. All these areas are important. The technical and physical underpin, and set, a performance default-line when fatigue kicks in. The area of coaching and preparation that has most interested me over the past decade, however, has been the contribution of the mental side of the game. It glues together all the other elements and maintains the route to success in hostile, pressurised environments. The mindset drives performance. McCaw spoke about the adaptability of the squad when adversity struck and of dealing with it, using clarity of thought and execution that enables a group to get back on task and, more importantly, remain there. Graham Henry made several references to the world of blue and red-headed behaviour that helped the group to recognise and understand early-warning signs of negative developments. If these distractions threaten to reduce control, the individual triggers were employed to get back to the job at hand. He referred to Brad Thorne pouring water over himself and McCaw stamping on the ground. I do not like the term "sports psychology" (it spooks me), but I am a fervent believer in the importance of developing mental skills, of developing the capacity to focus solely on the task at hand while ignoring diversions. There's an obvious list in rugby – personal dramas, game-plan failures, unexpected opposition performance, refereeing decisions, yellow and red cards and injuries to your best players. There are red-headed triggers that, if left to fester, can cause disruption, even to the best prepared teams. It is not enough, and indeed can muddy the waters, to have flying doctor-style visits by psychologists to provide short-term remedies. Mental skills must be an integral part of preparation on a regular basis. They improve with practice. All this leads to an interesting point. With the 2011 World Cup still 12 months away, Graham Henry, through the All Blacks' mental conditioning coach, Gilbert Enoka, enlisted the help of two directors and founding partners of Gazing Performance, Dr Ceri Evans and Renzie Hanham, to assist in mentally preparing the All Blacks, not just for the World Cup but during it. The fundamental premise of Gazing Performance is to provide a framework and tools that help people to think clearly and correctly under pressure by stripping away any mystique and complexity, for example making it readily accessible to all in any organisation. In 2002 I was asked by the Rugby Football Union to instigate a National Academy to develop young players who would embrace, and thrive in, a hostile environment. Our most important back-room appointment was to find someone who could help deliver this. Gazing Performance were employed as mental skills experts. The players engaged red-blue thinking immediately. The approach was easily understood and had practical applications. This was not generalisation about having confidence and belief, nor did it attempt to compare with neuro-biological science. It involved a common-sense approach, applicable to all areas of preparation. The sadness was that when I left the Academy in 2006, Gazing Performance disappeared as well. Unlike the All Black management, there were coaches who could not distinguish between mental and physical toughness, an absurdity when you will all have witnessed the most macho of players receive cards for disruptive behaviour, and how pressure can bring about poor decision-making from the hard men of the game. Mental skills are integral to preparation and success in all areas of life. Perhaps we should pay them a little more respect. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=96 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=96 So history is about to be re-enacted at Eden Park. Twenty-four years ago in the inaugural World Cup final, an outstanding team of men in black were comfortable victors over France – by common consent, David Kirk's ground-breaking side set new standards in international rugby – and many expect tomorrow's repeat showpiece on the same patch of turf to be equally conclusive. Certainly, the evidence from both the group phase and the knock-out stage suggests New Zealand should have little to fear come kick-off time. Not that they will be thinking in those terms. They need no counsel from anyone outside their tight-knit organisation, but I would advise them to dismiss completely all that has happened prior to this game. This has to be the right approach because it is crucial to guard against assumption. I suspect their main focus has been on themselves, because they have bought fully into the "performance ensures results" philosophy. They set such very high standards in the semi-final and while I accept this next match is a different animal, both from the point of view of the opposition and the scale of the occasion, I am certain they will set out to improve tomorrow. If that turns out to be the case, whatever the French throw at them will be to no avail. As an aside to the final, the fall-out from the controversial semi-final between France and Wales continues to circulate following Warren Gatland's announcement at a press conference that as a direct consequence of losing Adam Jones to injury and Sam Warburton to a sending-off, he and his staff considered cheating as a means of forcing uncontested scrums on the game. Many commentators suggested there may have been some previous history at club level in this regard and the International Rugby Board has taken it upon itself to look closely at the matter. It will be interesting to see how this pans out, for I know coaches whose thought processes would have been very similar to Gatland's. Me? I have no desire to claim the moral high ground but I would never consider going down such a route, even though I am well aware that in modern-day society, this might be seen as a sign of weakness. Incidentally, Wales were as heroic in defeat last weekend as the All Blacks were in victory. Had they been more accurate in the goal-kicking department, and had Stephen Jones bothered to take a pot-shot at goal during a final attack, maybe the two sets of heroes would be facing each other tomorrow. Is anything clear about Les Bleus as we head towards the climax of the competition? To my mind, there are two things. Firstly, they will have to re-evaluate their kicking-game approach in the light of last week's dreadful effort – not only in terms of the frequency of the kicking, but also in terms of accuracy. If they give as much free ball away as they did against Wales, the likes of Israel Dagg and Cory Jane will crucify them. From the decision-making perspective, Maxime Mιdard and Morgan Parra still seem slightly uncomfortable in their "new" positions of full-back and outside-half: certainly, both struggled, technically and tactically, against the Welsh. The former, presumably operating under orders, rarely contemplated a counter-attack even when his 14-man opponents kicked poorly to him. Parra? On three occasions, he immediately kicked back turnover ball from the tackle area – precisely the kind of possession French teams of the past have prayed for and thrived on. Secondly – and this is something I mentioned last week – the French must maintain intelligent flexibility in their defence. At 9-8 up and with a significant amount of time left on the clock, they allowed Wales countless opportunities to retain possession: an interesting choice in the circumstances, if one fully validated by the final score. In the closing period of the game, France committed only the initial tackler to the rucks and made no effort to steal the ball. Fourteen men stayed on their feet, half a metre onside, with the single aim of preventing the referee awarding a kickable penalty to the opposition. While this approach may have worked for them then, it will not be smart enough to keep out the All Blacks. New Zealand's forwards, so all-consumingly impressive against the Wallabies, will have to play at least as well again, for the French are no mugs in this area. While it may appear invidious to single out individuals for special attention, I would like to comment on two. Brad Thorn, bidding his farewell to the silver-ferned jersey tomorrow, has long been a favourite player of mine. A unique lock forward who has shuffled back and forth between the two rugby codes, he has won Grand Final titles with the Brisbane Broncos and represented the Kangaroos, the Australian national league side – arguably the best team in the world in either code. Hewn from granite, he always looks most animated when the going is at its toughest and never fails to make a full contribution in the dark areas of the game. He is also technically accomplished, as befits a former rugby league man, and his physical engine never switches off. The other is Richie McCaw, who last week reaffirmed his status as the world's number one No 7. The much talked-about David Pocock gave as good as he got in the early skirmishes, but as the game unfolded I felt McCaw had a significant advantage in one crucial area: the mental side of the game. His ability to stay fully focused on the task in hand despite the distractions of the moment and of the occasion marked him as a man apart – especially when Pocock resorted under pressure to questioning refereeing decisions in the second half. McCaw would have known then that the personal battle had been won. Speaking as an inhabitant of the northern hemisphere, I'm looking hard to see some light at the end of the tunnel for the French. I just hope they approach the game in a positive manner. They have some outstanding players on their teamsheet and the beauty of their best performances is their capacity to suddenly switch from one way of playing to another, to keep the opposition guessing as to what might happen next. Their game has not had this dimension in the tournament to date, so it has to be now or never. Even if they produce it, I believe the All Blacks will improve on the tempo and accuracy of execution they showed against the Wallabies – that they will be ruthless and play with great clarity. If this happens, they will be too good. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=95 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=95 While the England players will be watching events unfold from the comfort of their sofas, perhaps before playing for their clubs in low-key Anglo-Welsh matches – jet-lag? what jet-lag? – our near neighbours from across the bridge will be involved body and soul in the maelstrom of a World Cup semi-final. And deservedly so, for they have been superb. Much has been said and written about the England campaign but ultimately, when it counted on the field against France last weekend, they were not remotely good enough. Out-muscled and out-thought, especially in the first 40 minutes, they surrendered the game early and then found it impossible to claw back enough points after regrouping at the interval. Matt Stevens looked in difficulties at scrum time, the French challenged the England line-out in unusual areas of the pitch and their back row had far more fight and purpose about them in the tackle area. Technically speaking, there were far too many simple errors: indeed, the handling was way below par for an international side. There was a sharp contrast later in the day when I watched the Super League Grand Final between St Helens and Leeds, where, despite pretty poor conditions, the passing and receiving of the ball was spot on and done at pace. England didn't adapt tactically to a French game based on narrow-channel physicality and variety; smart, late-hitting strikes down the blind sides of the field; and astute aerial kicking from Dimitri Yachvili. Toby Flood, the England midfielder, was right when he remarked after the match that too few players engaged their brains sufficiently to handle the situation. And as Shaun Edwards, the Wales defence coach, pointed out, why would anyone ever write off the French having digested their playing record over the past 10 years? Whatever emotional state Les Bleus may turn up in, they have a greater innate understanding of the game than most, simply because of the way they are taught to play from a young age. Their game can appear to be based around the creation of chaos, but from this they so often recreate their own particular type of order and gain the upper hand. It's a concept rarely understood or practised by coaches in England: in fact, because of the apparent lack of coach-control associated with such a philosophy, people actively shy away from it. I have never understood this. Of course, all teams require a good conditioning base and the full set of technical equipment if they are to play well under pressure, but more important is the need to comprehend the when, the where and the why in terms of using the available tools. From the outside, Wales appear to be on a journey down this very road. Not long ago their attacking game came under severe criticism for its sideways meanderings and aimless/thoughtless kicking. They have undergone a dramatic reformation, partly through the introduction of some very bright youngsters who seem to have a no-fear approach, encouraged by the management. This has rejuvenated the older generation and driven them to produce a game good enough to trouble all three of the other teams left in the tournament. Crucially, conditioning levels have shot up. For years in the professional game, fitness has been the Welsh Achilles heel. Not this time round. The pain and sacrifice of the Polish pre-season camp laid strong foundations on which to build a team capable of thriving amid the attritional physicality of a World Cup. Add to this the emergence of a player-led environment off the field, in which people have accepted the imperatives of high-level performance, and it's no surprise that we're seeing this style of rugby from them. I've never doubted that the Welsh possess the wit, imagination and creativity to underpin a quest to match the world's best. Their downfall has been one of endurance. This issue has now been firmly put to bed. One of the major beneficiaries is the scrum-half Mike Phillips. His star had waned considerably in the months leading into this competition, to the extent that he had become a shadow – sometimes petulant, sometimes merely innocuous – of the player he was on the last Lions tour. Suddenly, he looks like the aggressive game-breaking player we all remember. The other plus is the emergence of the young captain Sam Warburton. Bright and articulate, Warburton deals with the media in an intelligent yet humble manner. Young in years he may be, but he plays the No 7 game like a veteran and is the glue that cements the eclectic young/old mix in the Wales camp. If they win today it will be fantastic to watch him competing against either David Pocock or Richie McCaw in the final tomorrow week. If? Beware the French. While other teams gather momentum over a period of time, they can do it off the back of a single performance. But how will they vary their attacking game in the face of an aggressive Welsh defence? While Les Bleus are past masters at playing from centre field drives and attacking the short side, I have no doubt that Yachvili's kicking game will have been noted by the men in red. Wales must look to set and maintain a high tempo, so the ability of their line-breakers to force their way on to the front foot and their back row to generate quick ball will be vital. They will certainly need to engage their brains to find a way through, over or around a French defence that varies itself with great subtlety within the context of an unfolding contest. The other semi-final throws together those arch-protagonists Australia and New Zealand. There is no love lost here, especially with the additional combustible ingredient of a Kiwi coach in Robbie Deans taking on a Kiwi coach in Graham Henry. The Wallabies mounted a remarkable defensive effort against the Springboks last week. Can they possibly repeat this? Much will depend on the willpower of the Aussie forwards and the ability of the backs to pull a few improbable rabbits out of the hat. They have done it before. All the New Zealand talk has been about the No 10 shirt and there are now two outside-halves in the squad – Aaron Cruden and Stephen Donald – who, just a few days ago, were skateboarding and whitebait fishing respectively. Who knows? Maybe this is the ideal preparation at this stage of proceedings. When he played against the Pumas last weekend, Cruden seemed sharp, fresh and wholly unfazed by occasion. But it is essential that the All Blacks offer him strong leadership and support, both off and on the field. The finalists? There are no easy calls to be made. I'm going for a New Zealand-Wales final, which means those Australians and Frenchmen who have followed my predictions will be delighted. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=94 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=94 As I sat down to write this column, I seriously contemplated driving six short miles up the North-west coast to Blackpool, where the illuminations season is in full swing and Gipsy Rose Lee is available for a crystal ball consultation. It would certainly be fascinating to hear her thoughts on French prospects in this morning's World Cup quarter-final with England in light of their performance against Tonga last weekend, which to my mind plumbed almost farcical depths. Tonga were very good on the day, but the body language of many of Les Bleus reminded me of their footballing equivalents at the global tournament in South Africa last year. "Where do I want to be?" they seemed to ask themselves, before replying: "Anywhere on the planet, or even off it for a brief while, if it means I don't have to represent my country in this particular contest." The Dimitri Yachvili-Morgan Parra combination, which I tried to fathom in a previous column, spectacularly failed to ignite. Yachvili performed an outstanding impersonation of a Second World War "Dam Busters" pilot with his bouncing-bomb service and he was not helped by Parra's audition for the main part in a modern-day remake of The Invisible Man. For a spell midway through the second half, he hardly appeared on the television screen, let alone in either half-back position. When you take into account the high error rate of the other 13 Frenchmen on the field, which was hard to credit, you have to say that had Tonga possessed a little composure to go with their attacking ambition, they would have gone perilously close to knocking Les Bleus out of the tournament. What the reaction would have been if this had come to pass, heaven only knows. Reactions are guaranteed this weekend, for there are no second bites of the cherry now. We have reached "Il momento della verita", as the Italians put it: suddenly, all the elements of high-level performance are exposed; there is no hiding place, no comfort zone. The environment will be challenging, unpredictable at times, and might quickly and easily turn into a hostile one. The battles that win the war are here to be fought and it is those who have the courage to fail who stand the best chance of succeeding. It would be too facile to drop into lazy journalism and trot out the old clichιs about England-France games: all the questions over which French side will turn up; the assumption that England have the Indian sign over their near neighbours in World Cup matches, having beaten them in both 2003 and 2007; the theory that if it rains as it did in Australia eight years ago, it will be a no-contest. Generally, I do not place much credence on interviews with players leading into games such as this, but I have read words from the fine French No 8 Imanol Harinordoquy this week that convince me that France will at least show more interest than they did against the very committed Tongans. However, the two No 9s remain together at half-back (and, I hope from an English point of view, will stay together), so there is still a strong element of uncertainty over how they will approach the game. England have had another of their "interesting" weeks off the field, with the message from more than one member of the squad being that the players have been brought closer by all the negative publicity. This may well be the case, but surely there are much easier ways of forging the bond needed to excel in a competition of this magnitude. As it is, Martin Johnson goes into the knockout stage with significant line-up changes. Tom Palmer for Courtney Lawes at lock? Maybe this is the direct result of the important role Palmer played at the line-out when he came off the bench against the Scots last week; maybe he is considered to be the man to crack the French code, given his first-hand knowledge of rugby in that country, where he plays with Stade Franηais, and his ability to speak the language. The way I see it, this is certainly an acknowledgement of the improvement Tom has made as a player, and his growth as a person, since crossing the Channel a couple of years ago. Nick Easter for James Haskell at No 8? Whatever perceptions people have of Haskell, he has played consistently well in this World Cup and will be desperately disappointed to miss out. The switch could be a sign that England want to use the drive as a major variation in their game. Certainly Easter, again as a replacement, was influential in this area last week, but there is a difference between impacting off the bench and doing the necessary from the kick-off. I'll be fascinated to see how this unfolds. And who would have thought it? Jonny Wilkinson and Toby Flood paired, in presumably interchangeable roles from the attacking viewpoint, at 10 and 12. This is a definite mindset shift by the management, for all the recent evidence pointed to an unshakeable commitment to a war of attrition in midfield, with the various combinations involving Mike Tindall, Manu Tuilagu and Shontayne Hape. Now, there is more variation and subtlety in the mix. Not to mention – dare one use the word? – creativity. Mike Catt, who understands the possibilities of the 10-12 footballing axis as deeply as any recent player of my acquaintance, has frequently called for this combination to be put in place and I just hope there is time for it to come to fruition in the context of this tournament. Wilkinson and Flood have joined forces in World Cup games before, even if they haven't started any, and they have a long history of helping each other out at club level. This, surely, is the essential point underpinning this selection: two midfielders reacting to one another, feeding off one another, working together. Here we have, in key decision-making positions, a pair of individuals offering a wide range of passing and kicking skills that should enable them to bring those around them into play. Flood, especially, has the will and the ability to take on the French defence and get his offloading game going. Of course, I could be totally mistaken about this selection: it might simply be a move designed to maximise territory – to have available, at most junctures of the game, a combination capable of turning the French back three with left and right-footed kicking. Another thought occurs: England may want Flood to increase the tempo of the game away from the set pieces, although this is not necessarily borne out by the decision to play Easter over the younger, quicker Haskell. I can only hope there has been an emphasis placed on generating fast possession from the tackle area, thereby minimising the need for Ben Youngs to dwell on the ball at the base. With Wilkinson and Flood both able to slot in at first receiver, the trick will be to get the thing into their hands as rapidly as possible. Finally, and most intriguingly, there can be a sharing and a shifting of the decision-making pressures – something of great value in the event of a dynamic and high-paced game. It means the player in the second receiver role – not necessarily the man with No 12 on his back – will have fractionally more time and space to assess situations, process information from others around him and guide the team down the right avenues at the right time, in the most appropriate manner. England obviously believe the link between Wilkinson and Flood stacks up defensively and the manager Martin Johnson has been quoted as saying that it opens up "exciting possibilities". I agree with him. I'll put my money on Wilkinson and Flood having a more positive influence on proceedings than Yachvili and Parra, and go for an England win. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=93 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=93 So the scene is set, 12,000 miles away from Hadrian's Wall, for the oldest of rugby enemies to meet in the final game of what has become a very tight World Cup pool. The permutations have been well chronicled: suffice to say that Scotland could totally derail England's campaign by winning this morning, while Martin Johnson's men could point Andy Robinson and his players in the direction of the departure lounge. When the teams played last weekend, there could not have been a greater contrast in fortunes. England easily overran a second-string Romanian side to assume pole position in the group while Scotland had a nightmare that may keep them awake in the small hours for some time. They must have kicked themselves hard after losing to Argentina. They might also have kicked Dan Parks, their outside-half, over his bizarre choice of play at the end of the game. Whether or not Felipe Contepomi, the Puma captain, was offside at the vital moment as the Scots claimed, Parks should never have contemplated an off-balance, wrong-footed drop goal. Correct thinking it was not. What to do in this situation? Retain the ball, regroup and have another pop when the odds are back in your favour. Scotland did the opposite. Parks has some previous in this regard and I was surprised he was on the field at all, as Ruaridh Jackson seemed to be doing a pretty competent job. Not all the blame falls on one man, however: Scotland created, then wasted, any number of opportunities, largely through the meandering nature of their attacks in the wider channels. And I haven't yet mentioned the blatant defensive errors that led to Lucas Amorosino's late try – the score that ultimately laid the ground for this morning's potentially titanic struggle. Whatever may have happened last weekend, there is no such thing as an easy match for England against the men from north of the border. For any number of reasons – historic and current, public and personal – this is a game all those associated with Scotland will be desperate to win. Add the adrenaline kick of playing rugby at a World Cup to the nationalistic emotions running around the Scottish dressing room, and you have a potent mix. They will be fired up, for sure. And then there is the Robbo dimension. Andy knows how these tournaments work, having tasted World Cup success in '03 when his "oppo" today, Martin Johnson, was skipper, and I know the pleasure he took in helping England reach the summit. He went on to succeed Clive Woodward as head coach – a job in which he took great pride. However, given the circumstances of his subsequent removal from the job by the Rugby Football Union, I can't imagine that his thoughts will be anywhere but with his own team this morning. In all my time in the game, I can't remember encountering an individual who brought more passion to his rugby, either as a player or a coach. I was assistant to Jack Rowell when Andy was awarded the captaincy at Bath and, believe me, heading up that side was never an easy job. There were so many top players and so many big egos, yet what seemed from the outside to be a disparate group was fused together by a collective attitude that was highly professional and ambitious. Andy was a pleasure to coach. Playing the way he did in the No 7 slot as our crucial link-man, he not only needed a wide-ranging understanding of the needs of forwards and backs alike but also had to develop a feel for the dynamic integrated game – a game in which he fully believed then and is trying to instil into the Scotland side now. However, there is also a pragmatic side to him, and this will manifest itself more in the Scotland performance today than it did against the Pumas. He does not suffer fools gladly. If I know Andy, he will be smarting from some things that happened last weekend and will be expecting some enhanced decision-making on this occasion. The last two meetings between the sides have been close: a draw at Murrayfield a couple of Six Nations Championships ago and a narrow victory for England in this year's tournament. In both matches the Scots generated enormous pressure at the tackle area, either stealing possession or slowing down opposition ball sufficiently for the defenders to win the race to the gainline and ask the England midfield attack the kind of questions they have yet to answer in this competition. Scotland will set out to play with characteristic fury and tempo. If the weather is wet and the grass slippery, Robbo's men will bring their appetite for destruction to the party. The task for England, therefore, is to control the tempo themselves. I'm not convinced they have enough belief, especially in a match of this nature, to attack from anywhere on the field, although when I remember Chris Ashton's wonderful try against Australia last November, I hope I'm wrong. As the Scots find it difficult to score from their own half, I expect England to play a game based around dominant field position, which will help them place the Scottish set-piece in a vice, and use strong defence to force their opponents to kick ball away or resort to the meandering brand of rugby that cost them dear against the Pumas. The Scots' kicking game has not been a forte of theirs in this tournament to date, so England's back three could have opportunities to return the ball with interest if they have the will to do so. I suspect England will be very direct in their early running: they will want to establish a rhythm and employ the appropriate number of players around the tackle area to generate quick ball. Ben Youngs will be a key figure in this at scrum-half. Just as England must focus on the collision areas and mix up their approach in order to establish good positions, so the Scots will have to play much smarter in retaining and using possession in ways that will cause problems. And I should add this one rather obvious point: individual emotional control could play a significant role in the outcome if the scores remain close. No doubt players on both sides will set out to wind up certain opponents – in the nicest possible way, of course – but discipline will be so important. I'm going with an England win: I think they have the better players and more often than not, this is the factor that makes the difference. I do not, however, dismiss lightly the Robbo influence. This could be his moment. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=92 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=92 A predictable set of results from the first round of World Cup matches? Yes, on the face of it. But the scorelines masked some deep anxieties affecting all the Six Nations teams as they launched their campaigns. Let's begin with Italy, whose big forwards fought valiantly against Australia, encouraged by some formidable box-kicking from their scrum-half Fabio Semenzato. Yet ultimately, they had no answer to the Wallabies wearing the Nos 9 to 15 – gifted players who hinted very strongly that they may be the most potent attacking force in the tournament. They are blessed with genuine pace, possess a wide range of passing and running skills, have three or four options on each of their set plays and they dare opponents not to make errors by operating directly in their faces. When they started to make things happen for themselves in the second half of the game on Auckland's North Shore, they looked very threatening indeed. Ireland, and Scotland (twice) pieced together victories without ever suggesting that they were firing on all four cylinders, while France found themselves being tested by one of the real surprise packets of the opening weekend: Japan, who reached the last 10 minutes a mere four points adrift and were attacking furiously, maintaining a remarkably high tempo and combining the short pass with ever-reliable support to ask awkward questions of their supposed superiors. Once again, an unheralded half-back – Fumiaki Tanaka in this case – caught my eye. His refusal to dwell at the base of the ruck, his quick delivery of the ball... these were important elements in Japan's performance and had they possessed a skillset to equal their will and ambition in the final stages of the contest, the result may have been different. As it was, the French showed that they have not lost the art of maximising any turnover ball that might be gifted them. England and Argentina provided a full-frontal assault of a match that typified the traditional strengths of both nations. Well done Ben Youngs for providing the sliver of something different that gave England victory in a game they always knew would be extremely difficult. They will be deeply relieved at the outcome. Since then, being England, they have attracted widespread criticism on a variety of topics: numbers falling off their black Nike shirts; the bungee-jumping and whitewater-rafting exploits of the more adventurous spirits in the party; the "relaxing" drink enjoyed by some players in Queenstown on Sunday night. This is all part of being England at a World Cup tournament and I have no doubt that certain hangers-on from the non-rugby press are lapping it up. Ironically, the best performance from a Six Nations team came from the one losing side. Wales found themselves embroiled in a pulsating match with South Africa, the reigning champions. The game was not without its controversy, but leaving aside James Hook's penalty miss, which may have been nothing of the sort, events in Wellington illustrated two things. Firstly, it reminded us that however mediocre the Springbok display may be across large stretches of a contest, they are always prepared to battle for the full 80 minutes. Among other virtues, they are particularly adept at securing good field position when the situation really cries out for it, and from the ensuing set-pieces they have the ability to play through three phases or more, using their strong forwards to generate quick ball. With the game in what I call its "fatigue stage", this exerts enormous pressure on defenders to fall in on the far side of the tackle. When this happens, they can be too slow in thought and motion to adjust to the pace of Springbok execution. In the Wales game we saw the high-quality scrum-half Fourie du Preez and his short-side wing running from blind to open and finding the crucial hole in the barricades. How often have we witnessed this from Du Preez? Many times, frequently in matches of great importance. The second stand-out point was the adaptability of the Welsh approach in attack after half-time. They have been criticised in the past for meandering sideways towards the touchlines, their backs too flat to present any real threat. They were not guilty of this here. It was evident from the off that South Africa had decided not to allow Wales into the wider channels, and were primarily using two preventative measures: the umbrella defence, in which the outside defenders press more quickly than the inside men while maintaining the disciplines of correct spacing and combined forward movement; and the individual "bolter", usually Jaque Fourie in the No 13 channel, who moved up fast to minimise the risk of the first or second receiver going wide with his pass. Initially, Wales fell into the trap, attempting kicks and passes over the top. This either made life easy for the full-back Frans Steyn or created a risk of the poachers on either wing, Bryan Habana and J P Pietersen, sniffing out an interception. And when Wales tried to address this by running their big men off the scrum-half Mike Phillips, they fell foul of the even bigger men in the Springbok pack. Enter into the attacking equation the smallest man on the field, Shane Williams. He started popping up all over the place – sometimes at nine, sometimes at 10, on other occasions at 12 – and began to create opportunities, partly through his pace and footwork and partly through his raw courage in taking on the heavy-duty South African tacklers. Suddenly, space appeared for Jamie Roberts, who either ran lines between scrambling defenders or zeroed in on the Springbok outside-half Morne Steyn, who seemed less than enthusiastic in contact. No more free gifts from the boot, no more floated passes. By switching from the speculative to the confrontational, Wales went straight to the heart of the champions' defensive structure and almost broke it. There is a lesson here. Who will make the best job of learning it? Key questions Questions raised by the first weekend of World Cup action? There were many, but here are the ones I consider most significant: 1 The ball and the kickers. At what stage will the latter exert a satisfactory degree of control over the former? 2 How influential will the out-and-out open-side flankers be over the course of the tournament? 3 The physicality levels are already sky-high. This is bound to take its toll come the later stages of the competition, and when it does, will it open the gate for the high-tempo teams and their match-winning runners? http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=91 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=91 The seventh Rugby World Cup begins today and as this is ostensibly a rugby column, there is only one subject worthy of discussion. There are, however, many ways of viewing a competition of this magnitude, not all of them solely through the prism of the union game. International sport in its broad range of manifestations is about performing at the very highest level, and there are many fascinating links and parallels between different disciplines. I've written before about the shared demands of rugby union and Test cricket, and the similarities strike me once more as the big event in New Zealand shifts into gear. So let me begin by acknowledging the outstanding exploits of the England cricketers in whitewashing India and claiming the world No 1 spot – an achievement Martin Johnson and his rugby squad will be looking to emulate by reaching, and winning, their final in Auckland on 23 October. Let me also confess to being one of the "numpties" who briefly fell into the trap of wondering whether those comprehensive Test victories were all they seemed to be in light of the lack of devil in the Indian bowling and their less than committed efforts in the field. I should have known better, having coached at elite level, and I was brought back to reality by one Andrew Flintoff when we met in the street near my home in Lytham St Annes. He rightly pointed out, in no uncertain terms, that as achieving top spot in a team sport is not something that happens regularly in this country that this was something to be celebrated properly or not at all. Hats off, then, to two of his fellow Andrews, Flower and Strauss, and all those players who demonstrated not only a formidable collective will, but also great individual leadership when the occasion demanded. Every time a critical situation arose, someone stepped into the firing line and delivered. This is THE essential match-winning quality in high-level team sport. There is a strong connection with rugby here: a common theme of identifying, creating and attacking space. I had the privilege 18 months ago of lunching with Graham Gooch and we exchanged views on coaching. He almost choked when I referred to him as a "batting coach". "I am a run-making coach," he said, drawing a subtle but enormous distinction. In rugby terms, he was describing the difference between an "attack coach" and someone who coaches a team to score tries – the difference between a traditional coach and a push-the-boundaries coach. During this World Cup, I hope to see the space issue being recognised, pursued and exploited by England's players in much the same way as the England batsmen addressed it. In both sports, we have players with excellent technique that allows them to play the ball into space. I draw a similarity here between Ian Bell and Jonny Wilkinson, both of whom have honed their core skills to a degree that allows them to exploit areas left unmarked by the opposition, even in the most pressurised circumstances. Then there are the "power units", the men who create space by bludgeoning and blasting holes in defences. England's latest X-factor player, the centre Manu Tuilagi, and the often spiky Kevin Pietersen are both front-foot, up-and-at-'em types who seek to impose themselves on events. Both like to dominate and intimidate. Finally – and here we encounter uncertainty in the England rugby camp – there is the player who, when space is at an absolute premium, pulls strings intuitively and inventively to create it. Eoin Morgan strikes me as a cricketer of this type, with the courage to cry freedom, to go exploring in a dangerous environment in the knowledge that the first mistake might well be the last. Rugby is more sympathetic in this sense: there is often a chance for a player to atone for error. Yet as far as the England World Cup squad is concerned, no name jumps off the page and makes me think: "There is our Morgan – a man blessed with the intuition and self-belief to change the nature of a contest." Having coached England at the last World Cup four years ago, I can tell you that these contenders are much better prepared this time round. So they should be, for the circumstances – not least in terms of time spent together, of continuity of training and team-building – are entirely different. At the same time, it is equally true to say that the range and tempo of the world game has moved on since 2007. The narrow, supremely bloody-minded rugby we ended up playing four years ago will not be good enough to reach the latter stages of this tournament. England have a sound set-piece game and their defence, while still vulnerable to an attack that quickly changes form and focus, is in pretty good shape. Then there is the continuing ability of Wilkinson to keep the scoreboard ticking over. Conditioning levels are also high. However, they still have to find a way of prospering against the stranglehold defence, especially in the midfield channels. Only then can the wider attackers be released into the less populated defensive areas. Also, they need to find a way of combating the ferocity, technical precision, physicality and ruthless mentality we are seeing from the best sides in the tackle area, especially when the ball is on the ground. If these issues can be resolved, and the management can find an Eoin Morgan or two to do the unexpected, who knows what might happen? As for Dunedin tomorrow, I expect England to get things moving with a good win over the Pumas. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=90 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=90 It may be old news, but as it was – and is – such good news for the sport in the northern hemisphere, I have no hesitation in celebrating the tremendous efforts of the two Heineken Cup finalists, Leinster and Northampton, in Cardiff last weekend. This top-class tournament regularly produces more interesting, thought-provoking rugby than the Six Nations and the climax was nothing short of sensational. All followers of the union game, whether they are fiercely partisan or wholly impartial, have strong views on how it should be played. I cannot believe any of them were left dissatisfied by what they witnessed on this occasion. There were so many unexpected things to savour in what I can only describe as the rugby equivalent of a bag of liquorice allsorts, and while Leinster eventually came through, they had to reinvent themselves at the midpoint of the contest after a deeply troubling 40 minutes in which Northampton threatened to blow them clean out of the Millennium Stadium, across the water and back to Dublin. Unfortunately for Jim Mallinder and his men, that intensity could not be sustained over the stretch. After another punishing season of Premiership activity, I am quite willing to believe that fatigue played its part, especially as Leinster had been able to rest one or two individuals in the run-up. Even so, the Dubliners' metamorphosis was remarkable. Technically speaking, their first-half performance resembled that of an indifferent school side – the Under-14 B team sounds about right – yet after the break they were their formidable, overwhelming-on-all-fronts selves. Much has been made of Brian O'Driscoll's influence, but they now have something else working in their favour, off the field as well as on it: the Jonny Sexton factor. The outside-half is fast maturing into a genuine commander – certainly, Northampton could not live with the breadth and variation at the heart of his game – and, given the outstanding performances we have seen from him in recent high-profile matches, Ireland's forthcoming World Cup campaign should be very interesting indeed. Here's hoping for a similar extravaganza in this afternoon's Premiership final. Yes, the big day has at last arrived after nine long months of tough, exhausting rugby, and I think it right that the teams finishing first and second in the table after the regular season, Leicester and Saracens, should be the ones chasing the silverware. Last year's decider between the same clubs was a real thrills-and-spills affair. If this one is as close, the tension level will be high. These sides have favoured the physical over the cerebral this season, so another almighty, collision-based contest can be guaranteed. Or can it? Both have the personnel and the capacity to play with a little more width and imagination than we have seen over the past weeks and months, and I would love to see them take the opportunity to do so as and when it arises. I ventured to suggest last week that teams adopting a proactive mentality on the big occasion can reap handsome rewards, and at different times during the European final, both Leinster and Northampton showed this to be true. With Sexton's performance so fresh in the mind, I can't help thinking that the two No 10s will be the focal points today, the people who mark the difference between success and failure. Of course, much depends on how the players in the shirts numbered one to eight sort things out between themselves, but Toby Flood and Owen Farrell will be the ones charged with making the most of the indifferent possession that is so often the staple diet in these win-or-bust encounters. The individual who does this best will give his team a significant advantage. An intriguing duel in prospect, then: the man in possession of the England shirt against one of the most promising pretenders (although it is possible to argue convincingly that both are better suited to the inside centre role). Toby has been there and done it for club and country, but just recently he has not performed with any great consistency. The ability to navigate the field – to move a side into the right areas of the pitch at the right moments, particularly when possession is not of the highest, go-forward quality – is the defining criterion of the top-class No 10. If the Saracens back-rowers, not to mention their all-action hooker Schalk Brits, can pressurise both Flood and his partner Ben Youngs, it will be fascinating to see how they respond. Owen, on the other hand, is a young lad in his first season among the grown-ups, but to judge by the composure he has shown in the white heat of battle, it seems he is blessed with the full set of Farrell sporting genes. It's difficult to imagine Leicester standing back and allowing him the time and opportunity to indulge himself: they are past masters at closing down key players in big games like this one. However, if they do get in his face, he can draw on the fact that he survived a trial of strength and nerve against the destructive French flanker Serge Betsen in the Sarries-Wasps game earlier this season. As I remarked at the time, that single experience was worth an entire multitude of coaching sessions. As with all games of this magnitude, it is a close one to call. Leicester must wish they had a fit Geordan Murphy among their number, for without him, only Scott Hamilton seems likely to conjure up something exotic. I know it is foolish to bet against the Tigers on these occasions, but I feel Saracens may just be the ones who find a way of producing the special twist that tweaks the game their way. 'Survival Sunday' gives rugby's rulers food for thought If the drama and excitement of the Heineken Cup final left us tingling, there was more of the same 24 hours later when the Premier League's "Survival Sunday" kicked off. I cannot clearly recall how many times the relegation calculation changed during the course of those 90 minutes – was it eight? was it 14? – but I was hooked on watching the players and managers deal with a pressure-cooker situation in real time. Commiserations to those who disappeared through the trapdoor; congratulations to those who avoided the drop. No doubt all those rugby administrators responsible (or not so responsible) for the decision-making process surrounding promotion and relegation in the English club game watched the theatricals unfold with keen interest! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=89 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=89 Surely it is the fervent wish of most of those involved in this sport of ours that the talking points thrown up by today's Heineken Cup final in Cardiff concern the quality of the contest on the field. Please, please: no more adolescent punching or vitriolic outbursts from coaches for whom the margins between genuine passion and a deep-rooted desire to shift blame have become worryingly blurred. We can also live quite happily without players tweeting their thoughts to the world, especially when they use deeply inappropriate political metaphors in an effort to make their point. Ultimately, I suppose, all the above are reflections of modern-day society, and in this sense, should we really think of this behaviour as unusual, or be surprised by those who would argue for leniency and raise all manner of mitigation in support of the perpetrators? For my part, my hero of last weekend was Chris Ashton, the Northampton wing thumped so publicly by the Leicester centre Manu Tuilagi during the Premiership semi-final at Welford Road. He demonstrated that a man bearing his surname and hailing from the district borough of Wigan, who happened to learn his sporting trade in the 13-a-side game, can take a punch, ride its effects and forgive. The lesson? Ignore the Ashtons of this world at your peril! They'll always bounce back and bite you one way or another. Let's shift the focus to this afternoon's climax to the European season. The most intriguing question surrounds Northampton's ability to hit the ground running, mentally as well as physically, following last weekend's bruising defeat. Have the scars healed? They were out on their feet at the end of the Leicester game and little wonder, given the enormous pressure they were forced to absorb and the huge tackling load they found themselves carrying. Add the post-match distractions preying on the minds of the players and it's clear the coaching staff have had their work cut out. I'm sure Jim Mallinder, Dorian West and Paul Grayson – a back-room team who have been gaining valuable hands-on experience virtually by the game – will have identified the issues and set about their jobs in a thoroughly professional manner. Jim has impressed me for a while now and, in his past-match interview at Welford Road, he was outstanding in his calm, considered handling of a difficult situation. Together with his close colleagues, he will have provided his players with an intelligently pieced-together timetable of rest and recovery, combined with a fresh focus geared totally towards the task in hand. If I'm right in my suspicion that Northampton go into their final with Leinster as slight underdogs, they can draw on it: when you're cast as outsiders, why not use it as a two-fingered, up-yours motivational tactic? But they must take a positive approach. If semi-finals are notorious for generating an all-embracing restrictive mentality, finals should always have a sense of anticipation and potential enjoyment about them. They offer an opportunity to puff out the chest and show real courage in all its facets. Neither Northampton nor Leinster will be found wanting for courage in the physical sense. It is mental courage that is likely to be the key factor. There will have been much talk in the rival camps of bringing everything to the table today, of not leaving ammunition locked up in the armoury. But who can translate the message into action most effectively amid the hurly-burly and the hostility? We're talking here of my favourite high-performance topic: namely, who will have the balls to summon a flash or two of paradigm-shift thinking, a "something completely different" spark that can upset the rhythm and change the nature of a contest, thereby taking the opposition by surprise, sow confusion and force them on to the back foot, even if only momentarily? I always found this to be the most exciting part of the challenge when, from the late-1980s to the mid-1990s, I had the good fortune to be involved with a Bath side who made regular visits to Twickenham cup finals. It will be fascinating to see when and how such moments unfold. They cannot happen unless two crucial elements underpinning winning rugby in the big-game environment are put in place. The first of these is the establishment of a superior work rate, both with and without the ball. Adrenalin will help the energy levels in the first quarter, but it is the team with the greater mental fortitude who will gain the edge in the final quarter, when the critical moments arise. The second element concerns basic skill and technique, which must stand up to the severest scrutiny under pressure. This is most obviously based around the set piece and the tackle area, but as sides in different parts of the world have been demonstrating, accuracy in executing core skills away from the major "collision" phases can open up avenues of opportunity even when the quality of possession and precise nature of field position are less than ideal. This is a contest to relish, staged in an arena – the Millennium Stadium – fit for the occasion, especially if they shut the roof and guarantee optimum conditions for the players. The winner? Leinster's all-court game should nudge things their way, but this doesn't mean I rule out the possibility of an underdog upset. How's that for an exercise in fence-sitting? Roses-tinted view of the amateur era There was a time when the County Championship was an important stepping stone to higher honours, especially for us northerners, and many veterans of battles past congregated last weekend for the Lancashire-Yorkshire match at Fylde. This particular local argument began, as the historians among you will know, as far back as 1485, and has continued in all areas of sport – and indeed life – ever since, generally in a good-humoured fashion. The game itself was pretty ordinary, but it was a good excuse for a catch-up. A former England coach and three former England captains were among the friends and playing acquaintances from years gone by who were present, and, of course, we indulged in maudlin reminiscences about the amateur era and all its faults. In light of my comments at the start of this column, we must all be deeply thankful that the game turned professional! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=88 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=88 Despite generating more than its fair share of tension – agonising tension as far as those languishing at the bottom of the Premiership are concerned – the bizarre second division Championship scenario does not appear to have many supporters, either inside or outside the game. Many critics can be heard advocating the ring-fencing of the elite league, with a three-year franchise format the most popular model. This idea has been kicking around for years now, but there is suddenly a fresh surge of energy behind the argument that it should become reality. Among those who back ring-fencing, there is an assumption, tacit or otherwise, that the removal of the relegation risk will "free up" the club rugby produced in this country and turn it into a more "attractive spectacle", whatever that means. Perhaps they hope to see some English replicas of the Crusaders-Sharks Super 15 show laid on at Twickenham a few weeks ago, although anyone who watched the Sydney-based Waratahs' attritional battle with the Perth-based Western Force last weekend will realise that life is not all champagne and pyrotechnics down there below the Equator. Speaking as someone who has coached for many moons, at all levels of the game, I have to question this assumption. I am not at all sure that by eliminating relegation the powers that be would make any kind of initial impact on the quality and style of rugby played at the elite end of the English league structure, let alone a significant one. Fear of losing is endemic in professional sport across the spectrum and while the pressure may be less intense when there is no risk of falling through the trapdoor at the end of a campaign, any meaningful change would require a transformation of the general coaching mindset that could not happen overnight. There is little doubt that at a relatively early stage in the Premiership season it is clear which of the sides are likely to be involved in a battle to avoid the drop. The theory then goes like this: to survive, these teams must play in a low-risk – preferably no-risk – manner, limiting themselves to a narrow approach specifically geared to the avoidance of defeat. It won't surprise you to learn that I beg to differ with the theory. Has anyone considered the possibility that by following such an unenterprising course, teams might actually deepen the hole in which they find themselves? In January 2006, I returned to one of my old haunts, the Recreation Ground, for a second stint with Bath. At the time, they were embroiled in what looked suspiciously like a looming relegation scrap and had locked themselves into a remarkably restrictive, proscriptive way of playing the game. The so-called "playbook" was as thick as an encyclopedia and was said to hold all the answers to all the questions. There were no-go areas all over the pitch from which attacking rugby was not encouraged, and the mantra of "field position" had taken on the weight of the word of God. Three international backs had left as a result of this policy, a downward spiral was in motion and the atmosphere was riddled with fear. Fortunately, there was a strong, talented group of players at the Rec, people who were both willing and equipped to address the situation in a different, challenging way. Together – and it had to be a joint venture – we developed a mentality under which every piece of possession was viewed as an opportunity, rather than a threat. To put it at its most simple, we replaced negatives with positives. As a result, we quickly moved away from the relegation zone and made it all the way to the last four of the Heineken Cup. Most players, it seems to me, relish this kind of challenge and feel liberated when it dawns on them that many of the things considered too risky are in reality nothing of the sort. There is no rocket science here: this is all about intelligent decision-making, rooted in simple rugby logic. There are three key elements: identifying an appropriate attacking shape; getting the players to work hard on the skills and techniques necessary to bring that shape to bear on the opposition; and encouraging what I call the "play to score" mindset. This is a very different philosophy to the one that says "when in trouble, don't try anything". Many teams of all standards function through a series of patterns and systems based around tight organisation and pre-planned plays. In attack, players "carry" the ball, set "targets" and are encouraged to retain possession by "going through the phases" without considering for a moment the ever-changing dynamics of the game evolving around them. Others, far fewer in number, prefer something a little more ambitious. They do not shun organisation, but they deal in strategic overviews, in general principles of play, in interpretation. To my mind, there is no disputing that this method is more potent. It is, however, more of a long-term project, requiring consistent hard work, considerable patience, a good deal of mutual trust and a deep sense of belief. Which is why, I suppose, so many teams avoid it, especially when relegation rears its ugly head. However, when fully operational, the rugby it produces is effective in all environments, however, difficult. Yes, even when the trapdoor is starting to open. Redpath deserves reward for putting Kingsholm back on map I was delighted to see one of the more enlightened coaches in the Premiership, Bryan Redpath of Gloucester, being offered a contract extension at Kingsholm. During his days as Scotland's scrum-half, he was one of the most incisive, innovative No 9s around. Happily, he is gradually bringing those qualities to his work in one of the great hotbeds of the English game and turning the Cherry and Whites into one of the most interesting sides in the country. With a judicious mix of personnel – youngsters as vibrant as Charlie Sharples, Henry Trinder and Freddie Burns are operating with some very knowing old heads – Gloucester have produced some thrilling counter-attacking rugby this term. It may be a little too early for them to win the title, but they already have one trophy to show for their season's efforts and I sense they have won the hearts of the Kingsholm faithful into the bargain. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=87 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=87 You had to feel for Alan Tait and Neil Back, the head coaches at Newcastle and Leeds, as they saw their Premiership futures flash tantalisingly before their eyes last weekend. I can only imagine what they were thinking as Worcester struggled to overcome a courageous and adventurous Bedford side who, under the weird and wonderful promotion rules, came within a few minutes – and, indeed, a few inches – of keeping both northern clubs in the elite league. By the same yardstick, what did Richard Hill, the rugby director at Worcester, make of the proceedings, especially in respect of the celebratory non-try scored by one of his forwards? Knowing Richard as I do, I'd be astonished if the incident wasn't discussed, fully and frankly, in the after-match review. Bedford had nothing to lose in that Championship semi-final at Sixways, for the very good reason that they did not meet the promotion criteria. Neither do Cornish Pirates, who meet Worcester in the final over two legs, starting in Penzance on Wednesday night. Richard is still 160-plus minutes of rugby away from knowing his side's fate, as are one of Leeds and Newcastle, depending on who sits at the foot of the table later today. I'm suspicious of play-offs in general – far from having the welfare of the players at heart, they are driven purely by commercial considerations – but what we have here is a full-blown farce: a system that not only makes it possible for a team finishing eighth of 12 in the regular season to win promotion, but sanctions semi-finals in which only one of the four contenders can graduate to the top tier. You couldn't make it up? It seems someone has. A few rungs down the ladder, I notice that the play-off date for the last promotion spot into National League One is 28 May – an interesting piece of scheduling, given that the regular season's official finishing date was 30 April. One of the play-off contenders, Jersey, have four blank weeks while their likely opponents from postponement-hit National League Two North will be playing regularly ahead of the decisive match. There is an imbalance here: we know from past Premiership play-off mess-ups that these situations generally favour the more active team. We are talking about rugby at a level where players still play primarily for fun and are now in danger of being significantly inconvenienced. Some will have booked holidays well in advance of the decision to extend the season; others are half-decent performers in one of the summer sports and find themselves being pulled two ways. Another scenario you couldn't make up? There it is, in stark reality. A downside of writing a Saturday column is that a great deal of the week's news has been reported and discussed to death long before we get to the weekend. However, there are some topical issues I consider worthy of comment, even though I wish they hadn't got going in the first place. I speak of outbreaks of indiscipline. Joining the likes of Andrew Powell, Ben Foden and Gavin Henson in making the sporting headlines for the wrong reasons just recently were Delon Armitage (again) and Danny Cipriani (again). I cannot believe all the aforementioned failed to realise that their actions would provoke a media frenzy, but they did what they did anyway. It might just be worth their while taking time out, without a drink in hand, to reflect on the views and behaviour of two genuine English superstars of the world game over the last decade. The views are those of Jonny Wilkinson, arguably the highest-profile player in the sport since 2003. He has accepted, with his customary good grace, the apology made by Henson to his Toulon team-mates following the well-publicised incident in a bar on the Cτte d'Azur last month, acknowledging that drink was involved and stressing that he and his colleagues are keen to make another attempt to integrate the troubled Welsh soul into the group. He also had some understanding words to say about Cipriani, crediting him for the courage he showed in breaking away to a new rugby scene in Australia (not that many in this country share that opinion!). In essence, Wilkinson highlighted the importance of Cipriani finding an environment in which he could bring the best out of himself, just as Jonny appears to be doing in Toulon. Wilkinson is as outstanding a man as he is a rugby player, someone who has consistently followed the path of excellence without embracing the celebrity lifestyle and falling into its traps. Others should take note. As for the behavioural trait that our band of miscreants might like to ponder, it belongs to Jason Robinson, with whom I have had the privilege of working again this season. His on-field ability at world level has never been questioned, and the same goes for his generosity towards, and understanding of, his fellow human beings, even though he had to fight his way up from tough beginnings in life. Jason always worked hard to be the best he could be and has continued to do so, even while playing level-four rugby at Fylde. In addition, he has been magnificently proactive in advising fellow players of all standards, and when he scored our final try of the season last weekend, the reception was one of genuine warmth. Individuality, determination and the pursuit of excellence can go hand in hand with a sense of responsibility and compassion. Two of rugby's greats have clearly demonstrated this, and if it's good enough for them... Toulouse's Noves knows how to lose gracefully – unlike some Congratulations to Leinster and Northampton on reaching the Heineken Cup final with excellent wins last weekend. I may have missed it, but I can't recall any talk about the iniquities of the English salary cap, along the lines of last year. I wonder why. What I did pick up was the reaction to defeat in Dublin from the Toulouse coach, Guy Noves. In acknowledging Leinster's superiority, Noves was big enough to imply that while his players had done everything in their power to win the game, they had simply come up short. Compare this to the verbal meanderings and accusatory aggression of the Real Madrid coach, Jose Mourinho, following his team's defeat by Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Enough said. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=86 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=86 As befits my former association with the Bath club, I watched their demolition of Wasps in the St George's Day Special at Twickenham with considerable delight, and I was particularly happy for Steve Meehan, who succeeded me as head coach five years ago and is about to leave for pastures new. Admittedly, Bath were helped to a surprising degree by the Londoners' poor one-on-one tackling and lethargic approach to defensive organisation, but Steve has always sought to play a game full of pace, enterprise and dynamism – the kind of rugby that asks questions of his own players, as well as their opponents. It is not the easiest of routes to follow, but when things work as they should, the result can be spectacular, as we saw during the course of last Saturday's rather one-sided contest. The solid forward foundation laid by the Bath pack meant the half-backs, Michael Claassens and Sam Vesty, had the time, space and opportunity to launch a raft of runners in a wide variety of ways that caused Wasps no end of trouble. Matt Banahan, in the unfamiliar starting position of inside centre, revelled in the attacking freedom afforded him, as did Nick Abendanon and Tom Biggs. Steve must have drawn great satisfaction from the sight of players putting his ideas into practice and working so hard to bring them to fruition. The team's willingness to attack, combined with their clinical execution, was highlighted most strikingly by one of Biggs's scores, which went something like this: Wasps are turned over, David Flatman pops the ball off the ground to Claassens, who promptly moves it wide to Banahan in space, who works the two-on-one perfectly to send Biggs on his way to the line. Three passes, 70 metres covered, one try. Some of the rugby at Twickenham was so good, it further whetted my appetite for today's Heineken Cup semi-final between Leinster and Toulouse in Dublin – a game between two very superior sides, and one I shall relish watching from the comfort of my armchair. Both are capable of playing in a way that destroys defensive "systems" and disorientates defensive mindsets. Amen to that, I say. Toulouse have been developing their unique style for more than 30 years now, their enlightened philosophy underpinned by longevity and continuity in the coaching department. When we watch them at their best, playing rugby based around the continuous movement of players and ball alike and switching the point of potential penetration to keep opponents guessing while stuck on the back foot, we know we are looking at a team with tradition and progression in perfect balance. This is not to say they play the beautiful game at all times, regardless of circumstances. Toulouse can mix it with the best of them when the occasion demands: they are always mentally confrontational, they can do the physical bit if necessary, and they are not afraid to adopt the pragmatic approach. But their opponents are always aware that they have in their armoury an arsenal of weaponry that can be unleashed for 10 or 20 minutes in the middle of the game and blow away even the strongest club outfits. It is all very well people knowing this about Toulouse but dealing with the reality of it is very different, as Leinster may find this afternoon. The good news from their perspective is that nowadays, they are no shrinking violets in any department of the game. They have found a way of coupling the attacking verve that has always been a part of their make-up with a recently-discovered steeliness of body, mind and spirit. Accusations that they are a soft touch no longer bear examination, either up front or behind. Just ask Leicester. Equipped with players who can hold their own at the set-piece and the tackle area, such crucial parts of the game at elite level, they also have the bounce of Eoin Reddan at No 9 and the ever-maturing Jonathan Sexton at No 10. Sexton can move his team around the field as and when required, but also has the instinct and skill-set to bring into play the likes of Gordon D'Arcy, Brian O'Driscoll et al – backs as threatening as they are talented. Toulouse will have to watch the outside-half carefully, for he has an impish unpredictability about him. Of course, the Frenchmen have tasted more success than anyone over the 15 years or so of European rugby and have proved adept at winning the really close-fought games on the biggest stages. But has there ever been a more determined, competitive leader than O'Driscoll? Still ablaze with ambition, his exhortative qualities seem to grow year on year. Only a very brave man would bet against a team of his, playing in the Irish capital. It will be an enthralling occasion, and I think Leinster might just sneak it. Northampton, having negotiated a tough eight days fairly successfully, will have gulped some fresh air into their lungs in preparation for the massive physical collision with Perpignan tomorrow. I believe the midfield of Stephen Myler, James Downey and Jon Clarke holds the key for them. If they can consistently win the race to the gainline – with the ball and without it – it could turn out to be a famous day for the Midlanders. Good to see there's still a small space for game's little masters At the other end of the age-group spectrum, England's Under-16 team beat Wales at my "home" club of Fylde over the Easter weekend. School meals must have improved dramatically since my days in the classroom, judging by the size and physique of these young players. Indeed, it was hard to believe that some of them were still 15. Fortunately for those of us who are vertically challenged, we were able to watch Simon Sexton, the England scrum-half – a human being constructed on a more recognisable scale. He was agile, quick and bouncy, the very epitome of the classical No 9. What was more, he had a priceless asset: namely, an outstanding service that held up in all areas and all situations. With no visible back-lift, he sent the ball travelling with the speed and trajectory of a bullet, giving his backs plenty of room to manoeuvre. There was no soft-shoe, sideways shuffle before release; just a selfless discharging of a scrum-half's primary duty. And speaking as a No 9 from way back when, it was terrific to see. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=85 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=85 Despite being condescendingly referred to as "a minnow of club rugby" by a national broadcaster renowned for charging us all an extortionate licence fee, Fylde had good reason to be proud of themselves last weekend after winning a first league title in their 90-odd year history – and winning it, I might add, with two fixtures to spare, having scored well over 1,000 points during the campaign and registered more attacking bonuses than any team in any division in the land. More importantly, the players climbed this rung of the competitive ladder by showing what could be achieved, home and away in all weather conditions, by taking a positive, principles-based approach to the game. There was also cause for celebration on the night before last Saturday's match with Manchester in National League Two North when Malcolm Phillips, the ex-Fylde and England centre who also served a term as president of the Rugby Football Union, and his wife Margaret threw a party to mark their 50th wedding anniversary. The turnout was tremendous, with many true "superstars" of the sport – I refer to those who achieved magnificently in the days before the cult of celebrity kicked in – enjoying the hospitality. If one of the guests deserves special mention, it is not because he suffered the acute misfortune of coaching me for two years during my late teens. I speak of Bev Risman, one of the great men of rugby, and perhaps the greatest ever to cross the divide between the rival codes of union and league. An England outside-half of the highest class who toured New Zealand with the British and Irish Lions in 1959, he earned enormous acclaim for his contribution to a fine team performance in the first Test and virtually won the fourth (yes, fourth!) Test single-handed, scoring a spectacular solo try after recovering from a broken ankle suffered between the two matches. Coming from a famous league background (his father Gus was a legendary figure in the 13-man game), it was inevitable he would turn his attention to that sport at some point, especially as he was more suited to it in terms of style and mentality. He played for Leigh and Leeds, captained Great Britain at a World Cup tournament and, by all accounts, does a fantastic job as president of league's governing body. Proof indeed that it is not impossible to be a great player and a great person – a point worth pondering after some of the things we've read over the last few weeks. On a more contemporary note, I thoroughly enjoyed the Gloucester-Northampton game on Tuesday, which I attended courtesy of ESPN, who invited me into the studio to comment on proceedings. Kingsholm is one of my favourite sporting venues and I always relish an opportunity to visit. The old place looks disconcertingly modern these days, but it has lost none of its atmosphere. A noisy full house crammed in under the floodlights, with the Gloucester supporters at their most wittily inventive and passionate ... all this may be a pain in the arse for a visiting coach, but no one with a sporting soul could fail to revel in it. Both clubs are jockeying for places in the end-of-season play-offs and had played in games that were physically and emotionally draining 72 hours or so previously, yet even in this attrition-driven professional era, they were blithely expected to put on a show. To their great credit, they managed to do so, producing a game full of twists and turns. Gloucester played some fast, adventurous rugby while Northampton, forced by the dictates of the Elite Player Squad agreement to start with an unfamiliar line-up, began with great confidence – a confidence possibly born of fear at what might happen against opponents who had themselves fielded an understrength side at Leicester, only to emerge with a draw in an 82-point thriller. Whatever the psychological undercurrents, there was plenty to hold the attention. Despite all the positivity, however, both coaches will be privately cursing their teams' failures to leave Kingsholm with a bonus point – a winning one in Gloucester's case, a losing one in Northampton's. One of the key factors in this regard was an outbreak of the rugby disease known as "white-line fever" – something that can afflict even the most talented and experienced players when they cross into the opposition 22 with the ball in their hands and the scent of glory in their nostrils. It tends to manifest itself in a series of one-out passes, accompanied by head-down, eyes-shut, battering-ram charges towards the goal-line. The vital attacking principles of recognising and using space, of believing in the process, and of understanding that the score will take care of itself if the basic skills are performed correctly and a little patience is shown, seem to go out of the window the moment the fever strikes. Communication breaks down and rugby sense disappears. The idea of the collective, of teamwork and mutual support, is totally disregarded, with the side metamorphosing into a group of individuals. All clubs spend a good many hours practising defence in their own 22. Do they spend as much time working out how best to attack successfully when they play their way into the opposition 22? I think I know the answer to that one, and I'd stake a fair amount of money on it. Healey's hot tip means that Burns is definitely one to watch In my ESPN role, I had the pleasure of reacquainting myself with a couple of players from my time coaching England: Ben Kay, the Leicester lock who appeared in consecutive World Cup finals, and Austin Healey. Given the response Austin attracted from the supporters in the Kingsholm Shed, he is quite clearly a popular man in the West Country! Austin was a unique figure in the England context, playing in every back-line position, often with great distinction. In fact, I would go so far as to say that of all the players I coached, he had the most positive mindset and the greatest understanding of attacking possibilities, with the added virtue of being able to translate ideas into reality. It was therefore interesting to hear him making complimentary remarks about the Gloucester back Freddie Burns, in whom, I suspect, he saw something of himself. Judging by the way the youngster backed his skills against Northampton, it's clear that the Gloucester coach, Bryan Redpath, is encouraging him to explore every facet of his rugby nature, even the most creative and mischievous ones. That being the case, I can only say: Go for it, Freddie. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=84 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=84 Poor old Serge Blanco. What could the great man of Biarritz have been thinking as he watched the Basque side's Heineken Cup quarter-final defeat by Toulouse on Sunday evening? Here was a remarkable individual who performed, almost on a weekly basis, astonishing feats for club and country: a rugby genius blessed with imagination, invention, pace, skill and courage – a master of the counter-attack who would back himself to make something happen when everyone else on the field was paralysed with fear. Quite simply, Blanco was one of the finest full-backs ever to play the game. Has any of his stardust been sprinkled on the Biarritz of today? Apparently not. Quite what he made of his team's approach down there in San Sebastian, heaven only knows. It amounted to nothing more than a collision-based driving game, based around an unending series of pick-and-go rumbles around the side by forwards who, quite literally, kept the ball close to their chests. Behind these behemoths, Dimitri Yachvili steered the close-quarter strategy from scrum-half, hoofing the ball in the air or down the short side in primitive kick-and-chase fashion. As for his mate at No 10, Julien Peyrelongue... well, he was even less ambitious. There was a moment towards the end of a tense, fiercely fought encounter, when, from an attacking scrum in the Toulouse 22, he simply smashed into the tackle of his opposite number, David Skrela, with all the wit and elegance of a front-row forward who, unable to see the point of passing, had never bothered to learn. Meanwhile, twiddling their thumbs in the furthest-flung areas of the field, were three natural finishers: one from England (Iain Balshaw), one from Fiji (Ilikena Bolakoro), and one from the United States (Taku Ngwenya). Denied even a fleeting glimpse of the ball in space, they were reduced to dealing with the Toulouse kicking game – putting it politely, the results were varied – and being squeezed into blind alleys from which there was no escape. How they must have enjoyed their afternoon! Yes, Biarritz found a way of taking the reigning champions into extra time. If it wasn't a very interesting way, it did the job. But they were found out in the end when they conceded a charge-down try, and in my view, this was entirely just. Unless I'm mistaken, their tactics were geared towards the avoidance of defeat, in the hope that Toulouse would commit sufficient errors under pressure to make a narrow victory possible – a negative mindset that has cost them dear on big occasions in the past. As contrasts go, the one between this Biarritz performance and the glorious deeds of Blanco was particularly sad, made all the more miserable by the fact that the maestro of old was sitting there in the stand, watching the dream of European success disappear once again. Will this defeat be a catalyst for change? I'd like to think so, but I'm not holding my breath. The kind of narrow-mindedness we saw at the weekend seems to be in the Basques' DNA, presumably to Blanco's bemusement. If I was slightly bemused myself after the quarter-final weekend, it was because I read a comment attributed to a Leicester player stating that his team would learn from, and be stronger for, the defeat by Leinster in Dublin. I'm pretty sure I heard something similar from another of the Tigers' big names in the aftermath of another painful defeat in the Irish capital – this one suffered by England as the Six Nations Championship reached its denouement. Such words do not sit easily with Leicester's image as a tough, resourceful, self-sufficient club who have, over the years, trusted in their own capacity to shape a game to their liking and, more often than not, come out on the right side of the scoreline. If memory serves, they have never been in the business of being taught rugby lessons and then going away to absorb them. Quite the opposite. More often than not, they have done the teaching and left their opponents to do the pondering. Having watched the game at the new Lansdowne Road, the phrase "adaptability in the heat of battle" sprang readily to mind. Leinster's game appeared to have more in the way of cerebral input, and while much was made afterwards of the set-piece and tackle-area contests – massive contributory factors, admittedly – I felt Leinster's dynamism in using their footwork, making the extra pass and running at space gave them an important advantage. At this level of the club game, physicality is crucial. But when the teams cancel each other out in this respect, a little intelligence tends to swing the argument. It seems to me that with the semi-final pairings as they are, we are guaranteed some light and shade in the final. The clash of bodies in the Northampton-Perpignan tie in Milton Keynes will be heard loud and clear back at Franklin's Gardens, the true home of the Saints. The Leinster-Toulouse game will also make us wince as the players set about their work, but I suspect there will be something different, something more intriguing and mind-stretching about it: a little Irish craic on the one hand, a little French je ne sais quoi on the other. League players make counterparts look slow on the uptake Just the other day, I was enjoying a quiet pint in my local (runner-up in the Real Ale Pub of the Year rankings, no less!) when I found myself being confronted and challenged over my comments in last week's column about the superiority of running and handling skills in rugby league. After casting an eye over the latest events in the rival codes – Super 15 and Heineken Cup in union; Super League in the 13-a-side game – I was delighted to be vindicated. As a result, I stand firmly by what I said. Let me give you one technical example: league players take the ball early as often as possible, and this helps them create time. They also hit the ball on running lines that enable them to open up space, attack defenders' weak shoulders or fix opponents with a finely calculated angle. For many union players, a straightening of the running line comes as an afterthought rather than a prerequisite. I know which is the more effective way of doing things, and it isn't the latter. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=83 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=83 There are a fair few front-line coaches from across the sporting spectrum living up here in the North-west, including the Blackpool football manager, Ian Holloway, who works half a dozen miles up the coast from my home in Lytham St Annes. I don't know Ian personally, but there is something both appealing and entertaining about his extrovert approach to life, and I have great admiration for the things he has achieved in the face of disadvantage and adversity. It was Ian who gave me food for thought this week. His account of a recent trip to Spain, where he watched the world champions prepare for an international match, struck a chord with me – especially his description of a training environment that placed great emphasis on what we might call "enjoyable learning". It seems the Spaniards based their build-up on an 11 v 11, game-condition approach that puts a high value on problem solving with and without the ball, both in terms of the overview of the forthcoming contest and the specific issues that might arise during it. I see a connection here with club rugby as the Heineken Cup enters its knockout stage. One would expect all eight quarter-finalists to enter the arena with an overview – in other words, a clear idea of how they might dominate field position and impose their will on the opposition. But there is an ever-present danger when fixtures as important as these come around. All too frequently, coaches and players clutter up the overview with so much detail that the performance becomes robotic. Instead of people manoeuvring their way through situations as and when they arise, they fall back on the so-called "game plan" memorised during the week's preparation. Do the wonderful footballers of Spain allow themselves to be locked into a pre-ordained plan? I think not. This evening's big game in Dublin between Leinster and Leicester will be extremely instructive in this regard, for it throws up a classic confrontation between two half-back pairings – Eoin Reddan and Jonathan Sexton; Ben Youngs and Toby Flood – who, at their best, understand the importance of clear thinking and sound decision-making under pressure. They met at the same venue as recently as last month, when England crossed the Irish Sea in what turned out to be a fruitless search for the Six Nations Grand Slam, but it would be a gross error of judgement to assume that these four individuals will perform in precisely the same way. Certainly, neither coach will fall into this trap. This is a different time – a different game, played in a different tournament and a different environment. One of the reasons the Heineken Cup sometimes produces better rugby than the Six Nations is familiarity. The close relationship developed by clubmates over the course of long domestic and European campaigns is a key ingredient in the unique flavour of a match such as this one. As ever, much will depend on the speed and quality of ball provided by the two packs of forwards: to a large extent, it is this that determines the degree of time and space in which the half-backs can drive their teams upfield and weave a spell or two when the moment is right. However, if they can perform to the optimum only when circumstances are at their most favourable, they will find themselves enduring a long afternoon, shot through with difficulty. This is where the importance of the Spanish football-style "game environment" training comes in. I have raised in previous columns the importance of No 10s, in particular, preparing for matches in match-like conditions, where the pressure of operating in uncomfortable, unexpected and unwanted surroundings is accurately replicated. Coaches should create as many "what if?" scenarios as they can if they want their outside-halves to make the right decisions when the intricately planned, hoped for situations fail to materialise for a large percentage of the contest. Ideally, the No 9s should prepare in the same way, for when you reach a Heineken Cup knockout match, you can be sure that individually and collectively, your half-backs will find themselves travelling some very bumpy roads. Both Leinster and Leicester will have "done their homework", as the jargon has it, and will have devised an approach that should, if everything goes to plan, allow them to dictate how the game unfolds. But as things rarely, if ever, go completely to plan, the decision-making at half-back tends to be a principal determining factor. Will the international-class players on show today have the right mindset? Will they have total confidence in their skills and find ways of executing them in the battle zone – in the no man's land that separates the combatants? Or will they retreat, physically and mentally, to the trenches and respond to opposition aggression from a safe, ineffective distance? Whatever happens in the other three quarter-finals, all of which have their fascinations, the game in the Irish capital has the makings of a memorable event – one in which the fortunes of four men meeting for the second time in the space of three weeks will be critical. Warrington taught to hunt as pack but think like lone Wolves On Wednesday morning, I spent a fascinating few hours with the former Great Britain and current Warrington Wolves rugby league coach Tony Smith, chewing the fat and comparing notes. I come from a 13-a-side background and, as I have never faltered in my regard for the high speed, the accuracy and the superior core skills at the heart of the league code, I was happy to have the opportunity to pick Tony's brains. All open-minded union coaches and players could, and should, learn a great deal from the way things are done in league; indeed, all coaches, from whatever neck of the sporting woods, should make it their business to expose themselves to new ideas from other specialists. Not so very long ago, league and union viewed each other with the greatest suspicion, yet there was no hint of this at Warrington. Tony opened the door wide for me, and I took the greatest pleasure in stepping into his environment, which I found to be challenging, inclusive, intelligently geared towards high achievement and – interestingly, in light of my comments about the Spanish footballers – wholly based around on-field decision-making. It was a day well spent, in outstanding company. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=82 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=82 Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Where do the die-hard critics of Super 15 rugby go now, following the fast-flowing splendour of the Crusaders-Sharks game at Twickenham last Sunday? I spent some time at the annual National Schools Sevens tournament this week and bumped into no end of people – from Joe Public on the one hand to international coaches and players on the other – who had been blown away by the standard of play produced by Dan Carter, Sonny Bill Williams and the rest of the southern hemisphere cast. The question posed by those still to be convinced by the kind of spectacle produced by the New Zealand and South African franchises is a basic one: is it real rugby? There is no doubt that Super 15 has an element of "entertainment" built into it, but whether this is necessarily a bad thing is open to debate. You might argue that in the professional age, when people pay good money to watch live sport, "entertainment" should be obligatory. But leaving such philosophical discussions to one side, we can surely base a judgement on whether Super 15 is in any way artificial on the evidence of our own eyes, and I have to say that the heavy-duty scrummaging of the Crusaders tight forwards and the ferocity of the counter-rucking by both sides as they went in search of turnover ball looked pretty real to me. What we saw was a classic example of strong foundations – sound technique, top-rate physical conditioning, formidable skill levels and a wholly admirable work rate both on and off the ball – underpinning high achievement, and it gave the two teams, particularly the Crusaders in that superb first-half display, the platform from which to launch a brand of union we rarely see in these islands from teams below Test level. So many rugby clichιs, trotted out by coaches and players alike, were thrown clean out of the window, and I can't help thinking that the rugby was the better for it. There was a striking willingness to keep the ball on the field (was it my imagination or were there very few line-outs?) and a desire to attack and counter-attack from anywhere and everywhere. There were errors on both sides, and neither coach would have left London 100 per cent content. But the fast-moving, multifaceted, challenging nature of the contest surely gave those operating at the elite end of the northern hemisphere game much food for thought. What were the vital elements which allowed the match to explode in the way it did? By combining fitness and work rate with an attacking mindset that produces a wholly positive pattern of behaviour, and adding in a skill-set that cements together the physical and mental sides of the game, the grandest ideas can become reality. At the weekend, this reality was presented to us – especially during that first 40 minutes, when the Crusaders took the breath away. I was struck by the mastery of the New Zealanders, forwards and backs alike, in attracting and holding the interest of defenders. Not once did the Crusaders' decision-makers buy time and space for themselves by playing deep. Indeed, the likes of Carter and Williams were incredibly confrontational in operating in the faces of their opponents. For them, nimble footwork, an acute understanding of how and when to give or delay a pass or an offload, and an awareness of space were the means of creating opportunities for their colleagues. Repeatedly, the Sharks found themselves a long way from their comfort zone as the Crusaders' running lines opened up holes on the inside, in the very heart of the South Africans' defence, or created inviting gaps in the outside channels. The close proximity of the attacking players to one another made high-speed execution possible and forced the tacklers to make last-second adjustments. In effect, they were pressed into taking decisions they would rather not have made. As the game continued after the interval, fatigue was inevitable. This explains why the contest became increasingly unstructured and was seemingly chaotic at times. Yet there was still an air of patience about the key figures, who showed great faith and belief in the rugby they were trying to play. Even at the end, with exhaustion taking its toll, the support running was exceptional – both from those in the busiest areas of the field and from those on the periphery of the action. What impressed me most in the last 20 minutes was players' willingness to abandon the hoary old principle of "go-forward" in a determined attempt to seek out space wherever it might be. At times, they went sideways and even backwards, yet still had the capacity to produce ball from the tackle quickly and cleanly. Always, the priority was to maintain a sense of order in attack as a means of exploiting any looseness in the opposition defence. There was so much for the connoisseur to enjoy during those 80 minutes at Twickenham – 80 minutes that, to my mind, set a benchmark for the game as it heads towards another World Cup. Coaches at all levels of the sport in this neck of the woods should be pondering the lessons as we speak. Sonny Bill has it all, but All Blacks can still afford not to start him Sonny Bill Williams, the latest All Black phenomenon, was at the very heart of things last weekend. He is a unique character in world rugby: his seamless transition from international-standard league to Test-level union – a transition made within a calendar year – combined with his capacity to use his fists to good effect in entirely legitimate sporting fashion (he is, it seems, a useful boxer) forces us to look upon him as a special case. His understanding of the offload – the how, when and why of this extremely demanding skill – appears to be second nature, and is rightly being celebrated by coaches, fellow players and spectators alike. Yet he is also top-drawer when it comes to the more traditional passing game, and when you add his ability to wrong-foot defenders – he is unusually nimble for a big man – and a penchant for making the big-hit tackle at the right time, the word "special" springs to mind. And now, it seems, Williams is busily mastering the art of the short kicking game – something he used to great effect in the last half-hour of the match at Twickenham. Already, he looks capable of adding a fresh dimension to the role of inside centre, yet he is not guaranteed a place in the New Zealand team. Which is rather scary when you think about it. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=81 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=81 England's success in laying hands on the Six Nations trophy for the first time in eight years should not be underestimated – titles at international level are never easy to come by – but, given the nature of their defeat in Dublin last weekend, it was fairly predictable that the number of bouquets strewn at the feet of Martin Johnson and his team would be more than matched by the volume of brickbats thrown at their heads. That's the way of it in professional sport. I have to say that the problems England encountered against the Irish were also predictable: certainly, the potential for a green-shirted uprising of considerable magnitude was evident throughout the build-up to the game. It therefore became a question of people dealing not with the unexpected but of them dealing with the expected. This is what England failed to do at the new Lansdowne Road, just as we failed at Croke Park when I was in charge back in 2007. Why? It's an interesting question. I've explored the topic of coping with the unforeseen in previous columns. The well-known mantra of the Special Boat Service – "No plan survives the first contact with the enemy" – feeds into this, as does the Royal Marines' approach of training personnel to deal with dislocated expectations by developing the "counterpressure with pressure" mindset. All of these approaches and philosophies are entirely positive, based as they are on the foundations of sound technique and a strong work ethic. If people are not to weaken and wilt when events unfold in a surprising way, they need a default position that reinforces their sense of collective will and organisation. But what happens when something easily foreseen happens with such force that it threatens to overwhelm? Last Saturday, I watched this happen twice: first when Fylde travelled to Preston Grasshoppers for a league match, then at a rather higher level across the Irish Sea. Fylde knew they would have to deal with a big, physical Preston side of limited ambition, a team determined to slow things down and suck the life from the game, yet they struggled for long periods to find a response and were relieved to emerge victorious. England were also forewarned and forearmed: indeed, the Scots had given them a mini-preview of what was coming six days previously with their merciless and disruptive assault at the tackle area, and we all knew the Irish would have the same end in mind and would be even less forgiving, given that they would be calling on better, more experienced players. Unfortunately, England did not find a method of coping. When firm expectation becomes uncomfortable reality the default position I mentioned earlier can be of great help in stabilising a situation that threatens to career out of control. But to rise above circumstances driven by the opposition and establish some kind of counter-dominance requires a high degree of mental strength centred on three principles: the ability to establish order from chaos; the ability to engage in paradigm-shift thinking; and the ability to deliver something completely different. Players who successfully embrace these elements are rarely stopped in their tracks by events unfolding in front of, and around, them. Once again, I return to the great heavyweight title fight between Muhammad Ali and George Foreman in 1975, for this was a classic example of a sportsman who understood well in advance the nature of the challenge he faced, found the reality of that challenge to be every bit as formidable as he had anticipated, yet identified and ventured along a new and unexplored pathway with such skill and commitment that he was able to undermine a bigger, stronger opponent, both physically and mentally. Foreman expected to win that night, went after the victory in an entirely predictable way, and disappeared into a fog of confusion. There are parallels in other sports, notably cricket. Some years ago I found myself in the company of John Buchanan, the coach of the Australian Test team, and was fascinated by the story of how he introduced himself to the side by challenging them to score at a previously unheard of 4.5 runs per over and change the nature of the game in the process. Kevin Pietersen brought about a change by introducing his dastardly take on the "reverse-sweep" shot. Muttiah Muralitharan upset the apple cart with his "doosra" delivery – hardly the product of prescriptive thinking. In each case, the paradigm-shift approach enabled these people to confront, and defeat, the expected. In both life and sport, the majority accept the norms of behaviour. It is the minority, armed with the courage to fail, who take a look over the horizon and react positively to the things they find there. Comfort zones are easy places in moments of crisis, but the ones who ultimately gain the upper hand are those who relish the hostile environment and take the uncompromising, painful road to victory. As Ali, my great hero, said: "He who does not dare to take risks achieves nothing in life." Masi's award reflects credit on sustained team effort by Azzurri If there is anywhere in the world I regard as my second home, it is Italy. I played rugby there in the late 1970s, began my coaching career there at the same time and have made regular visits to the country ever since. You can imagine my delight, then, at seeing a member of the Azzurri, the full-back Andrea Masi, walk away with the Six Nations Player of the Championship award. I have to say that my own vote would have gone to the captain, Sergio Parisse, whose performances at No 8 underlined his status as one of the world's finest back-row forwards. It is not a major quibble, however. The fact that an Italian player received the championship gong after a campaign in which the team as a whole adopted a more enterprising approach, and might easily have ended up with three wins as a result, is satisfying enough in itself. It has been a long, tough path for them and their journey is not yet over. Progress is there for all to see, however, and I congratulate them. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=80 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=80 Il momento della verita! Well, why shouldn't we dip into the Italian language, in celebration of their ground-breaking victory over France in Rome last weekend? Besides, the moment of truth is certainly upon England as we arrive at the end of this year's Six Nations journey. The opportunity to win a first title in eight years – and a title of the Grand Slam variety at that – does not present itself too frequently, and while Welsh chances of stealing the prize are still intact as we speak, most eyes will be firmly fixed on events in Dublin. The Aviva Stadium, as we must now refer to Lansdowne Road, will take a good many years to match the deep sense of history and overwhelming air of sporting passion we associate with Croke Park, the temporary home of Irish rugby in recent years, but the home players need to lay some foundations there, and this evening's game is as good a place as any to start. Looking at it from a purely objective viewpoint, they have nothing to lose. Out of the running for a Triple Crown and off the pace in championship terms, they are in the uncomplicated position of being able to throw everything at England, just for the hell of it. Martin Johnson's team can expect a tempestuous challenge. Yet if Ireland are still aggrieved at the mind-boggling ineptitude of the officials in awarding Mike Phillips that try in the second half of last week's game in Cardiff, they will go into this game with entirely the wrong mindset. The Millennium Stadium affair is now firmly in the past, and there is no earthly point in players allowing the injustice to eat away at their spirit. Whatever the great Brian O'Driscoll may have said on the subject since, one fact is staring the Irish in the face: they will have to up their performance significantly if they are to compete strongly against England tonight. They must retain their aggression, but must also show more clarity around the tackle area while cutting down on their core-skill errors. By the impressive standards of recent years, their handling and kicking has been shoddy. In my view, the key battle will be fought among the tight forwards, and the men in green will have to work hard to establish the parity that will allow their impressive back row to play on the front foot, both with and without the ball, and the midfield – a misfiring but potent unit – to maximise the wide threat posed by Keith Earls, Tommy Bowe and Andrew Trimble. That parity will take some achieving; indeed, the much-vaunted Irish lock pairing of Donncha O'Callaghan and Paul O'Connell will have to rejuvenate themselves if they are to do the necessary. The young English front row is maturing by the week – I have been particularly impressed by Dylan Hartley and his confident way of dealing with verbal attacks from two opposing coaches – while Louis Deacon is playing the best Test rugby of his life. As for Tom Palmer, his stint in Paris with Stade Franηais has been transformative. As we know, other players may be denied the chance to broaden their horizons in this way post-World Cup. I have voiced my concern on this issue more than once. Suffice to say, I have not changed my mind on the subject. England have earned the right to enjoy this occasion. Having won their "semi-final" against Scotland – just – their approach should be wholly positive. The results-obsessed rugby public, not to mention the media, may think otherwise, but by reaching a place not visited by an England side for some considerable time they have already achieved something of significance. Of course, expectation is high, but as Martin Johnson has consistently argued, this is the case whenever a team from this country challenges for a big prize in any sport. I believe the pressure will be in the eyes of the beholders, not the players. Those with the chance to go out there and complete the job must concentrate first and foremost on the process formulated and developed over the last nine months. Technically, physically and mentally, they must be on their mettle and they must also ensure they are smarter than they were against the Scots. The approach at the tackle area is one thing that will need re-addressing, especially in terms of the numbers engaged there. This can never be set in stone; rather, it depends wholly on how people are planning to manage the next phase of play. But the first principle is to win the ball, and there were times during the Calcutta Cup match when England got this wrong. I cannot see Ireland standing back and letting England play, so the ability to cope with a pressuring defence will be vital. For years now, O'Driscoll and Gordon D'Arcy have been outstanding at cutting down space in midfield and pilfering the ball, and O'Driscoll, in particular, loves to lead the defensive line umbrella-fashion from the No 13 channel. There is an answer to this, though, as Fourie du Preez and Bryan Habana, those two high-class Springboks, showed us during the 2009 Lions tour. The optimum approach for England revolves around what I call the rugby of simplicity. Against an in-your-face kind of team, they should bring their driving and mauling to the party and resist the temptation to offload at the wrong time. The offload is a powerful weapon, but attempting it off the back foot does no one any favours. Also, in the absence of a kicking game at centre, I'd like Ben Youngs to use his talents in this area from scrum-half. By kicking from phase play, exploiting space in centre field and on the wide short-side, he would provide a foil for Toby Flood in the 10 position and find ways of confronting an expectant Irish defence with the unexpected. If they can do all this, I take England to shade it. Whatever Wales do, I'll always treasure the lost art of Williams Neutral observers will be paying close attention to this evening's developments in Paris, not least because the remarkable public observations about the French players made by their head coach, Marc Liθvremont, in the immediate aftermath of defeat in Rome were not obviously designed to create a happy atmosphere in the dressing room. Of course, it would be typical of Les Bleus to summon their most flamboyant rugby from the dark depths of despair. There again, Wales are suddenly winning the close games they were losing not so long ago. I won't predict a winner, but I will say this: I am bitterly disappointed that Shane Williams, that most captivating of wings, is injured, and will be absent from his own Six Nations farewell. In a game increasingly dominated by the products of the sports scientists, he has consistently reminded us that it is the rugby artist who raises our sport to its heights. His breed may be heading for extermination, more's the pity, but I for one shall treasure the memory of him. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=79 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=79 One of the joys of being self-employed is having the freedom to sample life's rich variety. My only set routine these days is a two-hour morning walk with the dog, always along the beach near my home in Lytham St Annes – a place with its own sense of time and space, and the perfect location to think and reflect. Once I leave this world of dreams, it is back to the unpredictable world of work, in all its many shapes and forms. Stimulating projects have been coming thick and fast just recently. A couple of weeks back I returned to Stonyhurst College, where I once taught, to deliver a lecture on the relationship between international sport and politics. This was something of a departure, and my research gave me a fascinating insight into how, even in the age of the ancient Olympics all those centuries ago, political considerations had a significant effect on the games people played. That influence has only grown stronger down the years, to the extent that it is now a fundamental part of sport, be it amateur or professional. On the subject of what you might call outside influences on sport, I have also spent time recently discussing the roles of conditioning coaches and sports psychologists. I have written before about the model that drives performance at the highest level – the technical, tactical, physical, mental and lifestyle skills that play an essential part in the make-up of a complete athlete – and argued that failure to pay full attention to any one of these elements will almost certainly undermine an individual's ability to realise his or her potential. So I was intrigued to listen to specialist conditioners from the English Institute of Sport as they put forward their ideas and philosophies. Each was involved with sport at international/Olympic level, from swimming through bob-skeleton to netball, and we found ourselves dissecting how a coach makes a difference, for better or worse, at the high-performance end of the spectrum. The phrase "functional training" was at the forefront of the debate, and if that sounds a bit of a mouthful, it refers to an integrated approach to athlete development that is more beneficial than treating each skill area as a separate entity and coaching it in isolation. It seems to me that out of this springs a clear message for conditioning coaches working in rugby. Not so long ago Simon Shaw, one of the most skilful and intelligent locks of his generation as well as one of the biggest, said there was a real danger of future Premiership players – and, by logical extension, future England players – becoming mere "gym monkeys" and losing some of their rugby instincts as a consequence. I have no doubt that this is the case. How can it be otherwise when conditioning sessions are conducted in an environment wholly alien to that in which contests take place? Some of the physical attributes developed in a gym are not necessarily transferable, or even relevant, to performance on the rugby field. The urgent message, therefore, is that conditioning work must be carefully linked to the demands of the game. A base level of conditioning underpins all that a player does, but if the scientific dimension is not in tune with the artistic one, it is difficult to produce people who can handle rugby in its totality – a totality that involves dynamism and flexibility as well as the ability to survive and thrive in collision areas. As Muhammad Ali famously said, champions are not made in the gym, but in the mind. This leads me to a third illuminating experience, a meeting with those who probably wield the most influence over young English rugby talent: the Premiership academy managers. My role involved running practical sessions designed to illustrate some of the points made by Matt Thoombs, the England Under-21 sports psychology coach. Those involved agreed on a number of things: that the mental side of the game takes on greater importance as the standard of rugby advances; that these skills are the least understood, addressed and practised at academy level; and that this has to be corrected if we are to develop players able to remain focused under extreme pressure, retain discipline in the face of provocation, stay energised, make sound decisions and show leadership in difficult situations. By not taking this aspect of rugby more seriously, they acknowledged, the game in this country is missing a very large trick. I can only hope words become action, because we will be doing our best young players a disservice if they do not. There is an assumption, all too common in England, that because a player is physically tough, he must be mentally strong too. This is a non-sequitur of the most damaging kind. It is possible to watch, in any televised game on a Saturday, "tough" professionals display rank indiscipline, make incorrect decisions and show complete failures of leadership during the dark moments that arise in any competitive contest. We have some distance to go in developing players able to respond positively to all the puzzles and demands rugby throws up. England should win, but Robinson's team owe him a favour Those most accomplished in meeting the demands described above, in theory at least, will be on parade once again this weekend as the Six Nations returns after a short break. England are in the driving seat – rightly so, after winning three consecutive championship matches for the first time since the Grand Slam year of 2003 – and they will be looking to impose an icy grip on the tournament in tomorrow's Calcutta Cup game. Yet Scotland will travel in a spirit of hope mixed with desperation, a dangerous combination if everything ignites. Their coach, Andy Robinson, seems to be relishing the prospect of a return to Twickenham – I can't imagine why – and I'd be surprised if there isn't a "do this just for me" element to his team talk. When you balance Andy's pre-Six Nations record, which was excellent, against the poor response of the team over the last couple of matches, his players really do owe him one. Big time. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=78 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=78 It was what you might call a rugby-fest weekend. I watched from the touchline as Fylde beat Manchester 92-6 in a National Division Two game – 14 tries, every last one of them scored by a back – before casting an eye over three Six Nations matches and a Premiership contest on the talking box in the corner. There was also television coverage of a top-end rugby league game: the World Club Championship between Wigan and St George Illawarra, and I have to say that union coaches could do worse than study the way the Australian league players have mastered the core skills of running, with or without the ball, and handling. These skills are common to both codes, but in some respects the league game was a league apart. There was no aimlessness, no drifting around; no one spun out counter-productive mispasses that removed the sting and threat from an attack. We see so much of this in union these days, but the elite Australian league players have no truck with it. Instead, they generate tremendous pace, run outstanding angles from depth, change the momentum and focus of attack with wit and imagination, and handle the ball with unerring accuracy. This is what we call operating at the "apex of the high-level performance pyramid": maximum speed, no compromises in technique. In layman's terms, it means people playing flat out with no mistakes. If I'm being frank, none of the union games I watched at the weekend came close to this ideal. In addition, I was struck by the rich variety of kick-to-score ideas and techniques that now seem to be in vogue among league players. To my mind, these are the products of a wholly different coaching mindset to the one with which we've become familiar in union. One short aerial-jab-kick on the run was nothing less than a masterpiece of vision and precision. As it was impossible to defend, it inevitably resulted in a try. On the union front, there were things to admire about the England victory over France, although I'm sure Martin Johnson has already tucked it away in the drawer marked "history". What is becoming clear is that the teams who display the most intelligence in handling transition rugby – that is to say, who make the most productive use of turnover ball – are the ones who spend the most time on the front foot and, far more often than not, go on to win. Not too long back, there was a thorough statistical analysis of the sources of attacking possession. Set pieces accounted for anything between 25 and 35 per cent of a team's ball, while turnovers were in the 65-75 per cent range. That is a big gap in anyone's language, yet many teams base their game preparation on plays from scrums and line-outs. Can this be sensible? You do the maths, and make up your own minds. This point was reinforced in the Scotland-Ireland game at Murrayfield. Ireland were clearly the better side, but not for the first time in recent matches, some abject indiscipline went a long way towards maintaining their opponents' interest in proceedings. It is, however, one thing being in the game on the scoreboard, and quite another knowing how to handle it on the field. Given the importance of victory at Test level and the current law interpretations that favour teams who are purposeful and accurate with the ball, I was surprised – to put it very mildly indeed – to see people kicking it away with abandon. It was as if the majority of those on the field were more comfortable dealing with pressure without being burdened with the additional responsibility of possession. The Scots, three points behind with eight or nine minutes left on the clock, were particularly guilty, and this might have something to do with their current difficulties. Turnover ball of any description – from scrum or line-out, from the tackle area, from a knock-on advantage, from free-kicks and penalties, from ill-directed opposition kicks – is the rugby equivalent of a gift from the gods. Free and unexpected possession, in a broken-field situation with all its attendant chaos? What more could a team ask? If players understand their roles and responsibilities when it comes to creating order from this chaos, the attacking opportunities are limitless. Yet still we see people being coached to create order from order, which is what the set-piece obsession amounts to. How does this address the reality of the game? It doesn't. Many moons ago, on the mainland of Europe, I first heard the phrase "relieve pressure by creating it where least expected". The ability to do this is at the heart of most, if not all, top-level success in a dynamic team game like rugby. Kicking turnover ball away when your opponents are at their most vulnerable does not fit this mindset. In my day, a hat-trick meant it was your round at the bar Where have rugby union's traditional values gone? In the aforementioned Fylde game, three players – both wings and the scrum-half – scored four tries each. Being blessed with an eye for opportunity, I politely reminded one of the wings that according to age-old custom, a hat-trick of tries or more warranted the purchasing of a jug of ale. The wing replied, with a perfectly straight face, that he'd be delighted to accept one! When I pointed out that he was the one expected to put his hand in his pocket, he responded in typically bizarre fashion – they're an odd lot, wings, and always have been – by mumbling something about having to buy a jug of vodka because he didn't actually like beer. As for the other two scorers, they scarpered, double-quick. Me? I gave up and went home. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=77 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=77 England were looked after so well during the 2007 World Cup tournament, leaving aside a difficult few days spent at a Marseilles hotel situated in a Mediterranean version of Dog-Poo Alley, that we struck up a wonderfully positive relationship with our hosts, to the extent that the French security staff assigned to us were uncertain who they should support come our semi-final with Les Bleus. Who said the entente cordiale was dead? I've never been much interested in the banter that routinely criss-crosses the Channel ahead of a serious game between the two nations, but when I cast my mind back to the events of four years ago I must confess that this week's comments by the French coach, Marc Liθvremont, seem a little odd. There again, the response in some quarters to his widely publicised thoughts on Anglo-French relations, or lack of them, has been so staggeringly predictable that it makes me wonder whether Liθvremont touched a nerve after all. Of far more interest to my way of thinking are the prospects of England continuing their useful run of form against France at Twickenham this afternoon. Leaving aside World Cup warm-up matches, which are necessarily distorted affairs and don't really count in my view, England have beaten the Tricolores in four of the last five meetings and might easily have secured victory in Paris last season had Chris Ashton, then a new face on the wing, shown a little try-scoring devil. What a strange comment that seems in light of events since. It is my sense that France will approach Twickenham with caution – quite the worst possible route for a French side to take. I also sense that in the minds of certain England players, caution has been banished to a faraway place; certainly, I expect them to play with real positivity from the outset. Can we expect to be treated to an attacking performance on the grand scale of 2001, when we won 48-19? That day, the roles traditionally associated with the two countries were reversed. The flair – the razzmatazz, if you want to call it that – came from England, to the extent that Austin Healey manufactured a startling try for Mike Catt with an overhead kick from the base of a ruck. Could this possibly be matched by my namesake and his mates today? Here's hoping. The Welsh are hoping, and praying, that their mini-revival in fortunes against Scotland in Edinburgh last time out will continue in Rome. I refuse to entertain the possibility that Italy will play as poorly in front of their home supporters at Stadio Flaminio today as they did in London a fortnight back – that they will be so lacking in desire, in passion, in self-belief. If they are, we can expect Emperor Dondi (Giancarlo Dondi, the president of the Italian union, for those not in the know) to give the national team a Colosseum-style thumbs down, the ramifications of which could be rather painful, albeit in a modern kind of way. As ever when the Italians are involved, the forward battle will be central to the outcome. If Wales can subdue the Azzurri pack and silence that Roman crowd, they will be three-quarters of the way to victory. This will be no easy matter, though, despite all the recent evidence to the contrary at Twickenham. If I know Italian rugby at all – and I've spent a fair bit of time in the country one way or another – they will be smarting badly from their humiliation at the hands of a rampant England, and I can't imagine they will leave their line-out strategy on the team bus for the second game running. Wales did not have to play terribly well to beat the Scots, but just occasionally during that game the men of the valleys reminded us of their ability with ball in hand if given a little leeway. Every so often, the blind-alley sideways stuff gave way to something far more interesting and exciting, and as the Welsh are at their best when they are at their most direct, their supporters will travel in anticipation of seeing the running lines and offloading that makes an on-song Red Dragons side such a joy to watch. Talk of events at Murrayfield leads us back to Edinburgh, where Scotland face a Six Nations D-Day tomorrow against a strangely erratic Ireland. If both teams continue to commit errors at the current rate – the technical mistakes have been coming thick and fast, as have instances of rank ill discipline – the neutral observer may find himself treated to a chaotic, points-laden bonanza. Andy Robinson, an incredibly passionate coach who sets very high standards, was not a happy man as the Wales debacle unfolded before his eyes, as his incredulous, not to say pugilistic, antics up in his glass eyrie indicated all too clearly. And he had just signed a four-year extension to his contract! Thanks, lads. He will be expecting rather more support from his players tomorrow, while Declan Kidney, his Irish opposite number, must be anticipating another energetic display from his forwards, who summoned some green-shirted "hooley" against France after a peculiarly conciliatory performance in Rome. That, however, will not count for too much if a back division who look highly capable on paper continue to complicate virtually every essentially simple move they undertake. Declan has publicly stated that he will not abandon his attacking approach, but he needs his players to show more accuracy and intelligence than we have seen from them so far. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=76 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=76 Once again, I am thrilled to see my name in the headlines – and for wholly positive reasons, too. Admittedly, the Christian name belongs to some other Ashton, of whom I shall say more later, but as those in the midst of the celebrity whirl never cease to point out, all publicity is good publicity, irrespective of the fine detail. England's victory over Italy also had its thrilling aspects: there has been a transformative air about the side for the last 10 months or so, and while Martin Johnson is absolutely right in saying that this is not the finished article and that nothing has yet been won, there can be no denying that some of the rugby played just recently has been very watchable. There was the sharpest of contrasts between events at Twickenham a week ago and those in Rome this time last year: a game I remember chiefly for the fact that my wife and I found ourselves surrounded by passionate Azzurri supporters while the blustery wind played havoc with the temporary seating high up in Stadio Flaminio. The 2010 match was a desperate affair, dominated by turgid set-piece play, mind-numbing "through the phases" stuff and a call-based "playbook" approach to the attacking game that prized territorial position above all else. Now the emphasis seems to have switched to speed of ball at the tackle area and keeping defences on the move. I have always maintained that if defenders hate anything, it is having to think, communicate and move simultaneously. Increasingly, the England players are finding ways of creating mismatches in space and exploiting those mismatches with more than one runner. The securing of possession is seen as an opportunity to be proactive, rather than as a means of cramping the style of the opposition. Where, when, why and how this change came about is, to my mind, wholly irrelevant. The important point to be made is that the environment in which the current players operate appears to be one of positivity and enjoyment – two things guaranteed to help bring out the best in people. Of course, this does not mean that attention to basics has been abandoned, or ever should be. It simply strikes me that the nuts and bolts aspect of the sport has been restored to its proper place, as the foundation on which the best of rugby can be constructed. The realisation that there is more to winning big games than merely doing things as rehearsed at the organisational level is a significant step forward. Martin does not strike me as the kind of manager who likes to look backwards, but I suspect he would relish the chance to replay the November Test against South Africa in light of the improvements delivered over the first two rounds of the Six Nations. This being World Cup year, the real battlegrounds – matches against the least forgiving, most accomplished opposition – are still to be reached, and England have yet to prove they can discover a way of playing and prospering in such challenging circumstances. This is a critical juncture, because it would be only too easy for those running the show to drop back into traditional coach-speak and talk about "winning the physicality" as the be all and end all. Believe me, there are many other factors to be considered and avenues to be explored. No one embodies the different approach we have seen of late more than the exuberant Chris Ashton. Brought up in the league hotbed of Wigan, he plays rugby union as he played the "other" game, with one clear purpose in mind: to score tries. He's making a pretty good job of it, clearly. Mark Cueto, his fellow wing, remarked at the weekend that Ashton can expect to be a heavily marked man from here on in, and that comment will be haunting the coaching teams of Wales of Italy, who could not find ways of marking him nearly closely enough. They missed a trick or two, certainly, but closing down someone like this is far from easy. Is it really a year since I highlighted, in this column, the threat Ashton posed? So much has happened since. Back then, I mentioned that knowing about him and dealing with him were two very different things. How do you track a player who combines such high degrees of instinct and intelligence when it comes to reading a defence: virtues that allow him to react late – dangerously late from the opposition point of view – to changes in a dynamic situation unfolding no more than five or 10 metres away from him? He is a master of attacking from depth in unusual areas of the field and at acute angles. He also has a very high work rate and a boundless desire to put his hands on the ball. For obvious reasons – I am an Englishman, after all – I have no intention of going into detail on how he might be stopped. Suffice to say that rival teams will have to find a means of attacking England in ways that remove Ashton as an option, or at least limit his opportunity for involvement. Not all teams will roll over and have their tummies tickled in the way Italy did, with their non-functioning line-out and the matador-like approach to tackling demonstrated by the outside-half Luciano Orquera. There are far tougher challenges ahead, both in this Six Nations and beyond. But I hope and trust that England will not abandon this journey upon which they've started. Tasty prospect of Super 15 critics having to eat their words Up here in the northern hemisphere, it has become almost de rigueur in some circles to denigrate the southern hemisphere Super 15 tournament, as it now becomes known with the addition of the Melbourne Rebels – to dismiss it as something less than "real rugby". The critics continue to insist there is too much emphasis on such worthless pursuits as scoring tries, with insufficient importance being given to defence, set-piece work and the element they put at the heart of the union game: the "collision". If memory serves, the teams from the south did OK when they came to Europe in November, and I for one will enjoy watching and learning from this year's tournament, which begins this weekend. Apart from anything else, there are a couple of interesting British recruits down there in Melbourne: Gareth Delve and someone by the name of Cipriani. I rather think they'll consider it "real rugby" by the time the first round is over. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=75 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=75 It was, I am delighted to say, the most interesting start to a Six Nations tournament for some considerable time, and if I derived a good deal of enjoyment from the action, it was not simply because my pre-match predictions turned out to be accurate – unusually so, by my standards. I expected England, France and Ireland to emerge with the victories, but things would have been very different had Italy not spilt a restart in the closing stages and allowed Ronan O'Gara to land another of his match-winning drop goals. Poor old Nick Mallett. The Azzurri coach had a face like thunder as he descended the Stadio Flaminio steps at the final whistle. Contrast that decisive error with the mental strength shown by England in Cardiff. England absorbed the all-consuming atmosphere of the big occasion for the first 10 minutes, then dealt with it impressively for the next 70. It was a significant step forward for players and management alike. I was particularly impressed with the performance of Dylan Hartley, who, metaphorically speaking, raised two fingers in the direction of the Wales coach, Warren Gatland – instigator of the pre-match fuss surrounding the England hooker and his temperament. Toby Flood caught the eye, too. He grew in stature as a game manager at the Millennium Stadium. If only he had someone of his own kind playing alongside him... Without taking anything away from their performance, Flood and company were undeniably helped by a dithering, meandering, peculiarly aimless attacking display from the Welsh, summed up by wholly ridiculous decisions to kick the ball away in promising positions around the England 22 while the visitors were down to 14 men. The failure of the Wales half-backs to bring direction and definition to the contest meant the potential of Jonathan Davies, Shane Williams and James Hook to threaten in the wider channels was largely unexplored. Wales will also be mortified at conceding the first try of the game to Chris Ashton in the way they did. How often has he pulled the same trick in the last four or five years? I'm struggling to work out how the Welsh failed to see it coming. If they defend as myopically against Scotland at Murrayfield today, they will find themselves in trouble. If England's was the best victory of the opening round, it was France who delivered the best attacking performance. I assume Andy Robinson is still mightily annoyed at the soft turnovers conceded by his Scotland team, but it was no small thing for them to score three good tries of their own. It was just that Les Bleus operated at a different level when the force was with them. In doing so, they highlighted the great virtues that underpin their way of introducing young players to, and developing their talent for, the sport of rugby union. Go down the traditional Anglo-Saxon instructional road – set out the cones, the tackle shields, the body suits; repeat the drill-based practice sessions ad nauseam – and you produce players who are strong technically but have little in the way of invention and still less understanding of the flow of the dynamic game. Approach things in the games-based, laissez-faire style favoured by the French and you end up with players with the capacity to adapt to, and exploit, the widest range of situations. Two elements of the French performance in Paris showed this. Firstly, they showed a precious ability to use turnover ball to immediate advantage. At one point, Scotland had a turnover of their own, but kicked to the French, who showed their gratitude by scoring a try. But how often do we see this in today's game? All too rarely. Receiving turnover possession in broken field, where the field of play is in chaos, should be the stuff of dreams, but not every one grasps the principles of attack as completely as the French. Secondly, they demonstrated a high level of understanding of how to create and attack space and keep the ball alive in a variety of channels while changing flow and tempo at will. This goes back to the way the French practise from a very young age, concentrating as they do on the subtlety of their running lines, the weight and length of their passing, the variations in their offloads, the appreciation of when to go tight on the drive, on how to "read" a defence. The glory of it is that their forwards do all this, as well as their backs. William Servat and Thomas Domingo showed against the Scots that they were proficient in the art (not the science!) of rugby. Not for them the easy option of going to ground as a first option, thereby playing into the hands of the opposition. They did something much more positive, more challenging and, ultimately, more exhilarating. Can the French repeat this in Dublin, against an Irish team who made more basic errors in Rome than they would generally expect to make over the course of a tournament? Who knows? It is the eternal question for Marc Liθvremont, their coach. Not to mention the eternal headache. Hartley and Foden set tone for England Briefly returning to the subject of England, it was good to see a couple of younger players taking the lead. I've already mentioned Hartley, but I can't overstate the importance of someone reacting so positively to public criticism. By concentrating on the task in hand, he set the tone for the team as a whole. In a different way, so did the full-back Ben Foden. By heaping expectation on himself in the build-up, he set the terms of engagement for everyone else. Hartley getting his line-out throwing right under pressure, Foden making his high catches... these were important individual efforts that contributed massively to the collective effort. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=74 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=74 Most of us could do without the barmy scheduling – what use is a Friday night kick-off to anyone, apart from the broadcasters? – but it's impossible not to be captivated by the start of another Six Nations jamboree, especially when the opening match sees Wales entertaining (for want of a better word) their old enemy England at the Millennium Stadium, which to my mind is the best venue in world rugby: intimidating, hostile, exciting and inspirational. The place is uniquely atmospheric, a great sporting theatre smack bang in the middle of a great sporting city. It produces the kind of environment that should give a real boost to Welsh ambitions, but home advantage has not been too helpful to the Red Dragons recently. They are in a trough of bad results and, while this game will unite the nation behind Warren Gatland's team, there must be many on that side of the bridge who fear another defeat and are already unnerved by their contemplation of the unthinkable. Despite Warren's usual pre-match mutterings, I wonder whether he's convinced that his players have the belief to do the necessary when the going gets tough. This fixture, of all fixtures, brings with it myriad distractions off and on the field. Will the more excitable Welshmen be diverted? It is not the only question confronting them tonight. Can they find a way of playing the unpredictable rugby that defined their celebrated teams of yesteryear, or will we be "treated" to more of the round-the-corner, lateral stuff that leaves us so dissatisfied? How will the reconstructed front row stack up? If Wales have problems compensating for the loss of Gethin Jenkins and Adam Jones, I can see England keeping the ball on the field and ensuring that scrums, not line-outs, are the main focus of the set-piece argument. Finally, will James Hook have any serious influence on proceedings now he has been taken out of the midfield, where so many important decisions are made, and repositioned at full-back? As England have also lost important forwards to injury, their mobility and athleticism have taken a knock, and it will be instructive to see how this changes the contest. I suspect that given the nature of their defeat by an exceptionally aggressive South Africa last time out, they are determined to be more physical in this game – not that I expect the Welsh pack to be as formidable as the second-string Springbok unit proved at Twickenham in November. England must now be looking not only to win the physical contest with Wales at close quarters, but to show increased maturity at half-back. There were times against the South Africans when key decision-makers seemed to be turning to the next page in the "playbook" in search of solutions, only to find the script offered no answers. The physicality tonight may not be as extreme, but the hostility generated by the crowd will create the circumstances in which Ben Youngs and Toby Flood must show they can operate with what I call appropriate positivity. Scotland, meanwhile, travel to Paris, where they will encounter a French side still reeling from the effects of their extraordinary implosion against the Wallabies a little over two months ago. Having appeared to have shrugged off the restrictive practices imposed on them under Bernard Laporte, what happened in the meeting with Australia left many people scratching their heads. Their teamsheet suggests they are capable of playing some sublime rugby, but it is by no means clear whether they will take on the Scots with all guns blazing, or with water pistols squirting. The Scots will go in with a big, hungry pack equipped for a face-to-face scrap and they'll be keen to extend their recent run of impressive results. They will need to combine their traditional helter-skelter approach with a strong element of control, continue to develop their forward game both at the set piece and away from it, and then hope their midfield trio can bring some intelligent creativity to the mix. As for the Irish, they go to Italy without a recognised international front row and have lost two of Europe's better loose forwards, Stephen Ferris and Jamie Heaslip, into the bargain. It is too early for the Azzurri to derive full value from the presence of two teams in the Magners League, but they are rarely pushovers in Rome, where Ireland have blown hot and cold. Three contrasting contests, each affected by injury and therefore difficult to call. If you press me, I'll go for England, France and Ireland. I could, however, be wrong on all three counts. Cardboard army proved no match for battle-ready England I vividly remember England's first visit to the Millennium Stadium, in 2001. I was part of the coaching team under Clive Woodward and we went to the venue on the eve of the game to inspect the facilities and have a brief run-out on the pitch. On our way to the dressing rooms, we came across a series of life-size cardboard cut-outs of the Welsh players placed at intervals along the corridor. Quite why they were there I have no idea, but if they were intended as intimidation, the plan backfired spectacularly. We used it as a motivating tool and while the noise at kick-off time was so loud that it was impossible to hear anyone standing more than 10 metres away, the towering cauldron of Welsh tribalism served to inspire what was a tough, battle-hardened England team. We ran in five tries, despite winning only 40 per cent possession. A portent for this evening, perhaps? http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=73 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=73 It's that time of year: as the Heineken Cup quarter-finalists congratulate themselves on a job at least partially well done, national coaches around the northern hemisphere are in the grip of Six Nations fever while club coaches in England, well aware that there is no rest for the wicked, are busily framing their short-term strategies, based around a mix of Premiership and Anglo-Welsh competition. Anglo-Welsh tournaments have had a chequered history for a variety of commercial and playing reasons, but the current incarnation – the LV= Cup – has its uses. It offers the carrot of elite European qualification, keeps the finances ticking over and, most importantly, gives our young players the chance of some meaningful activity. If we opened our minds just a little, we could do something really inventive in the Anglo-Welsh window. This thought occurred to me as I was casting my eye over the Rugby Football Union report entitled "Changing the future of rugby in England": an interesting document that has lots to say about management reorganisation at Twickenham, but next to nothing to say about how change might be instigated on the field. Am I mistaken in my belief that we should be addressing how the game is played, as well as how it is structured? The notion was reinforced when I watched a game between two of Lancashire's stronger union-playing schools the other day. To a large extent, what I saw was a mirror image of the fare provided week after week by our professional clubs: great commitment, strong foundations in the set-piece and defensive disciplines, little awareness of space and a deep reluctance to break free of the traditional ways of rugby thinking. There can be no more important task than driving forward the way we play the game in England: only by addressing this can we move ahead, and stay ahead, of our competitors at Test level. Why not use the Anglo-Welsh Cup to experiment with law changes, and run that process down through second-team rugby, academy rugby ... all rugby, if you like, below English Championship level? For years, such experimentation has taken place in a sanitised environment behind closed doors, generally at Cambridge University. To my mind, it's difficult to make a proper judgement on how coaches, teachers, players and spectators – the key stakeholders in the game, the people at the coalface – embrace the challenge unless things are done out in the open. Why not consider doing the unthinkable for once? Why not look at ways of extending the boundaries of the game by tweaking the laws, thereby matching the ambition rugby has shown off the field. Harlequins, Wasps, Saracens and now Sale are driving the "Big Game" idea by taking Premiership matches to major venues in London and the North-west, but brilliant off-field experiences are too rarely underpinned by brilliant entertainment on the pitch. If we could change that, we really would be moving in the right direction. I realise I'm arguing for a radical change of mindset here, and I accept it's unlikely to happen, but the introduction of experimental laws could be highly beneficial. For instance: we could adopt rugby league's 40-20 kicking rule, which would automatically restore full value to a positive, well thought out kicking game. Under this system, a kick from behind a team's 10-metre line that rolls into touch in the opposition 22 would see the attacking side retain possession, with the choice of a line-out throw, a scrum feed or a tap-and-go. The premium would be on accurate kicking and sharp decision-making – just what we want to see from our players at the top level. There are plenty of other possibilities: one example might be a different approach to the "advantage" law, placing more onus on the attacking side to make the right call immediately rather than lumber through half a dozen phases in the knowledge that the referee will take play back the moment something goes wrong. Certainly, it shouldn't be beyond the wit and wisdom of rugby people to come up with some imaginative tinkerings that might free up the game. Over the course of a 50-year involvement in the sport, I've come across a small number of teachers, coaches and players who think along these lines. Unfortunately, they have never been anything other than voices in the wilderness. Any document with "Changing the future of rugby in England" on its cover is making big claims for itself. If we're going to break things up and put them back together in a different, better form, let's not restrict ourselves to management issues. Let's go the whole hog. Sly encroachment of offside rules threatens attacking game Poor policing of the offside law continues to blight the game, making life impossible for ambitious teams who want to use quick ball in a positive, productive fashion. In my experience, it is the easiest thing in the world for a side to eliminate an attacking threat if, as part of their defensive strategy, they never retreat behind the back foot at the tackle area. Defenders routinely take liberties close to the ruck or maul. However, the bigger problem in modern-day rugby is illegal encroachment in the wider midfield and outside channels. Players in those areas have become extremely good at appearing to backtrack to an onside position while never quite managing it. This stifles adventurous rugby by strangling attacking intent at birth. All the advantage goes to the side without the ball, and this, in my considered opinion, cannot be right. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=72 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=72 The weather in the Lake District last weekend was not at its best – “inclement”, would be the most polite way of putting it - but there was something in the rugby played by Fylde during the first half of their league match at Kendal that did justice to the majesty of the surroundings, even if the scenery was barely visible to the naked eye. As a sporting experience it was both fascinating and uplifting, and it brought some cherished memories flooding back. No pun intended, I might add. When the rain is falling in torrents and the gods have thrown in a howling gale for good measure, most coaches and players fall back on low-risk, ultra-conservative, field-position strategy: kick the ball, chase it, and wait for the opposition to make a mistake. There’s nothing wrong with that…unless, of course, your mentality demands that you approach the game in a more challenging fashion. Fylde, the club with which I’m most closely associated these days thanks to the occasional contributions I make on the coaching front, took the more difficult, adventurous road and reaped the rewards of their ambition. There had been a 48-hour weather warning for Kendal and the forecasters were spot on. Yet the players set out their stall before kick-off when the scrum-half sauntered up to the referee and informed him that he and his colleagues intended to play a quick-ball game. The referee looked at him as though he were some kind of alien, yet in the teeth of the elements, Fylde performed with such discipline and intelligence that they registered a bonus point inside 25 minutes and reached the interval 36-0 up. They had taken up the challenge of beating the conditions rather than submitting to them, taking everyone except themselves completely off-guard. Their sense of satisfaction was tangible, and not being professionals, they were able to celebrate in time-honoured rugby fashion. Watching events unfold from the touchline, I found myself recalling some equally startling wet-weather performances that reminded all those who witnessed them of the full range of rugby’s possibilities. Back in the mid-1990s, the All Blacks, captained by Sean Fitzpatrick, found themselves playing a Bledisloe Cup Test against Australia in Wellington, a venue that is pretty breezy at the best of times and was particularly windswept on this occasion. The underfoot conditions were terribly difficult and the New Zealanders were operating in the face of horizontal rain in the first half, but their mindset and skill set were such that they were able to maintain possession for the entire 40 minutes, give or take a brief moment here and there, and snuff the Wallabies out of the contest. All this in the cauldron of international competition. Some 20 years previously, during my own playing days at Orrell, we had been drawn against Harlequins in the national knock-out cup. Quins were a big club then, as they are now, and they famously described Orrell as “a lay-by on the M6”. As the weather closed in the hours before kick-off - the playing surface was effectively a bog and the wind was gusting straight down the considerable slope – our captain Des Seabrook rubbed his hands in glee and said: “Let’s see how those southerners like this,” or words to that effect. A converted try was worth only five points back then. The result? We won 25-0. As a playing experience, it ranks right up there with the best. More recently, almost exactly a decade ago, Bath played a rearranged Heineken Cup game against Newport on a really mucky night needing not merely to win to qualify for the quarter-finals, but to score 11 tries in the process. Mission Improbable, said some. Mission Impossible, said others. On a surface made lake-like by rain that poured down in the aftermath of a heavy thunderstorm, Bath produced some sublime, ball-in-hand, dynamic rugby that brought them eight of the tries they needed. They may have come up short, but it was still a remarkable achievement. So what is it that enables this to happen? The most important ingredient is the belief that it can be done. If people believe, certain technical and tactical qualities then come into play. These include, in no particular order, the following: high-calibre resetting, with players regaining their feet quickly and repositioning themselves faster than the opposition; playing to the edges of the defence, with numbers running off No 12 rather than No 10 to attack areas where tacklers are beginning to thin out; latching early onto the player with the ball, helping him stay on his feet and drive as far as possible; employing the “two pass minimum” strategy rather than trying to run everything off the scrum-half; attacking space even in the most congested parts of the field with secure, sensible off-loading; and making the most of blind-side channels, creating space for the quick men with short passing and direct running. Crucially, teams should never abandon the concept of playing with width, for even in the worst conditions, there will always come a time when it can be used effectively. As the All Blacks have demonstrated so often and Fylde, in their own way and at their own level, reminded us last week, the “width principle” is at the heart of the matter whenever rugby shows the best of itself. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It was with great sorrow that I read of the death of Nat Lofthouse, our celebrated “Lion of Vienna” and a great England centre-forward. He was the epitome of the one-club man, his club being Bolton Wanderers, and I remember him as one of the real gentlemen of sport. Not that he was too gentle with me when, as a 20-year-old working in Bolton, I was invited by a colleague at Fylde, the England centre Malcolm Phillips, to sharpen my fitness with some Tuesday night sprint training down at Burnden Park. Our coach and fellow competitor turned out to be Nat, who was 40 at the time but still in top condition, as I found to my cost. At our first session, which consisted entirely of 50-yard interval sprints, he asked me if I wanted a five-yard start. Being a brash little upstart, I turned the offer down. He promptly beat me by eight yards and never asked again. Indeed, I went on to lose every sprint for a year. It was a painful lesson, but I consider myself privileged to have known Nat, however briefly. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=71 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=71 Now the excitement over John Steele's restructuring revolution at Twickenham has subsided, it will be fascinating to see how his master plan to push England along the rocky path to No 1 status in the world game unfolds in reality. Of the three new rugby directorships created by the chief executive, the "performance" role has attracted most attention – predictable, given that the usual suspects are being linked with the job. We can expect a wave of speculation over the next few months. Yet by indicating that this will not be an exercise in "looking backwards" and expressing a willingness to cast his net over the whole world of sport in his search for the right people, John has opened up a range of possibilities. Will the performance director turn out to be an Englishman? Will he be a rugby figure at all? Might those carrying inevitable baggage from their lifetimes spent in the union game be passed over in favour of someone who has a track record of management success in another sport? A fresh pair of eyes and a new perspective might be of benefit to the Rugby Football Union, but is there a candidate out there who has the vision, as well as the organisational expertise, to move things forward? We shall see. To my mind, the most interesting aspect of all this is elite player development. Who will be responsible for bringing our brightest youngsters, those with the capacity to win World Cups for England, to maturity? This was the raison d'κtre of the RFU National Academy I instigated some seven years ago – an academy that was disbanded, then given a quasi-reinvention as a team-based operation, which rather missed the point of the original idea. That idea was simple, yet challenging. Together with the cricket equivalent based at Loughborough University, many graduates of which are now household names, the academy was a vehicle designed to take carefully selected players on a journey that would, if completed, leave them in the best possible position to compete with, and beat, the best the world had to offer. We identified the best prospects from schools and clubs – and, in cricket's case, the county age-group sides – and sought to "grow" them in an environment that offered a great deal of individual attention, along with a significant level of peer-group pressure and competition. We spent around 12 weeks together each year – always in the school holidays, for some of those invited were still in compulsory education – and all aspects of technique, physical conditioning, game understanding, mental skills and lifestyle management were addressed on a daily basis. The heat was always on the youngsters because, in a wholly positive way, the environment was hostile. Mathew Tait versus Shane Geraghty versus Anthony Allen versus Dominic Waldouck in the centre? Danny Cipriani against Ryan Lamb at No 10? Ben Youngs versus Danny Care versus Joe Simpson at scrum-half? When these sorts of talents are brought together in intense competition, there can be no hiding place. And there wasn't. A lot was asked of the players involved. They had plenty of guidance and support but ultimately, we expected them to drive things through their performance and their behaviour, just as they would be expected to drive a contest on the field. To my mind, these were people who could go beyond simply emulating what they saw happening around them or what had gone before. I wanted them to change the nature of rugby, to shape the game of the future, and to this end, top-level coaches and athletes from other sports were brought in to widen the base of the education on offer. People came from judo to talk about body management and mental toughness; from track and field to talk about speed and concentration; from football and netball to discuss 360-degree vision, communication, off-the-ball movement, spatial awareness. What we didn't do, quite deliberately, was play fixtures. Why? Because the process of player identification was so rigorous, not all positions were filled by each intake. We were interested in quality, not quantity. It took us three years to find a lock – Dave Attwood, now a full international – we felt would make the right sort of contribution. And this was to be the academy's downfall. Despite its proven success in producing international-class talent, this radical approach to development was a concept too far for certain members of the RFU who could not understand that in many years the England age-group teams had only one player good enough to make the cut, and sometimes none. This is as true today as it was then: you have only to look at the wide age-range covering the current England team for evidence. Yet the idea remains dormant. Will we see an awakening when the RFU's revamped rugby department turns its attention to the home World Cup in 2015? I have no idea, but I would like to think so. Epidemic of arm-waving sends out all the wrong signals have you spotted the fast-growing trend of arm-waving in rugby at all levels? To be honest, you'd have struggled to miss it. Players, generally of the scrum-half variety, seem to be on a permanent mission to grab the attention of the referee and influence him in the hope he will penalise the opposition. It seems to me that modern No 9s consider theatrical gesticulation to be as much of an art form as passing the ball off the floor in one movement. What part of the week's preparation does arm-waving come under? Does it fall under the "technical" heading, or under "tactical"? I was a scrum-half once, more years ago than I care to remember, and I can honestly say I never had the inclination, still less the time, to concentrate on anything other than my skills. Rugby has changed, it seems. I have no doubt there will soon be an end-of-year award for the best arm-waver of the season. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=70 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=70 Watching some very strange goings-on at the line-out during last weekend's London Irish-Bath game at the Madejski Stadium – both sides seemed obsessed with off-the-top possession from the front, which exposed the outside-halves, Chris Malone and Butch James, to the close attentions of two destructive England flankers in the contrasting shapes of Lewis Moody and Steffon Armitage – snapshots of contests past flashed through my mind. I could not help thinking of Serge Betsen, the Frenchman known as the "Grim Reaper", and his harrying of the young Saracens stand-off Owen Farrell the previous week, and once I had a picture of Betsen in my mind, images of his ruthless dismantling of Jonny Wilkinson in Paris a few years ago came flooding back. Another thing occurred to me. By their own admission, a vast majority of coaches at all levels of the game do not spend nearly enough time with those players, principally No 10s, who operate in the firing line. These are the people who need to be put under the correct kind of pressure in training if they are to maximise their own performance and, by extension, the performance of the team as a whole. On the tick-box list of coaching priorities, the development of positional skills lags far behind technical improvements at scrum and line-out. The way I see it, this is a nonsense. It is often observed and widely accepted that the demands on the man in the No 10 position are among the most extreme in the game. He is consistently at the hub of it, in each and every respect: physically and technically, as well as in terms of game understanding and mental strength. We coaches can, if we so wish, lighten the load to a degree by supplying our outside-halves with what amounts to an American Football-style "playbook", full of set moves, phase calls, patterns and other constructs designed to dictate what happens in this attacking channel or that area of the pitch. Yet while this may give a player a plan to follow, it will not educate him in the ways of rugby wayfinding or give him the confidence to interpret a situation and arrive at the optimum decision. Of course, many of the great No 10s in rugby history were blessed by having outstanding players operating next to them – inside at scrum-half, outside at centre or, on a few rare occasions, both. As the modern game evolves and grows ever more dynamic, both in pace and in physicality, it is increasingly essential that the decision-makers in a side stick together and feed off each other. A No 10 operating alone, in not-so-splendid isolation, cuts a forlorn figure. Yet for all that, there is no escaping the fact that the outside-half inhabits a hostile environment – one in which he cannot hope to survive without the right attributes, no matter what help might be on offer from his colleagues. That being the case, it is completely counter-productive for coaches to create a training-field comfort zone for their No 10. Instead, they should constantly seek to challenge him, to turn up the heat on him, to force him into new ways of thinking under pressure that will, in the fullness of time, give him the ability to create order from the chaos around him. This reality of rugby decision-making at the top level is so harsh, there is no earthly point making life artificially easy for a No 10 in practice. From Monday to Friday, the outside-half should find his space being cut down, his thinking time being reduced and his technique being subjected to searching examination after searching examination. Why? Because this is what he will experience when he comes up against the Betsens of this world on a Saturday. When he receives the ball going sideways or backwards and the open-side flanker is licking his lips at the prospect of a kill, that tough love on the training field will be worth its weight in gold. It is too easy for an outside-half to buy himself breathing space at difficult moments by simply kicking the ball away: apart from anything else, this is precisely what the opposition wants to happen. Coaches should never let their decision-makers hide behind the boot rather than exploit the available space. The easiest space for a No 10 to identify is that combat zone between the attacking and defensive line. It is also the most difficult space to manipulate. Mastery of the art of controlling this space, shutting it down for the opposition while preserving it and creating it anew for colleagues, is what separates the great from the good. Remember this: a top-drawer No 10 is a lion, and while he may be armed by the ball-winning donkeys up front, he should never be led by them. Provided his own leadership skills are properly developed on the training field, forwards will always be happy to be the ones doing the following. Be bold and follow Saracens' example in big spring games The first weekend of 2011 was rich in unpredictability: Northampton lost at home, Bath won away, Sale bounced back from a 50-point hiding to beat a quality Saracens side and Leeds tasted Premiership victory for the first time this season. The established order was turned on its head, and as a result, there is now a lot more spice to affairs at both ends of the table. It will be fascinating to monitor how the various teams balance things out as the campaign heads towards its climax. Who will fall prey to the temptation of playing conservatively in pursuit of victory, working on the logic that winning is the sole aim, sufficient unto itself? And who will pursue something a little more challenging on the process and performance front in the belief that it will bring richer rewards? There will always be some, almost certainly a majority, who gather in the reins and take the safety-first option when the big games come along this spring. But I live in hope that a few, like with Saracens last year, will react positively to all the pressure by taking a bolder, more courageous road. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=69 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=69 In wishing everyone a happy 2011 – and a prosperous one too, although that might be asking a bit much in the current economic climate – I can say without fear of contradiction that this will be a momentous year on the Test scene, what with the seventh World Cup unfolding in New Zealand in September and October. Unless something peculiar happens during the Tri-Nations tournament preceding it, the All Blacks will start as clear favourites to reclaim a title they last won almost a quarter of a century ago. At this stage of the game, it's difficult to see beyond a victory for the host nation, ΰ la 1987. Domestically, it was intriguing to see 2010 drawing to a close with some lavish pomp and circumstance in the capital: a north London derby between Saracens and Wasps that drew a big crowd to Wembley, and a south-west London derby between Harlequins and London Irish that drew an even bigger one to Twickenham. The growth of "Big Game" rugby at club level has been one of the most striking developments of recent seasons and it is right to pay credit to those men in suits who are responsible for making it work. Unfortunately, few of the 60-plus players on show bought into the spirit of it. I don't suppose for a moment that Matthew Rouse, the supporter who won himself 250,000 by landing a ball on the Wembley crossbar at half-time, felt he had been short-changed by the rugby, and the same goes for all the performing artists who sang a song or two in return for big "wonga". But if truth be told, there was little in either match to set the juices flowing. At Wembley, there was some enjoyment to be had from the personal duel between Owen Farrell, the teenaged Saracens outside-half, and Serge Betsen, that crafty old fox of a French flanker, and I was delighted to see that Sarries had the bottle to keep Owen on the field for the full 80 minutes. Such priceless experience is worth many a coaching session. Andy Saull, another of Saracens' bright young sparks, also caught my eye. It seems to me that he should be rated more highly by those with a handle on England affairs. I watched events across town with something approaching disbelief as London Irish spent the afternoon battering away at the Quins defence, in old-school one-out fashion. What happened to their imagination and invention? What happened to their courage? Not so long ago, their excellent young coaching team could be heard talking in the boldest terms about players having a duty to perform with style and swagger. There wasn't much sign of these qualities last Monday, and I'll be interested to see if they can respond more positively when another struggling side, Bath, visit them today. It could be a pivotal game for both clubs. All four London teams failed to convince, particularly when it came to probing the outside channels. There were any number of moments when attackers outnumbered defenders, yet these promising situations failed to yield anything positive. Many sides claim to embrace the concept of attacking with width, but if there is no understanding of what this entails tactically, or if execution is not up to scratch in the technical sense, it plays directly into the hands of any drift defence worth its salt. This lip service is one of my bugbears, as is the current penchant for throwing long, lazy, looping and inaccurate spin passes – passes that encourage players to stand too far apart and do nothing for an attacking move apart from halt its natural momentum. Too often, we see people trying to operate deep behind "screen runners", or drifting across field rather than straightening the line. All this pedestrianism makes life easy for defenders. Oh to see another Jeremy Guscott in the No 13 position. The "prince of centres", as Jack Rowell used to call him, had no truck with the comfort-zone style of attacking. Here was a player who ran wonderful lines that really threatened opponents, obliging them to take decisions they didn't want to take and forcing them to make tackles they didn't want to make. His understanding of depth and angles, combined with an ability to vary his speed in a manner appropriate to the situation, troubled the very best defenders and made so many things possible for the support runners who revelled in the space he created. To all coaches who are serious about developing a potent attacking game, and to every young player in the country who wants to make the best of himself as a dangerous runner, I would say this: get out the DVDs of Guscott and watch a maestro at work. You'll learn something, I promise. Strauss and Flower right to ensure that normal life goes on There is an art to managing people in a high-pressure environment in a way that brings out the best in them, and from this distance – I've been watching events in Australia from the comfort of my home on the Lancashire coast – it seems the two Andys at the head of the England cricket team, coach Flower and captain Strauss, have mastered it. To retain the Ashes in such a commanding fashion in the hot-house surroundings of the Melbourne Cricket Ground speaks volumes for their handling of the squad. If there have been any apologies from those commentators and critics who pontificated on the adverse effects of families and loved ones joining the players in Victoria over Christmas, or spouted forth on the dangers of Jimmy Anderson flying home for the birth of his child, I must have missed them. I've long been suspicious of the "boot camp" approach when it comes to preparing for a sporting challenge on this scale: as we saw when the England football team attended the World Cup, such spartan methods can add to the pressure rather than alleviate it. For my money, normality of life is to be encouraged, not abandoned. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=68 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=68 Those with a well-developed taste for the ironic must have been amused by the sight of Toulon taking the field in Reading last Sunday with five Englishmen in their starting line-up, especially as London Irish fielded only eight of their own. Less than a fortnight before the game, the Rugby Football Union had publicly toughened its stance against any ambitious candidates for representative honours who might be tempted to broaden their horizons by playing offshore for a season or two. In light of the thoroughly modern, invigoratingly international flavour of the Anglo-French contest at the Madejski Stadium, is the governing body's argument really so clear-cut? Of Toulon's "mother country quintet", I suppose only Jonny Wilkinson and Paul Sackey might come on to the radar of the England selectors in the foreseeable future, and Paul has already announced his intention to retire from international rugby after next year's World Cup. I have a lot of time for the former Wasps wing: off the field, he is a very cool dude; on it, he has the predatory instinct common to all natural finishers. It's good to see him enjoying himself down there in the south of France. Predictably, the lion's share of the commentary surrounding the RFU's edict has been centred on Wilkinson's position vis-ΰ-vis his contractual situation at Toulon. Will he sign a new deal? If he does, how will it affect his chances of playing at the World Cup in New Zealand in nine months? As far as we can tell, he appears set on staying in France, and in theory, this puts him in the danger zone as far as non-selection for England is concerned. Yet judging by the way he played at London Irish, it will take a brave selector to leave him out. After the game, Jonny talked – as he so often does – about his constant desire to improve. This rings true with anyone who has worked closely with him and knows him well, because he has spent his entire career seeking out and making the tiny adjustments in preparation and technique that might make him a more effective player. No one ever questioned his work ethic, his dedication, his determination to be the best he can be. If he feels the French club environment is conducive to all that, good luck to him. His performance last weekend brought back memories of Wilkinson in his pomp. Thanks to that work ethic of his, he has always had an outstanding technique: the dexterity of his passing and the potency of his kicking off either foot are without peer; his defence is still good enough to deal with most situations. If his kicking no longer scares opponents to death in the way it did in Bloemfontein a decade ago he remains as dependable as any kicker in the sport. What really intrigued me about Wilkinson's display was his liberated approach to orchestrating and conducting Toulon's rugby – something I suspect took London Irish a little by surprise. When appropriate, he played right up in the faces of the Exiles' defence and frequently ran the ball himself. At other times, he brought those around him into the game with precise contributions from hand and foot. He switched the point and focus of attack intelligently, and, on more than one occasion, counter-attacked boldly off turnover ball. All in all, I saw a very different player to the one who appeared in an England shirt over the last 12 months. If this is what comes from spending some time in France... As we're on the subject of events in Reading, what about Joe van Niekerk? Here was an exceptional performance from a tremendously explosive, technically gifted individual – a No 8 who was not content simply to "cross the gainline", to use the modern parlance. Instead, he actively sought to break the tackle line in a whole series of inventive and unpredictable ways, get in behind the defence and cause havoc. He gave Toulon a different attacking dimension, asked some unanswerable questions of London Irish and reaffirmed his status as one of the modern game's unique players. Conflicting demands made Venter's rebellion inevitable Brendan Venter: non-conformist, or merely disrespectful? The rebel in me says the tick belongs in the first box. If the media insist on shoving microphones under the noses of coaches and players directly after important contests and the governing bodies complain when the answers to questions are truthful but not to their liking, where the hell do we end up? In the strange world of last week's Vicarage Road interview, that's where. There are conflicting forces at work here: satisfying the demands of the broadcasters while wanting people to toe the party line and do their bit to keep the administrators and tournament sponsors happy. All I know is this: the best press conferences I ever saw were those given by my sporting idol Muhammad Ali. They were irreverent, arrogantly prophetic and, without exception, brutally honest. Did they toe the party line? Not quite. Some of Venter's rival coaches – Toby Booth of London Irish, for instance – saw the funny side but not the administrators of European Rugby Cup Ltd. Big Brother is watching. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=67 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=67 How good it was to see the Barbarians back at Twickenham last weekend, recording another victory over a top-tier international side – by my reckoning, their win over the Springboks made it four such successes in three years – in the fashion those of us who value the intelligence of their rugby have long been accustomed to. I have to say I was disappointed at the absence of English talent in the Baa-Baas line-up, but then, it is hardly the first time home-grown Premiership players have been denied the opportunity to spend an enjoyable, instructive week in the company of some of the top performers in the world game. Once again, the invitation side defied considerable odds and flew in the face of modern-day theories of big-game preparation by producing a match-winning display on the back of a brief run-around on a snow-covered training field and a session in a school sports hall. There was a bit more to it than that, but only the people involved know precisely what went on behind closed doors. We were, however, given an indication of the thought processes by Matt Giteau, the Australian midfield player who led the team against the South Africans. He said the experience of playing Barbarians rugby reminded him of the reasons he took a serious interest in the sport in the first place, adding that the sense of freedom, the chance to combine instinct and hard-won knowledge in a fresh and creative way, made a welcome change from the regimented environment of team meetings and micro-managed build-ups that are so common in the professional game. This kind of talk raises the issue of how a different sort of environment – one that encourages creativity without losing sight of the importance of discipline and responsibility – can best be developed and, more challenging still, moves us into the difficult area of the relationship between the science of coaching and the art of coaching. The Barbarians do a lot of things right when it comes to bringing the best out of players, and this opinion was reinforced by a couple of last week's television programmes. The first was a recording of the 2004 "Strat Pack" concert, in which some of the great rock guitarists – Ronnie Wood of the Rolling Stones, Dave Gilmour of Pink Floyd and Brian May of Queen, among others – were drawn together to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the launch of the Fender Stratocaster. The musicians had next to no preparation time, yet they contrived to put on a terrific live performance highlighting world-class technique and, most importantly of all, their intuitive ability to adjust and react to those around them, often in a split second. Second up was a documentary devoted to the celebrated comedy show Blackadder, with contributions from the people most closely involved with the project: Ben Elton and Richard Curtis, Rowan Atkinson, Stephen Fry and Tony Robinson. It was Elton who explained how this extraordinarily creative group of individuals pooled their ideas – how each of them was encouraged to give his own take on how each half-hour episode should unfold. There were no restrictions on opinion, no rules as to who could say what to whom. As an exercise in collective activity, there was a kind of perfection about it. It struck me forcibly that there were common denominators between all three ventures: the Baa-Baas, the concert and the TV show. The environments were open, relaxed and interactive, featuring knowledgeable and accomplished people who understood the importance of technical excellence as a foundation stone of high-level performance and the value of adaptability. Peer-group pressure is vital in ensuring that when the important moments arrive, all involved are the best they can be. There can be no place for boundaries externally imposed by a coach; rather, the coach should encourage his players to look beyond the horizon. Eddie Izzard, the comedian, is not, as far as I know, much of a rugby nut, but he hit the nail on the head when he said: "Take the lid off the box of life, climb out, and explore the brave new world out there." I fear RFU diktat could strangle talent I see the Rugby Football Union has reaffirmed that, after next year's World Cup in New Zealand, those players serious about wearing the white shirt at representative level will have to be playing in England. This cannot be legally enforced, as I understand it, but the message could not be clearer. I understand the governing body's desire to exert as much control as possible over leading players in an effort to guarantee access to them, but I hope it is not shooting itself in the foot. I'm a firm believer that a young player in his formative years needs to expose himself to an enriching, challenging, games-based environment if he is to broaden his rugby knowledge. With the best will in the world, I can't say such environments are always available in the English Premiership. It may be that the RFU diktat proves to be a catalyst, leading to changes for the better in our domestic game. If so, all well and good. But equally, the opposite may turn out to be the case. We need a commonsense, balanced solution if our brightest young players are not to lose some of the best of themselves without even knowing it was there in the first place. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=66 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=66 So the autumn internationals are over for another year, and we've had a few days to pick our way through a mountain of information in the search for indicators as to who stands where in the great scheme of things. Two things are clear to me. Firstly, the All Blacks are some distance ahead of the pack, even though they spent most of their Grand Slam trip in third gear. Those opposing coaches who blamed error counts and poor decision-making for their sides' failures against the tourists were deluding themselves. The New Zealanders, armed with a smart back-room staff and some very smart performers, are thinking differently about the game – and playing it differently – to everyone else. Secondly, the November matches reminded us that teams who prepare for the hostile environment of Test rugby in a one-dimensional manner should not be in the least surprised if they are blown out of the water when the game fails to unfold in the way they predicted. There has been so much talk about the value of having a "Plan B" as a back-up when "Plan A" breaks down. I suppose one alternative is better than none, but "plan this" and "plan that" can only lead a team into a cul-de-sac. I'm reminded of the phrase routinely used by one of our elite military organisations. They say: "No plan survives its first contact with the enemy." I'm also reminded of events some 36 years ago in the country then known as Zaire. I've spoken about the great Muhammad Ali-George Foreman fight before, but I keep returning to it because I believe it went to the heart of high-level performance and should be adopted as a template for those serious about meeting that standard. Foreman himself gave a fascinating insight into the nature of that famous contest in a 10-minute interview on television this week. In endeavouring to explain exactly what happened to him, he conceded, almost as if still in a dream, that during the fight he could not comprehend how his punches were failing to have any obvious effect, either physically or mentally, on Ali. And remember: Foreman was, by a very long way, the most terrifying puncher in world boxing. In one memorable remark, he said his opponent seemed to have constructed a "mystical shield" around himself. More telling still was his acknowledgement that because Ali developed his plan of attack during the fight – not before – he could not react. Why did he find himself so paralysed? Because he had prepared for the fight in the complete certainty that he would knock Ali out. There was no "Plan A" or "Plan B" about Ali's boxing that night, as his manager, Angelo Dundee conceded in saying that while the man himself knew precisely what he was doing, the men in the corner were completely in the dark. What Ali brought to the fight was his depth of learning, his clarity of thought, a brilliantly conceived overview of the challenge confronting him and an innate confidence in his ability to identify and perform the skills required to deal with situations as they unfolded before him. He brought to his work a mastery of the principle of adjustment. (And I should mention here that there is a difference between adjusting and merely reacting. The first suggests a properly calculated, thought-through response. The second is more knee-jerk.) If we translate this to a team game like rugby, it is clear that the best preparation is based on the understanding that uncertainty and its consequences are the rule, not the exception. The "Plan A/B" approach assumes things will go one of two ways, and it has long been my opinion that, in top-level sport, assumption is a dangerous thing. The reality, particularly in Test rugby, is that once the whistle blows things can go in any number of directions. The best sides – sides like the All Blacks, with all the flexibility and elasticity they have in their game – practise to play rugby in its widest possible sense rather than manacle themselves to a predetermined system. If, as we head into World Cup year, their rivals are serious about closing in on them, they will surely have to take a similarly broad approach. Warm anticipation of the ultimate Test One of the joys of falling victim to the big freeze at the start of the week was having a perfect excuse to watch the first Ashes Test in Brisbane, where the temperatures appeared to be just a little higher. The game had its twists and turns: I was impressed by the way Andrew Strauss, mortified at his third-ball dismissal on the opening morning, responded in the second innings, and I was gripped by the performances of Alastair Cook and Jonathan Trott as England not only saved the match, but made a statement to the whole of cricket-obsessed Australia in the process. I'll be supporting England all the way, but I might add that the prospect of a tight, hard-fought series fills me with anticipation. Who will produce the decisive performance? Who will show the tactical inspiration to drive the match in an unexpected direction and wrong-foot the opposition? Yes, England finished strongly at The Gabba, but I'm not sure there are too many clues where things are heading. All I know is this: in an age apparently obsessed with cheap thrills and instant gratification, five-day Test cricket remains the definitive sporting contest. It has everything. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=65 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=65 Defence wins matches." "Defence is the best form of attack." How many times in recent years have we heard these phrases being trumpeted from the rooftops, usually by coaches who happen to specialise in...defence? Such mantras have assumed the weight and authority of Old Testament commandments, and are faithfully repeated before any game of significance. Yet, to my mind, they should always carry the rugby equivalent of a health warning, for unless the messages are explained to players clearly, correctly and in context, there is always the danger they will create a negative mindset. Something else occurred to me after reading the comments of Dave Ellis, the assistant coach at London Irish, namely, that the all-too-familiar messages about the importance of defence might usefully be adapted as follows: "Remaining silent wins matches," and, "A well-buttoned lip is the best form of attack." Dave can boast a proven track record as a defence specialist: he has enjoyed a good deal of success with the French national team and has a wealth of experience at club level in England. Given the number of times he has been around the block, I can only assume he now regrets expressing some fairly pungent views before London Irish made their Premiership trip to Wasps last weekend. In case you missed it, he told The Independent on Sunday he had cracked the Wasps defensive code, insisted that they were using an old and therefore risky system from a bygone era of rugby league, and declared that this was a contributing factor to the team's inconsistent form. Two things here. For a start, you would expect a coach of Dave's ability to crack a simple code, given the amount of video analysis technology available. Secondly, you can be sure Wasps players were made aware of his words before kick-off and took the field with their psyche refreshed. And guess what? Wasps won the game and denied London Irish a swift return to the top of the table. Of course, Dave was making a perfectly valid point in saying that any team employing one defensive system and one only leave themselves seriously exposed to opponents who have the capacity to attack with flexibility and variety. I've argued for more years than I care to remember that an ability to read a game and adapt to situations as and when they arise is central to success on the rugby field, and that is every bit as true when you're not in possession of the ball as it is when you are. Where I take issue with Dave is over the wisdom of shouting the odds ahead of a contest. The role of the defence strategist has been one of rugby's growth areas, yet it is far from the most difficult aspect of rugby to coach, practise and put into operation. There are fewer variables at work, and the key elements are relatively straightforward: getting your one-on-one tackling up to speed; making sure players understand the value of quick positional resetting; recognising the importance of having appropriate players defending particular channels; and, depending on the system you're employing, ensuring your line-speed is correct. However much defence coaches try to dress it up, there really isn't a great deal more to it. I'm not suggesting for a moment that strong, aggressive defence is worthless, but I do think some people have stopped seeing the wood for the trees. A couple of weeks ago, I visited Gresham's School in Norfolk – the Alma Mater of the England scrum-half Ben Youngs – and asked a group of 10 and 11-year-olds what key word they would choose as a defensive rallying call. One of them removed his mouthguard and said: "I'd choose the word 'attack', because attack is the best form of defence." How wonderful that a young player with no received wisdom, no historical rugby baggage, should come up with a little gem like that. He was absolutely spot on, because he was saying, in essence: "What are we seeking to achieve in defence? We're seeking to prevent the opposition scoring, and trying to pressurise them to the extent that they lose possession and give us an opportunity to mount an attack of our own." This might sound too simple for words, but I know of one team who base their entire game around this principle and do so to devastating effect. Yes, I'm talking about the All Blacks, and if it's good enough for them... http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=64 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=64 If I correctly forecast the result of last weekend's England-Australia match at Twickenham, it does not make me a fortune-teller. Yes, I thought the Wallabies could and would be beaten but, if I'm honest, I was many miles away from predicting that the contest would unfold in the way it did. There was a great deal to enjoy in the England performance, and we should ignore those critics who, even in the face of an 80-minute display of that quality, could not help highlighting individual errors or banging on that the tourists missed some early penalties. If you aspire to play in the dynamic, early-ball, offloading, space-attacking manner we saw on Saturday, it is inevitable that mistakes will be made. As far as I'm aware, the flawless game of rugby – the perfect game – is a figment of the sporting imagination. It doesn't exist, and it never will exist. Rugby of real ambition depends on individual decision-making, allied to an immediate response from the other 14 players in the side. Only in this way can a genuinely positive approach be kept on track, and the challenge is considerable. We may be talking about a simple game, but it places great demands on those attempting to play it with a high degree of adventure. Saturday's game marked a translation into action of a change of mindset first hinted at in Paris last March, when England played the Grand Slam-chasing French in the final round of Six Nations matches – a contest that followed hard on the heels of a miserable dirge at Murrayfield seven days previously. There were also indications that a switch had been flicked during the Test against the Wallabies in Sydney in June. Again, it had been preceded by a poor performance, in Perth a week earlier. In both Paris and Sydney, the team pieced together some of the components of the game we saw last weekend, but only for 20 or so minutes at a time. It seemed they had neither the belief nor the capability to go the whole hog. Last Saturday, those missing elements were very much in evidence, and it seemed to me that the discovery of them coincided with the fact that the much talked about younger players – Ben Youngs and Chris Ashton, Ben Foden and Dylan Hartley, Dan Cole and Courtney Lawes – had a little more Test experience to draw on. I said in these pages before the New Zealand game that these relative newcomers could be the agents of change in English rugby, and I'm happy to stand by that prophecy. This is not to ignore the performances of the more established members of the side, some of whom are bringing a good deal to the party. But a feeling persists that the newer group have injected an infectious brand of enthusiasm, and that this is behind the sudden embrace of an all-court style of rugby. I know the word "creativity" is rather moot in some circles, but if what Youngs did from behind his own line to launch Ashton on that wonderful try-scoring run wasn't creative, I don't know is. I'm told another fine scrum-half, Matt Dawson, suggested that no English half-back in 50 years would have taken that decision. This takes us back to 1960, and I have to say that Dickie Jeeps, who was playing then, wouldn't have done it either. Youngs is the catalyst for much of what is going on. By pure coincidence, I spent some of last week in Norfolk, visiting the school and club where he played his early rugby. By common consent, his great strength lay in his reading of the game – his ability to identify space and spot mismatches far earlier than his rivals. He is a No 9 in the old-fashioned French mould, prepared to assume leadership responsibility on the grounds that, more often than not, he is the first man to lay hands on the ball in attack. Also, he makes his decisions early – often before he is actually in possession. This gives him a valuable edge. The great news is that no one has managed to coach all this out of him. He'll make mistakes, and he has technical issues to address, especially with his passing. But when you have a player whose choices are so instinctively correct – when to feed the outside-half, when to go to the wider runners, when to hit the short side, when to box-kick – you really don't need to go down the road of forcing him to do particular things in particular areas of the field. Instead, you create a positive environment for him, wind him up and let him play. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=63 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=63 Liverpool 2 Chelsea 0, Fernando Torres back in the swing of things with two wonderful goals. Why do I mention this? Because it was the only shock result of the weekend. The outcome of the first round of autumn internationals was far more predictable, and while I might have risked a couple of bob on Ireland finding their way past a Springbok outfit shorn of 13 front-line players and coming off the back of a pretty desperate Tri-Nations campaign, the collective scoreline of Southern Hemisphere 3 British Isles 0 did not come as much of a shock. If I'm brutally honest, it came as no shock at all. One of my reasons for believing Ireland might have flown the flag for rugby in this part of the world was the Lansdowne Road factor, with the national team finally returning to their old/new stadium. Unfortunately for them and their governing body's ticketing policy, it turned out to be an old/new/half-full stadium, and the poor attendance did little to raise the spirits of Brian O'Driscoll's side. There again, I should have known the Boks wouldn't roll over. Some of their more experienced World Cup-winning personnel, Victor Matfield included, had spoken all week about the importance of rediscovering their mental strength through intensive preparation, and that intensity paid off. If they build on it over the next couple of matches, England could find them a real handful later this month. Which brings me to today's Twickenham visitors, the Wallabies, who continue to fly in the face of orthodoxy and accepted rugby logic in producing some breathtaking attacking play while spending much of their lives under the cosh at the scrum, which has been regarded since time immemorial as the foundation stone of the game. The Australians were completely stuffed in this area by Wales last weekend, just as they had been by England in Perth back in June. (They won that one, as well.) How the hell do they manage it? The explanation is simple, even if the act itself is supremely demanding. They have committed themselves body and soul to playing dynamic rugby, imbued with a sense of attacking purpose, irrespective of what they may or may not achieve at the set piece. The Will Genia-Quade Cooper-Matt Giteau triangle is at the heart of what they do, and I can't help admiring the variation, the flexibility and the subtlety these exceptional players bring to the game. Add to this the X-factor contribution of a full-back like Kurtley Beale and a wing like James O'Connor, and you begin to understand why the Wallabies feel they can win any match with 30-40 per cent of the ball. It is as though they have set their face against the twin gods of rugby: the god of quality possession and the god of territorial dominance. You have to credit them for their boldness. In Cardiff, Cooper was again the orchestrator-in-chief, playing his own version of hide and seek, sitting behind the attacking line before appearing quite suddenly in the firing line with all guns loaded. Through this unique approach to positional play, he has been able to develop his general "game sense". For instance, his decision-making when it comes to kicking – when, where and how – has become an important factor in keeping the Wallabies on the front foot even when they're on the back foot at scrum time. Having said all this, I take England to beat the Aussies this afternoon. Surely, the tourists cannot continue to defy belief, to fly in the face of all tradition, to keep on pulling rugby rabbits out of the hat by winning major Test matches while losing the set-piece contest hands down, conceding territory at every turn and shipping penalties by the dozen? Can they? In last weekend's game at Twickenham, all eyes were on Sonny Bill Williams, the latest addition to the All Black back line and a much talked about one at that. He did not disappoint. I'd followed his league career with great interest and felt the only question mark over this transition to the union game at Test level was his ability to handle the substantial pressure of making a debut at the home of rugby. Not only did he handle it, he showed enough quality to indicate that he will be an agent of pressure himself in the coming months and years. We knew all about his physical gifts and we were well aware of his technical attributes – his off-loading skills, in particular. Now, we know something else about him, something that will be the making of him as an All Black. We know he is mentally tough. This is the quality that separates the very best from the massed ranks of the rest, the thing that gives the Daniel Carters of this world their advantage over those who would challenge them. New Zealand now have Williams, Ma'a Nonu and Conrad Smith among their midfield options, with Carter operating inside them. Lucky them. Marshall, not Carter, had me on the edge of my seat I often find man-of-the-match plaudits to be a little nonsensical, and the decision to give the award to Dan Carter at Twickenham confirmed me in that view. I've made my admiration for Carter abundantly clear on more than one occasion, but it seemed to me he strolled through last weekend's game, doing rather less than some people seemed to think. To my mind, the standout New Zealand rugby player of the weekend came from the "other" code. Benji Marshall's performance against Australia in the Four Nations tournament was spellbinding. His array of tricks would have had the late Tommy Cooper on the edge of his seat – with his dancing feet, he had me wondering whether he was Quade Cooper in disguise – and his kicking game, shot through with clever little grubbers and sublime chips, many of them to himself, left the Aussie defence mesmerised. There was something of the one-man band about him, and if he ever follows Sonny Bill across the great divide and goes after a place in the All Black back division, the result could be scary for everyone else. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=62 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=62 The shores of Lake Windermere may be a million miles away, metaphorically speaking, from Twickenham, the Millennium Stadium and the other capitals of the international rugby world, but it is a beautiful place to spend some time, even when the Cumbrian weather renders the lake itself invisible. I was there the other day, doing some presentation work for the local Schools Sports Partnership – an organisation that will shortly find itself under severe financial pressure, thanks to cuts introduced by someone in government who has no idea of its value – and found myself revelling in the spirit of freedom and independent thought. Despite a good deal of early-season promise, much of the rugby we see nowadays has narrow-mindedness stamped all over it – not so much 360-degree vision as 360-degree tunnel vision – so I was happy to engage in a variety of fascinating discussions of a broader nature. Primarily, we talked about leadership and its importance to any concern, be it a sports team or a business, and generally agreed that the fewer followers and copiers an organisation has, the better its chances of hitting and maintaining a high level of performance. But this was tempered by the thought that sometimes judicious copying is extremely beneficial, provided the people doing the copying are equally judicious in their approach to adaptation and application. This notion resonated with me when Shaun Edwards, the right-hand man to Warren Gatland in the Wales coaching set-up, made a few comments ahead of today's meeting with Australia in Cardiff. Asked for his views on how his team should meet the challenge in light of the Wallabies' victory over New Zealand in Hong Kong – and what a contest that was – he indicated that Wales would have a real crack at the opposition whenever they laid hands on the ball, just as the Australians had done against their great rivals from across the Tasman. It is routinely said that the Welsh are as comfortable as any European team in playing an all-out attacking game with ball in hand. But does this mean they are truly capable of performing in the grand Tri-Nations manner? This is where adaptation and application come in. Any direct copying of Wallaby methods would amount to an admission that Wales consider themselves second-best, but knowing Shaun and Warren as I do, I'm sure they're thinking more along the lines of borrowing those parts of the Wallaby game that fit most easily into the existing Welsh method. As a means of making a good side better, it makes perfect sense. There was another comment out of Wales that struck a different chord. Gwyn Jones, a national captain in his day and a very bright back-row forward, suggested that Australia would go into this game with a ready-made advantage, having spent more time playing under the latest International Rugby Board directives concerning the refereeing of the tackle area. Talk about getting your excuses in first! In my view, this kind of thing really does leave a team deep in the "second-best syndrome". Irrespective of what happens over these four weeks of international activity, the rugby we saw in the Tri-Nations tournament, capped by that wonderful Bledisloe Cup encounter in Hong Kong, will live long in the memory, and should set the tone for the 2011 World Cup. This might be seen as a red rag to a bull in some quarters of the European game, but to my eyes, what we saw down south was the direct result of the Experimental Law Varations introduced by the IRB a little while back – those Satanic missives that frightened the northern hemisphere to death. Admittedly, there were major flaws, both in process and in content, but for those teams willing to enter into the spirit of them (that is to say, the Sanzar sides), the ELVs were highly stimulating. Indeed, they were central to the thought processes that enabled New Zealand and Australia to perform so dynamically against France and Wales this time last year. I believe there is still too much short-termism, too much conservative thinking, up here in the north. When I attended a Six Nations conference in Rome and suggested it was the responsibility of the coaches, not the lawmakers, to move the game forward and develop it as a spectacle, I can't say my words fell on receptive ears. But I was wholly serious: to my mind, coaches are guilty of a massive cop-out in leaving rugby's improvement in the hands of the legislators. It is far better, surely, for the leading teams to create environments where progress is driven by players free to approach their rugby with open minds. There are young players in this England side who are capable of pushing back the boundaries, and I'm looking forward to seeing the likes of Ben Foden, Chris Ashton, Ben Youngs, Dylan Hartley, Courtney Lawes and Tom Croft strutting their stuff and setting out their stalls. Will these individuals turn out to be the agents of change in the English game? We shall see. Winning isn't all in the mind, but belief is half the battle I have made only the odd passing reference to Exeter this season, but I must award them top marks for their outstanding Premiership victory at Saracens. Brendan Venter, the Sarries coach, was gracious enough to concede that a team armed with collective will and passionate belief can often defeat a group of more talented individuals. Will? Belief? These are intangibles, but a coach knows them when he encounters them. In my last year of teaching at King's School in Bruton, Somerset, the senior team went through an entire season without kicking the ball. It sounds ridiculous even now, but they scored tries at the rate of seven a game. The idea had nothing to do with me: the players themselves came up with it, and I went along for the ride. The point is a simple one: rugby is played as much in the mind as it is by the body. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=61 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=61 Now we are just about done with the Octoberfest – or, in Saracens' case, the Oktoberfest – we can look towards the November Test-fest and ask ourselves the usual question: is it meaningful, or meaningless? A lot has been said and written just recently about the ever-increasing volume of international rugby, and depending on where you sit, cross-hemisphere matches between teams at the start of their season and opponents at the end of theirs are either full of importance or empty of significance. This much is certain: many of the finest players in the world will be in these islands over the next four weeks or so, and if they bring the best of their ambition with them, we stand a fighting chance of witnessing something memorable. I take a purely academic interest in international affairs these days, so my overriding urge is to see the leading performers, many of whom see qualification for the knockout stage at next year's World Cup as a minimum requirement, operating in their natural habitat, rather than in an unnatural one dictated to them by a group of people who will never again set foot on the field. I've made no secret of my admiration for the likes of the New Zealand outside-half Daniel Carter and his Wallaby counterpart Quade Cooper, so now they're on their way here, the prospect of watching them navigate their way through some high-pressure encounters, drawing on all their instinct and imagination as well as skill and technique, is a thrilling one. The landscape of rugby at the world level has become kaleidoscopic in its dynamism and excitement: the scene changes constantly, more through accident than design, and teams must get up to speed quickly if they are to survive and thrive in what can easily become an extremely hostile environment. The successful ones will be those who make the best use of their road map – who recognise both the departure point and the destination, and understand how to get from one to the other. This is where decision making and direction taking in the 9, 10 and 12 positions are crucial. Test match journeys are never certain and seldom smooth: there is nothing of the comfortable departure from Heathrow and the soft landing in Auckland about them, particularly when the men from New Zealand have made the trip in reverse and are standing on the other side of the halfway line. Rather, they resemble a set of criss-cross paths deep in the forest, and the ones who emerge into daylight will be those who make the right choices at the right moments. All the leading players are equipped with the tools, both physical and technical, to complete the task in hand. I have no doubt about that. The question is this: do they have what it takes in the more abstract, less easily defined areas of sporting endeavour? Do they have the right mental equipment? And if the answer is "yes", do they have the courage, and will they be given the freedom, to use that equipment to the fullest extent? Rugby should be about simplicity and clarity, but too often, coaches complicate it to such a degree that the players find themselves lost in a Hampton Court Maze of confusion. It has long been a central part of my thinking that preparation is about situational coaching: that is to say, the presentation of problems that require individual players to show leadership and take responsibility. Only in this way can the key virtue – adaptability – be developed. It is adaptability in both the mindset and the skill set that sets the great practitioners apart. My mind goes back to one of the seminal moments in sporting history: the heavyweight title fight between my hero, Muhammad Ali, and George Foreman, down there in the jungle of Zaire. It took Ali about 45 seconds to realise that his preferred style of boxing, the kind of boxing that came so naturally to him, stood no chance of being successful in the heat and humidity of central Africa. He adapted on the spot, understanding that if he was to emerge victorious, he would have to visit the very extremes of physical pain and mental pressure. He made that journey, and in doing so, changed the way many of us looked at the world and its possibilities. This, it goes without saying, is the hallmark of the true champion. The man in the arena, alone in his vulnerability, who reacts bravely and intelligently to a particular set of circumstances and then becomes proactive in finding a way to bend them to his will, is the man who achieves the ultimate. Rugby, a team game, is very different to an individual pursuit like boxing, but it is a game of physical and mental extremes, and the two sports have pressures in common. We are at a late stage in the World Cup cycle, and many of the people best placed to dominate that tournament will be playing here during November. In that sense, what we are about to watch is very meaningful indeed. Vickery's leadership inspired such confidence in everyone Phil Vickery's retirement, announcement on Thursday, touched a nerve with me and brought the memories flooding back. I coached with Phil at international level between 1998 and 2002 and quickly came to regard him as a world-class operator. Back then, before the injuries really kicked in – and I wonder whether anyone has ever shown greater resilience in refusing to let such injuries end a career – he was something more than a magnificent tight-head prop, although that would have been enough. He brought added value to a team, and added value is what a coach hopes and prays for in a player. But that was not the half of it, for Phil brought added value off the field as well. His ability to get along with everyone, combined with a quiet authority which persuaded the noisiest and most opinionated individuals to shut up and listen, was priceless in bringing people together. It was why I made him my England captain in 2007. He inspired confidence and loyalty to such a degree that his colleagues, and I include myself in this, would have trusted him with their lives. If I am sorry he is lost to the game, I'm happy he can walk away from it in one piece, taking with him the respect of everyone who worked with him. He was one of those in rugby who understood the importance of treating people properly. For that, and for many other things, I thank him. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=60 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=60 The word "overview" is an important one in rugby: it was the transparent lack of one that cost my old club Bath a valuable victory over Biarritz in the first round of Heineken Cup matches – a calamity from which I'm still recovering! The thought occurred to me when I found myself enjoying what you might call a literal overview of last weekend's Amlin Challenge Cup game between Leeds and Stade Franηais from a television gantry at Headingley. Watching a rugby match unfold from an elevated position is always fascinating; indeed, I would venture to suggest that the ideal vantage points are always high up in the "gods". During my time with England, I would often join other members of the coaching team, usually Phil Larder or Dave Alred, in seats at the very top of the Twickenham stand and pass messages to Clive Woodward via radio link. There is no place for the lazy player to hide when he's being tracked by people who can see exactly what he is doing, or rather, what he isn't doing, and anyone taking a breather from the responsibilities of front-line decision-making is immediately found out. I vividly remember an occasion before the 1999 World Cup when I sat with a very young Jonny Wilkinson, watching England play a warm-up game against a team drawn from the northern Premiership clubs at Anfield, of all places. In the first half, we chose seats at precisely the viewing level Jonny would have had if he had been out there on the field. In the second, we retreated to the very top of the stadium and looked down on proceedings. Jonny's reaction was interesting. "I didn't realise how much space there is on a rugby field," he told me. As an exercise in building awareness, what we did that evening was a great success. Of course, the trick is for a player to see the same, wide-view picture of a game when he's out there in the thick of the action. This is where intelligently thought out coaching scenarios come in. Rugby is a game of "what ifs", and if coaches can find inventive ways of building problem-solving elements into their training programmes, their teams will quickly reap the benefits on the field. Too many people assume that the important decisions are the sole preserve of the man with the No 10 on his back. I have long subscribed to the view that additional pairs of eyes and ears in less congested areas of the field are vital. The inside-centre position is crucial here, as is the role of the full-back, who can take a panoramic view of a game. Any full-back worth his salt should be able to offer succinct, instructive comments to his colleagues 20 minutes into a match, highlighting any defensive idiosyncrasies he may have spotted among his opponents that might be worth exploiting. Far from simply concentrating on his "own game", he should be thinking, calculating and advising on a minute-by-minute basis. Some players – and they are rare indeed – have the capacity somehow to rise above the contest and give themselves an overview while embroiled in the heat of battle. Sean Fitzpatrick, the great All Black captain, could do it, and when he was asked how he had developed this priceless quality, he replied: "By becoming a student of the game." I had the good fortune to work closely with two other members of this select group, people who happened to come from the same family. I played alongside the England No 8 Dick Greenwood, whose innate sense of the way a game was shifting allowed him to make correct decisions under pressure. Happily, there was something in the genes, for Dick's son Will had a similar ability, to the extent that he was probably the most intelligent inside-centre communicator I've seen. Which brings me to the forthcoming internationals and the two brilliant "overview" specialists who are heading our way: Daniel Carter, the All Black stand-off, and Quade Cooper, his opposite number with the Wallabies. I've watched both men carefully in recent months and I have a suspicion that they are consciously trying to take the orchestration of rugby into new areas. In particular, they are organising and manipulating those playing further up the field in a way that allows them to pick and choose the optimum moments to intervene personally. This is clever stuff – there are shades here of Shaun Edwards in his days as the ultimate match-winner in rugby league – and it depends on a number of interlocking factors. For one thing, it cannot work unless the man pulling the strings has sufficient authority and strength of character to persuade his colleagues to take on the extra workload involved in freeing up a single individual. A complete team buy-in is essential. For another, it takes a person with the breadth of vision we see in someone like Carter to gather all those strings together and make the game dance to his tune. I look forward to watching them close-up in November. Every man for himself in 'meat' market Flicking through the television channels the other day, I came across an interview on Sky Sports News with Roy Keane, the manager of Ipswich Town, and almost fell off my chair. Asked how Wayne Rooney should approach the next episode of the saga surrounding his position at Manchester United, Keane said he should think only of himself, adding: "After all, players are only slabs of meat." During the 12 years I spent working at the top end of professional sport, I had my share of dealings with executives, managers and coaches who patently considered players to be just that. But to hear it stated so openly and explicitly on TV was scary. Aspiring youngsters, beware! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=59 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=59 The opening round of the Heineken Cup did not quite produce the pyrotechnics we were anticipating with Clermont Auvergne and Toulouse playing on home soil, where so many visitors have found themselves in the middle of a serious firework display. To use a metaphor Gavin Henson might recognise as he continues his new career, the cancan we expected was replaced by a slow, sedate waltz. Come back Stade Franηais and their owner Max Guazzini, the consummate rugby showman. But there was, as ever, a theme to events, and by the time the Sunday games were completed, we were reminded of one of the great truisms in rugby: namely, that the moment of judgement is reached at the final whistle and not before. London Irish, who performed extremely impressively for so long against the hardened European campaigners of Munster, may well come to rue the lapse in concentration that allowed those eternally competitive Irishmen to score at the death and take a losing bonus point back to Limerick. Wasps, meanwhile, battled valiantly against the odds in Toulouse and earned an opportunity to pour bucketfuls of cold water on the reigning champions. Agreed, the match-deciding penalty shot came from a wholly unnecessary flash of indiscipline that will not have gone unnoticed by the Toulouse coach, Guy Novθs, and probably won't go unpunished either, but teams visiting this part of the world are rarely able to pick and choose the ways in which their chances arise. In the event, the penalty, taken as the clock ticked down towards time, was missed. Down in Italy, the underdogs of Treviso were in a prime position to cause a real upset against Leicester, but allowed the Midlanders to sneak the result late on. Maybe we should not have been surprised at the eventual outcome: if there is any side in the top echelon of European rugby who always play for the full 80 minutes, Leicester are the ones that spring to mind. If only Bath had held themselves together for the duration, they would have beaten Biarritz at the Recreation Ground the following day. Sadly for my old club, this was a classic example of a team losing their grip, their bearings and their sense of direction under pressure. They started confidently enough, scoring a fine try in the opening minutes, but the Basques, equipped as usual with a driving forward unit and benefiting from the imperious boot and all-round generalship of Dimitri Yachvili at scrum-half, worked their way back into the game. They may have gone about it in unspectacular fashion and it struck me while I was watching that certain Bath packs of old would never have allowed them to secure a foothold, but they knew what needed to be done to get the measure of this particular Recreation Ground vintage. For all that, Bath should have closed out the game with a drop goal in the closing minutes. They had the field position and they had kickers available. What they did not have was the capacity to take the right decision, which was staggering. It's not as if this is some newfangled theory: after England's World Cup victory in 2003 – a win ultimately achieved because a number of players with complete awareness of the necessary process executed a particular set of skills that resulted in Jonny Wilkinson's famous late strike – the decisive drop goal has become commonplace and is part and parcel of most teams' armoury. Indeed, many sides prepare specifically for this eventuality. For reasons best known to themselves, Bath chose a different approach – and went the same way as the All Blacks when they failed to take the drop goal option in their World Cup quarter-final against France three years ago. What on earth happened? Were the key players caught up in the emotional excitement of the moment? Did the lines of communication completely break down? Were they so convinced of their ability to score a try, even though they were playing a man short, that they lost sight of the position in which they found themselves? Only those directly involved know precisely how they fell victim to the wrong thinking at such a crucial moment. All this reinforces the importance of the mental dimension in big-time rugby. For players to concentrate successfully on the task in hand – winning – two things must happen. First, they must show great attention to detail, to process and execution. Secondly, and this was sadly missing at the Rec, there must be a wider awareness, an accurate overview of the balance of the contest. Thinking clearly under pressure is every bit as vital as performing skills accurately under pressure. Probably more so at the very top end of the game. Ultimately, clarity is the thing that separates the successful teams from the also-rans. Levein meets his no-win objective It's not often that I dip my toe in the choppy waters of football, but I was startled by Scotland's approach to their European Championship qualifying game with the Czechs last week. The contrast with events at the Rec could not have been greater: Bath gave themselves a chance to win and failed, in spectacular fashion, to take it; Scotland travelled with no intention of winning at all. Their manager, Craig Levein, stated publicly that his now notorious six-four-zero formation was not designed to pursue victory – an unusual way of going about things, to say the very least. He was spot on with his tactics and succeeded in his objective, for Scotland very definitely failed to win. If Craig was a banker, he'd probably be in line for a bonus. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=58 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=58 The start of a Heineken Cup campaign is a treat for us all, not least because the tournament asks such fresh and challenging questions of its participants, many of whom will quickly discover that delivering high-level performances in an unfamiliar environment is no easy matter. By coincidence, I spent last weekend watching a variety of sports, both live and on television, in which teams and individuals showed exactly the combination of qualities needed to succeed in a tournament as demanding as the Heineken. In fact, I would go as far as to describe the recent fare as a bonanza for the general sports enthusiast, which is what I consider myself to be. I started by tuning into the fabulously dramatic event that was the Ryder Cup at Celtic Manor: a gladiatorial competition that tested the technique and mental toughness of the golfers, each of whom were confronted with the added pressure of operating within whispering distance of passionate supporters gathered around tees and greens. Few sports place this particular kind of stress on the leading practitioners and it made for gripping viewing. What with the weather conditions, the interruptions and the ebb and flow of the contest, adaptability was a crucial weapon in the armoury. Its importance was further underlined when, a little later, I watched the extraordinary Indian cricketer Virender Sehwag turn the hard-fought Test against Australia in Mohali with a 39-ball half century. This prompted one of the commentators to describe Sehwag's innings as "paradigm shift batting". I've talked of paradigm shifts more than once in these pages – the idea that the top-class rugby player should have the ability to embrace wholly different and transformative ways of thinking in seeking to shift the balance of a match has been central to my coaching – and I saw something special in Sehwag as he brought the skills and mentality of Twenty20 cricket to the Test arena. From there, it was off to the beautiful surroundings of the southern Lake District to watch the youngsters of Sedbergh School engage in some paradigm-shift thinking of their own in a first XV match that, in its context, was as good as any game of union I've seen all season. Their exceptional display of attacking rugby was the product of the liberating mindset inculcated by teachers who insist, in a phrase my great sporting hero Muhammad Ali understood better than anyone, that nothing is impossible in terms of sporting performance. They defended as though their lives depended upon it to keep a clean sheet, played with width, kept the ball alive with some splendidly direct short passing and showed a willingness to challenge their opponents from anywhere and everywhere. This was underpinned by a vibrant mix of pace and accuracy, together with an approach that was confrontational in the fullest sense of the word. To watch all this in such a blissful part of the world was a joy. I should mention at this point that I subsequently met up with John Fletcher, the former Newcastle director of rugby who now runs the show with the England Under-18s. He told me over a bacon butty that there are some outstandingly talented youngsters starting to make their way into the adult game. He also said that at a recent meeting with leading figures from the Premiership clubs, he had put forward the opinion that in many cases, this talent was being over-coached in the professional environment. As this column has been down this road more than once, I can only say: "No surprise there, then." Equally unsurprising was the club contingent's vigorous denial of the charge. Back on my voyage across the sporting landscape, I made sure I was in front of a television set in good time to watch the Super League Grand Final between Wigan and St Helens at Old Trafford. It may be the case that no one living south of the East Lancs Road or north of Bolton could conceivably understand the depth of rivalry between these two giants of the 13-man game, but believe me, they produced a contest that combined all the elements I've been discussing and put them on display for the full 80 minutes. Positive thinking was the central component of Wigan's victory and I, for one, revelled in it. Happily, the Heineken Cup is precisely the kind of tournament that inspires positivity. Its cross-border nature ensures that people find themselves operating a long way outside their comfort zones. More importantly still, the serious contenders know that a conservative mentality – an exercise in sameness – will not win them the most sought-after club trophy in European union, or even take them close. In my experience, it is the uncoached and uncoachable flash of genius from the special player that defines the competition and decides the destination of the silverware. I'm looking forward to the latest instalment with great anticipation. Tiger teaches us not to write off legends We must all beware of writing off, or slagging off, special sportsmen who happen to be going through dark moments. I was startled, to put it mildly, when, during the build-up to the Ryder Cup, a journalist publicly described Tiger Woods – to Tiger's face – as a "normal player". Assuming he was present to see Woods tear up the course during the singles with some truly sensational golf – nine under for 11 holes is quite something, you'll agree – the man must have scoured the whole of Wales looking for a stone big enough to hide under. The great performers achieve greatness over a period of time. To question their ability on the basis of one rough spell is nothing short of fatuous. Keep up to date with Brians thoughts in the independent every Saturday at www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=57 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=57 It was with mixed feelings, including a degree of disbelief, that I followed the Steve Borthwick saga as it unfolded in the early part of the week. For those of you who missed it – and I can't imagine it gave too many rugby followers the slip – the incident was sparked by Steve's absence from the official launch of the Heineken Cup. Where was he? At the annual Munich Oktoberfest, on a "team-bonding" trip with his fellow Saracens. A leading player misses a function sponsored by a beer company to attend one of the biggest beer festivals in the world? There's a comic element to the story, you'll agree, not least because Steve is no one's idea of a boozer. Of course, "Those Who Must Be Obeyed" failed to see the funny side, and as a result Saracens may be fined by the Heineken Cup board, despite issuing an apology within 24 hours. It is this whole "obedience" thing that interests me. We're told by Saracens that it was the club, not Steve, who decreed that he should travel to Bavaria. But Steve is a smart guy, and he would have foreseen the potential problems. Did it cross his mind to impress on Saracens that as he would be the one singled out for his non-appearance, it might be sensible to forgo the delights of lederhosen-clad bar staff and pitch up in Cardiff instead? On a much more serious subject, did it ever occur to Tom Williams, the Harlequins wing who notoriously obeyed orders to bite on a fake-blood capsule, to refuse to participate in this piece of naked cheating and tell the management they should stick the offending object elsewhere in their own anatomy? It leaves me wondering whether teams are in danger of "unionising" the union game by insisting that their players show complete solidarity in following the party line. This leads me back, albeit in a slightly oblique way, to the days when I was instigating and running the national academy, which had a simple, unashamedly elitist brief: to produce players capable of winning World Cups at senior level. "Elitism" was a dirty word in many areas of life at that time, including in my own field. In the club academy system, quality and individuality were considered less important than quantity and what I call "followership". Too many influential characters were suspicious of a philosophy of "singling out" in a team sport. They found it difficult to get their heads around the fact that my academy would have no fixture list; that some positions might not be represented in a particular intake; and that there would be no frowning on people who dared to challenge traditional modes of behaviour on and off the field. Some might have dismissed it as chaotic and I'm the first to admit that it was different. But it was rooted in my experience at Bath between 1988 and 1996: a period in which I received a special kind of rugby education, guidance and enlightenment from Jack Rowell and those around him. It was a high-level, high-performing precursor to the national academy in which those participating had the added responsibility of playing and winning games under pressure in an extremely demanding competitive structure. The environment created by Jack and company highlighted the importance of operating outside the norm. Except on cup final day, when we all looked distinctly uncomfortable in our blazers and shirts and ties, the group dressed down, like some rock 'n' roll outfit from the 1960s. Yet like the top bands of the time, they transformed themselves in performance, becoming an exciting and formidable performance-based act. At the academy, we drew on this ethos. Of course, we understood the basics of collectivity, but we also challenged each player to embrace the whole range of rugby's possibilities, to look at the game in different ways through different eyes. We used the skills and disciplines of judo, netball, football and athletics to broaden both the mind-set and the skill-set. We also brought in specialists in the field of mental skills to help players think clearly and cope better at the crucial moments – the hallmark of world-class performers across all sport. (I might add at this point that those specialists are now to be found working, extremely effectively, for another of rugby's major governing bodies.) Yes, rugby is team-driven. But in my view, it is incredibly difficult to develop a truly successful team environment if the beliefs and ideas of the people within it are sacrificed on the altar of the collective. There are times, quite clearly, when individuals should stand up to be counted by speaking up. If you squash that, you squash what's best in the game. Referees risk being left in the slow lane Watching my local club Fylde play at National Division Two level last weekend, and then tuning in to view London Irish's excellent performance at Newcastle in the Premiership, I was vividly aware of the demands on modern-day referees and understood perfectly why some people have called for an additional official on the field. Both winning teams operated at sustained pace, taking full advantage of the latest moves to free up the tackle – an area that was such a stain on rugby this time last year. I sympathise with referees as they try to keep tabs on a sport that places ever-increasing demands on fitness. It's a tough enough job when the game is played at carthorse speed. At racehorse speed, will union soon become impossible for one man to control? http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=56 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=56 Brian Ashton, on Aussie toughness and batting with Bumble - Interview by Richard Gibson, Illustration by Andy Ward I played a lot of street cricket Batting on cobbled stones or uneven surfaces makes you into quite a creative, innovative player. It was nothing like playing on a flat track. I played for Lancashire at under-15 level alongside David Lloyd. I was an opening batsman who kept wicket. I used to love facing the fast bowlers: the faster the better. You could use the pace of the ball to your advantage and it always travels faster when it is at its newest. My theory was that you got more loose balls in the first half hour than at any other time, as bowlers more often than not were yet to find their rhythm. I was never one to get my head down and bat out a day. It wasn't in my nature, I liked scoring quickly. Frank Hayes was another who liked putting bat to ball. He scored a shed-load of runs on one Lancashire Federation tour to the Midlands. Bumble was also in that side and, although I have regularly seen him on telly over the years and no doubt he will have seen me, our paths have never crossed again. Bumble was our left-arm spinner in those days and David Hughes batted higher up the order than him. Their roles obviously changed during their professional careers. It was never my childhood dream to play for England - my dream was to play for Lancashire. In my day we lived in a very small world and getting on the staff at Old Trafford was a major goal. I love the individual challenges in Test cricket. Having been involved in international sport I have a huge amount of admiration for the mental skills of players. Take Paul Collingwood's ability to play match saving innings. Three times inside a year he saved the team from defeat and that takes some willpower and concentration. If you make eight mistakes in a game of rugby you can still get the Man-of the Match award but as a batsman you have just one chance. The mental toughness of being able to focus on the next ball for five hours and not make a costly error is incredible. I will be watching as much of the Ashes this winter as I possibly can. Playing in the Ashes has to be the pinnacle for any English or Australian cricketer and at the moment I dont think you could split two evenly matched sides. You write Australians off and they come back and bite you. Whatever the sport they have a fantastic winning mentality. Having said that, I think this England team at the moment could handle anything, so it will be intriguing. Garfield Sobers was the man that did it for me. He was the perfect allrounder and when you watched him you were never quite sure what was going to come next. That's my kind of player. Ian Botham was in the same category - one of the guys who has the X-factor and the ability to do something unexpected, something you just cannot explain. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=55 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=55 Three rounds into the new Aviva Premiership campaign, only Northampton have yet to be beaten. It may be that by close of play tomorrow, they too will have tasted defeat: they face a tough match at Saracens, the team who gave them more trouble than anyone last season and have recovered quickly from losing at Twickenham on the opening weekend. But Northampton themselves appear fully rejuvenated after the disappointments of April and May and it is a sign of their rapid development that expectations are so high. We should keep reminding ourselves that this time three years ago they were spending their Saturdays visiting the likes of Launceston and Sedgley Park in the Second Division. I like the way they play: direct and physical, they work hard in defence, show great clarity and certainty with or without the ball, have the ability both to play with width and to hit the short side, and can keep opponents on the back foot with their kicking game (especially teams who have neither the skill nor the inclination to counter-attack – such teams still exist, even in this day and age.) They have an all-court game, spiced with the razor-sharp interventions of Ben Foden from full-back and the instinctive try-poaching of Chris Ashton on the wing. Ashton is quite something at the moment. It's all in the name, I suppose! Given my long association with Bath, I was intrigued to see how my old club would handle their visit to Franklin's Gardens eight days ago – not least because they were the only other unbeaten side in the tournament. To be frank, Northampton did a demolition job on them, especially in the second half, when their rugby metamorphosed into something very impressive indeed. It seems to me that, in common with other high-performing sides around the world, they are veering back towards an old-fashioned approach built on judicious use of personnel and a deep-seated sense of purpose. You have only to look at the performances being delivered by Dylan Hartley to see the truth of this. I know Dylan well from my days running the national academy and I have never been in any doubt that he can contribute at the very highest level, provided his natural aggression is properly channelled and the need for responsibility and accountability is impressed upon him. Northampton pulled a master stroke by making him captain, for his rugby is now on a tremendous upward curve . Such intelligent decision- making does not come as any great surprise to me, for a clever, pragmatic, all-English coaching combination operates at the heart of the club, providing an excellent technical framework in which gifted players like Hartley can flourish. Jim Mallinder, Dorian West, Paul Grayson... I've had the good fortune, indeed the privilege, to work with the three of them down the years and I know from personal experience that they bring to the party a range of special gifts, contrasting but highly compatible. Jim is a knowledgeable rugby man blessed with an unusual degree of game understanding gleaned from the years he spent as a top-class full-back – a position that offers the observant individual a panoramic view of the sport: its simplicities and complexities, its possibilities and realities. In addition, he has a far harder edge than people assume when they make his acquaintance for the first time. Jim may be one of life's good guys, but never make the mistake of thinking he's soft. Dorian and "soft" have never gone together: a product of the school of hard knocks at Leicester, he has always had a front-rower's appreciation of the value of intense physicality. Yet in his own inimitable way, he also has an eye for rugby's subtleties and sophistications. Yes, honestly! I've discussed and debated these things with him more than once and witnessed some of his highly effective skills sessions, in which he encourages forwards to pass the ball before contact. Very trendy, you'll agree. As for Paul, he is best remembered by those who don't know him well as a kicking outside-half of great ability, as befits a man whose football career took him to the dizzy heights of Accrington Stanley. I have tended to see him very differently. To my mind, he was, and remains, a genuine student of the game – a highly intelligent sportsman equipped with the many and varied qualities that go to make up an outstanding coach. Together, the three of them have these qualities in abundance: an appetite for hard work, a sense of humour and, most importantly, a sense of life perspective. What is more, they steer well clear of the publicity machine that seems to drive more and more of the people involved in rugby. I expect great things of them. 'Shadow man' Walder gains substance I call David Walder the "shadow man". A talented, multifaceted outside-half, he spent his Newcastle career in the shade cast by Jonny Wilkinson and then found Danny Cipriani hogging the limelight at Wasps. He is the main man at Adams Park now, and I was delighted to see he delivered a match-winning performance against Leicester last weekend. However, what really caught my attention was his mention of a part-time coaching role at Rosslyn Park. David said the experience had increased his own game understanding, and I could see his point. The All Blacks coach, Graham Henry, has described Daniel Carter, the world's best No 10, as his "coach on the field". If that's the case, logic says that outside-halves who take the trouble to get their hands dirty by helping out other teams will give themselves an advantage. Who knows? We might finally see the demise of coach-driven decision-making when the game is actually being played. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=54 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=54 Once again, I was riveted by the dynamism of southern hemisphere rugby as the All Blacks and the Wallabies ran down the curtain on this year's Tri-Nations Championship. Last weekend's game in Sydney was not as high-scoring an affair as some of those we've seen in recent weeks and it seemed to me that there were more errors, but there was still an enormous amount to admire, particularly from a New Zealand side who were outplayed for 50 minutes yet still believed – correctly, as it happened – that if they stuck to their road map, they would find a way of reaching their destination. As rugby journeys go, the All Blacks' version is rarely less than exhilarating. This depth of belief, which manifests itself in a determination to play from anywhere on the field while keeping the tempo high and maintaining the highest level of physicality, reminds me of the great England side that flowered in the early 2000s. Looking back, we coaches had a very special group of players at our disposal, and this raises a fundamental question about success at the very top level: is it an accident of birth? When you think of the "big beasts" at the heart of that team, from the Johnsons and Dallaglios and Hills up front to the Dawsons and Greenwoods and Robinsons outside the scrum, it is fair to suggest that we'll be very lucky to see such a concentration of fully developed talent again. And if that is the case, what is to be done? If taking the top-down route to fulfilment is a once-in-a-lifetime luxury, is it possible to achieve something similar by evolving from the bottom up? Over the summer, I've worked with scores of youngsters aged between 10 and 16, spent a good deal of time with school sides in the mid-teens bracket and made my way back into a thoroughly enjoyable form of senior coaching with Fylde. I've tried to make each and every session as inclusive as possible by attempting to draw from these many and varied people a firm view on the sort of game they want to play. Virtually all of them talked about the rugby produced recently by the Antipodeans and in so doing, they trotted out all the modern buzzwords. But when I pressed them to come up with precise ways of delivering that rugby on the field, the words tended to dry up. Words are cheap; actions are more challenging. This takes me back to the roots and structure of the game in England: how children are introduced to rugby, how skills are taught and how the competitive environment is presented to them. As I've argued before, we're not getting things right. This is not a criticism of the teachers, parents and coaches who give freely of their time to ensure a constant stream of new players at the lower levels of the sport. They have a big responsibility in giving these kids an insight into rugby, and in a vast number of cases they do a brilliant job. But the ex-teacher in me wonders whether the freedom of games-playing in the street and the schoolyard is lost to our youngsters the moment they show any sort of talent for rugby and are picked in a team. If we really want to produce a generation armed with both the core skills and the ambition to play like the All Blacks have over the last few months, we need them to retain the spirit of the street game. Why not recreate the best of it in training? Why not tweak the laws a little in age-group matches in an effort to reclaim some of the individuality and improvisatory qualities that mark out the gifted sportsman in his formative years? If we can offer young players a judicious mix of skills development and pure excitement – not just on the practice pitch but in game situations too – we might find them enjoying their rugby a bit more. Too many of them play union to the exclusion of everything else, and as a result, I'm not sure they find as much enjoyment in it as they should. Our World Cup-winning side of 2003 was full of individuals who had played as amateurs and had spent a good deal of time dabbling around in other sports, in some cases rather successfully. Even now, many of the top southern hemisphere names play touch rugby as a means of clinging to the old, invigorating notion of sport as a glorious hobby. As I said at the start, rugby journeys can be thrilling. In fact, they should be. Who knows? If we move away from the overstructured coaching that too easily leads to a cloning of our young players and concentrate more on encouraging self-expression, we may find ourselves on a road with treasure at the end of it. Robinson gets up and running again Jason Robinson returned to the competitive arena with Fylde last weekend and as expected, his appearance in the local derby against Preston Grasshoppers generated a good deal of interest. The game was pretty close for 40 minutes, partly because people came up with a number of "interesting" ways of preventing the great man getting involved, and partly because some of those around him had an attack of stage fright. But once he'd dusted off the cobwebs and his colleagues had come to terms with playing alongside one of the true legends of the sport, we saw a second-half display of relentless running rugby resulting in a comfortable victory. Jason didn't score, but he was bewitching in creating opportunities for virtually everyone else. I wonder if Graham Henry and Robbie Deans would appreciate the DVD. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=53 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=53 Candidates for team of the week? Exeter, triumphant on their Premiership debut, were certainly among them, having sent notice to the rest of the top flight that Sandy Park will be no holiday zone this season. Northampton, comprehensive winners in their derby contest with Leicester, also caught the eye – especially in the front row, where Soane Tonga'uiha, Dylan Hartley and Brian Mujati delivered excellent performances in both tight and loose. Had Stephen Myler been in any sort of kicking form, they would have put 40 points past the meanest defence in the country. But I hope enthusiastic followers of the club game in England will forgive me if I nominate the Wallabies as the pick of the bunch. Their Tri-Nations victory over the Springboks in Bloemfontein was one of those high-scoring affairs increasingly in evidence on the far side of the Equator: they just about shaded the decision in an 80-point encounter, even though Victor Matfield, the South African lock, made the play of the game with a barely credible run/chip/off-load routine to create a try for Jaque Fourie. (If I'm honest, I can't remember Nigel Redman pulling that sort of stunt during our time together at the Recreation Ground in Bath!) I'll say here and now that the Australians will pose a definite threat at next year's World Cup. They are playing a challenging brand of rugby that is confrontational in all the right ways: quick-thinking, ambitious, unfailingly positive. Judging by the number of quick throws they take, they must spend less time practising line-outs than anyone in the international game. As for their scrum, the subject of much derisive comment when England toured down there in June... well, it has improved out of all recognition in the space of a few weeks. Benn Robinson's return at loose-head prop has made a big difference, and with the hooker Stephen Moore back in business alongside him, they are far more combative in this department. Together with the lock Mark Chisholm, these individuals have brought a different level of physicality to the Wallaby act up front. They were certainly prepared to mix it with the Boks in the loose – never the easiest way of spending an afternoon – and with two or three key forwards still working through their rehabilitation after serious injury, there is surely more to come. The point is this: if the Wallaby pack can provide a reasonably steady supply of decent possession, there is a man in midfield who can maximise its value. I'm not talking of Matt Giteau on this occasion. My man of the moment is Quade Cooper, who has everyone dancing to his tune right now. He's not quite a one-man show – to describe him in those terms would be unfair to a number of other vibrant backs – but the outside-half boasts a skill-set that puts him in the "nightmare" category as far as opposition defences are concerned. He's not the greatest tackler in the world, and this one weakness would render him off-limits in the eyes of many international selectors. But Robbie Deans, the Wallaby coach, prefers to see the good things in his resident maverick, and his decision to persevere with him is beginning to pay very handsome dividends. Cooper is one of those rare instinctive sportsmen who not only have the ability to make the ball talk, but also have a sixth sense when it comes to weighing up a situation in a split second and picturing all the possibilities. He reminds me of a brilliant attacking midfield player in football – one of those Diego Maradona types blessed both with 360-degree vision and the weaponry to make it count. Cooper is impossible to second-guess. What is more, he has the mental toughness that separates the best from the rest. He places great demands on himself, choosing to play right up there in the firing line, where he can see the whites of his opponents' eyes. Even when things go wrong for him, as they occasionally must for someone playing rugby this way, he has the confidence and strength of character to keep doing what he does. It does not occur to him to seek a hiding place, and that makes him special. To my mind, Deans has handled him brilliantly. And remember, Cooper is still relatively inexperienced at Test level. As he closes in on his first World Cup, there will be fewer off-days and an increasing number of sensational ones. In 12 months' time, when it really matters, we'll be counting him among the two or three most dangerous players in the sport. Short and sweet is training mantra I was interested to read the thoughts of the Bath prop David Flatman in his Independent on Sunday column last weekend. He told how the training at Bath had become shorter, sharper and more intense, rarely lasting more than an hour. There is clear value in this. The All Blacks abandoned long, drawn-out sessions years ago, largely because they were utterly irrelevant to rugby as it is played on match day. For too many years, too many coaches have trotted out the same old stuff, keeping their players on the practice pitch "until they get it right". It's nonsense. A game lasts 80 minutes, and when the final whistle goes, that's your lot: no second chances, no having another shot at it, no "getting it right before we go". Training should always reflect match situations. Anything else is pointless. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=52 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=52 Somehow, the sense of anticipation ahead of a new Premiership season is all the more acute when a World Cup is just around the corner. I'm not suggesting for a moment that top-class club rugby does not have a value of its own, but when the major event in the sport is close at hand and we have spent a summer witnessing some tremendous southern hemisphere action, culminating in a truly exceptional Tri-Nations tournament, it is only natural to look at the coming English season from a global perspective. The big players down south – most notably the All Blacks, who are some way ahead of the game at the moment – have demonstrated once again that in rugby, pace plus accuracy equals intensity. The heartening thing from England's point of view was that the last time they played, against Australia in Sydney in June, there was a recognition of this fact. For the first half-hour of that game, there was something genuinely threatening about them. I can only hope and pray that they don't revert to the heads-down, fall-over rugby they had served up in defeat in Perth seven days previously. I've had my criticisms of Premiership fare in the past, but if the tournament picks up from where it left off in May – the Twickenham final between Leicester and Saracens was an exceptional contest, wholly worthy of the occasion – we'll be in for an invigorating few months. I suppose it's difficult to see past last season's top four this time round, with Leicester the team to beat once again, thanks to their physicality, the authority of their front-row play and the match-winning potential of a couple of special talents in Ben Youngs and Geordan Murphy. That being said, I believe Saracens will challenge hard if they keep faith with the dynamic, innovative, challenging brand of rugby they put on show in the second half of last season, and it may be that Northampton will also push hard, although it seems to me that they have fallen between two stools in terms of style, as represented by their contrasting No 10s, Stephen Myler and Shane Geraghty. As for my old club, Bath – well, with Sir Ian McGeechan on the scene, there is at least a possibility that they will jump the last fence in the final straight and win a big race at long last. Harking back to Leicester just for a second, I had to laugh at the reaction of the director of rugby, Richard Cockerill, when the No 8 Jordan Crane went on Twitter to inform whoever reads that stuff that his ankle injury would keep him off rugby for three months. "If he does that again," said Richard in characteristic tones, "I'll break both his ankles." It was a good point, well made. While there was a funny side to the incident, the coach in me says that players have no business making ill- advised, ill-informed pronouncements about their injury status. Next time, Jordan, leave the talking to the medics. Down in New Zealand, all the talking is being done on the field. I've admired some of Australia's rugby this summer – last weekend in Pretoria, their "play to score" mentality made life very uncomfortable for the Springboks – but it is the All Blacks who have set the standard, both in the commanding nature of their performances at home and in the remarkable self-belief they showed in scoring two tries in four minutes at the death to wrap up the series in South Africa. Their ambition and creativity have been standout features for years now and those qualities make me wonder whether anyone from this side of the Equator can match them in terms of pace, decision-making and skill-set. But they also are a couple of levels up from the northern hemisphere in the confrontational aspects of the game. While taking great care to stay on the right side of referees, they generate enormous heat around the tackle area. Some people up here have used the word "candyfloss" of the New Zealanders' free-running style. I think you'll find those who find themselves contesting the loose ball with the All Blacks – backs as well as forwards – disagree. Between 2000 and 2003, years of rapid development for England in the Test arena, Clive Woodward identified half a dozen critical areas in which he felt the team had to lead the world if ultimate success was to be ours, challenging those of us in the coaching team to take bold steps to improve performance under such broad headings as "pace" and "width". Here, in a new decade, it is the All Blacks who have made the significant strides in these crucial parts of the game. The way they have ripped through the Tri-Nations competition may seem a million miles away from how Saracens perform at Twickenham this afternoon or what Leicester do at Northampton tomorrow, but it all connects. If England want to be the ones posing a serious challenge to the New Zealanders this time next year, the top clubs need to play with ambition and clarity now. I've gone back to my coaching roots You may have missed the news, but in my own quiet way I'm making my coaching comeback. Back in early summer, I returned to my roots in the North-west of England and immediately found myself being persuaded by my friend Bill Beaumont to spend a little time on the training field at Fylde, who play in National League Two with the likes of Preston Grasshoppers and Hull Ionians. I was only too pleased to help Mark Nelson, the head coach, in any way he saw fit, and I have to say I'm in my element. In fact, I must be the luckiest coach in the world. For the fourth time in my career, I find myself working with Jason Robinson, a unique talent and true legend of rugby in both codes who has agreed to come out of retirement to play for Fylde while working with youngsters and liaising with businesses in the broader community. Does the old boy still have those dancing feet? Let's put it this way: anyone who fancies their chances of tackling him in a one-on-one situation is welcome to try. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=51 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=51 I am interested to see that a namesake of mine – my surnamesake, to be precise – has been voted Premiership Player of the Year, not least because he operates in a position that rarely gets a show when the glittering prizes are handed out. I share one or two other things with Chris Ashton, the Northampton wing: we come from a similar sporting background, from the same corner of north-west England. It seems to me that he is very much a product of his rugby upbringing and, if he is handled correctly, he could make a considerable impact at international level over the next few years. If I'm honest, I thought Schalk Brits of Saracens would win the big award, for the South African has spent his first season in English rugby redefining the hooker's role. We have occasionally seen his like before: Phil Greening, the highly gifted English front-rower blessed with the skills of an outside centre, was blazing this same trail a decade or so ago. But Brits is the man of the moment as far as footballing tight forwards are concerned and he deserves all the praise he continues to receive. By contrast, a wing like Ashton has only fleeting involvement in proceedings, living as he does on the extremities. Yet he does not fit the mould of the traditional wing, largely because he has brought a rugby league mentality to the union game. The former Great Britain league coach Brian Noble, who worked with Ashton at Wigan, says that while he has the pace and counter-attacking instinct to succeed at the top level, it is his ability to respond to his own team's attacking alignment while deciphering the opposition's defensive organisation that sets him apart. This is quite right. He is an outstanding support runner, who was always going to prosper in a team committed to attacking rugby and containing two or three players capable of creating space. Northampton provided him with precisely this over the course of the season and were rewarded with a try-scoring rate far in excess of any other wing in the country. When I watch Ashton play, my mind drifts back to another wing lured from rugby league: Jason Robinson. They are not peas in a pod, far from it, but the last thing we needed to do with Jason was "unionise" him, and the same goes for Ashton. When I first worked with Jason during his brief stay at Bath – he was still a league professional with Wigan at the time, but he fancied a taste of something different – someone said to me: "I suppose the first thing you'll have to do is sort out his technique in contact." To which I replied: "That's the last thing, actually, because no one ever tackles him." More snippets of Jason. When we first selected him at full-back, we asked the team to assess the potential consequences of the move. There was a deathly silence, broken only when Jason said: "I'll tell you this much: if the opposition kick the ball to me, I'm not going to kick it back." You could see his point. Why do the things your opponents most want you to do? Some time later, during my second spell coaching Bath, one of our international front-rowers came to me before a game against Sale, for whom Jason was then playing, and saying: "I had a terrible night. I dreamt Robinson had the ball, and was running at me in open field." This was the effect he had on people. The moral of these stories is that unique talents need to be nurtured, not coached. During his time at Sale – and, indeed, his time with England – there were points when it looked like Jason might have his wings clipped. To his great credit, he fought the battles and won them. I hope Ashton shows the same determination, although I can't imagine Jim Mallinder, the director of rugby at Northampton, will try to straitjacket him. Like Jason, he is most effective when he has licence to roam the field and pop up in unexpected positions from phase play. His speciality is what I call "blindsiding" the defence, by which I mean appearing as if out of nowhere while the opposition are ball-watching. When he does this late, with his dangerous combination of pace and footwork, he gives people no time to react. Smart coaches will be looking very carefully at the tapes and working out ways of cramping his style next season, and I have no doubt that there will be a dozen plans aimed at stopping him. But it is one thing hatching a plan. Putting it into effect is another thing entirely. As long as he is allowed to play with freedom, to use his instincts to pick the right times and the right places to get involved, he will continue to score tries and win matches. Saracens can spring surprise if they're bold The champions of England will finally emerge at Twickenham this evening and, if you press me for a prediction, I'd have to say that it's difficult to see beyond Leicester, with their big-match experience, their suffocating set piece and their winning mentality. Yet for me, the intrigue surrounds Saracens and their approach to the match. I'm sure they'll attempt to use the ball productively, whatever their position on the field: the boldness of their ambition has paid handsome dividends in recent weeks, so there is no point in taking the conservative approach now. If they are accurate – and accuracy is the key against a side like Leicester – we could see a surprise on a scale that suits the occasion. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=50 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=50 It is now a week since Mike Catt made his farewell appearance in top-flight rugby, yet I still find it difficult to believe he will not be out there on the pitch next season, even though he played at Premiership level, or its equivalent, for the best part of two decades. He has committed himself to a full-time role as a coach, having had a foot in both camps for a while, and I have no hesitation in wishing an old friend and colleague every success – and, hopefully, his fair share of enjoyment – in a job that generates all manner of stress and pressure. I see little point in looking back over Mike's playing career, for there have been numerous eulogies already, including two memorable appraisals from Jeremy Guscott and Will Greenwood, both of whom played alongside him in the England midfield and understood the things he brought to the mix. I must, however, mention that he was one of those rare individuals whose approach to rugby mirrored a couple of truths defined by my great sporting hero, Muhammad Ali: the idea that "he who does not dare to take risks achieves nothing in life"; and the notion that a sportsman should "defy the impossible and shock the world". My interest is in how Mike develops as a coach, because I believe he has the ability to make a mark. In essence, I'd like to see him coach as he played – to stay loyal to his creative instinct. When I worked with him at Bath in the early and mid-1990s, he was one of a group of players who made it their business to be provocative, challenging and bloody-minded in their pursuit of excellence. To put it bluntly, they were all a pain in the arse, and quite deliberately so. It came from their determination not to allow their rugby to stand still, never to be satisfied with the things they achieved. Knowing Mike, I'm sure he'll take this spirit of progressive non-conformity into his full-time coaching role at London Irish. Thank heaven for that. It is all too easy in this professional era for coaches to be bound and restricted by the humdrum routine of week-on-week preparation, so the thought that Mike is precisely the kind of person who will stay true to himself is reassuring. We have already seen encouraging signs that he will attempt to do new and unexpected things, to keep his coaching fresh and invigorating. Early in the season, we saw Steffon Armitage, the London Irish flanker, defending in the outside-half position from scrums and witnessed the two half-backs, Paul Hodgson and Ryan Lamb, switching roles at the tackle area. This smacked of what I call the "SCD mentality" – it stands for Something Completely Different – and I'd be very surprised if Mike wasn't at the heart of it. If anyone can take today's players out of their comfort zones and point them in the direction of the stars, it's him. But how does he ensure that he fulfils his potential in an increasingly homogenised, results-driven environment? I'd make two radical suggestions. First, I'd like to see him get out of the country as fast as he can, family commitments willing. If he spent two or three years in another rugby culture – France, perhaps, or down south in the Super 14 territories, where freedom of expression and exploration is better tolerated – it would surely help him extend an already fertile rugby imagination. Second, and this comes from personal experience, I'd advise him to find a secondary coaching environment that sits alongside his main one. During my days at Bath, I taught in Somerset at King's School, Bruton, and rather unashamedly used the rugby scene there as my laboratory, my testing ground for fresh ideas. If Mike can experiment somewhere, he will benefit greatly. To my mind, he is one of the few ex-professional players who might have the balls to coach the rugby of the future, rather than settle for the rugby of the present or, worse still, fall back on the rugby of the past. How often do we hear the well-worn phrase "if it ain't broke, don't fix it"? Too often, in my view. It is the default position of many in the coaching community and it smacks of safety-first conservatism. I'd hate to see Mike get dragged into that, to see his rugby mind shut down. He should forget all about coaching awards and the suchlike: in the end, they are pieces of paper handed out at the end of a course. Instead, he should concentrate on the new, the different, the unusual. That way, he will make an impact. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=49 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=49 So three more Premiership directors of rugby have lost their jobs or been moved sideways – very much the trend in England these days. Across the water in France, meanwhile, Toulouse have reached yet another Heineken Cup final. And what is the most striking factor in the Toulouse story? Continuity. Thirty years ago, when I visited the club as a young coach and saw the work of Pierre Villepreux and Robert Bru at first hand, it immediately struck me that they were building something of value. Since then, there have been only two head coaches: Jean-Claude Skrela and Guy Noves. It seems to me that they might be on to something over there. Anyone who thinks they can explain the Toulouse phenomenon simply in terms of a large budget and an even larger squad is missing the point completely. By maintaining, with utmost care, the link between generations, they have created an environment in which players fulfil their potential and, by extension, a model for sustainable success. They do not always win, but then, what they do is not always geared towards the next game. What matters to Toulouse is the development of a knowledge-based culture rooted in a consistent approach to the solving of rugby's problems. There are identifiable threads running through their style of rugby. Toulouse sides always create space in a wide variety of ways; they keep the contest dynamic by staying on their feet whenever possible (there is no tolerance of lazy go-to-grounders); they pass early out of the tackle; their support runners always come from depth; they attack space at close quarters with their trademark inter-passing, thereby turning slow ball into something much more threatening. We are talking about a collective mindset here, based on the thorough understanding that comes from a culture of "involved learning", as opposed to "dependent learning". There is far more to playing for Toulouse than turning up and following instructions. This explains why, during last week's Heineken Cup semi-final victory over a dangerous Leinster side, they were able to seize the moment in the way they did. Weather conditions being poor at the start of the match, they did not make the mistake of trying too much too soon: instead, they were physical and confrontational in the forward exchanges, kicked at the appropriate moments and placed great store on their defensive organisation. But when the time was right, they moved up several gears and won the game in the space of a dozen minutes. How did they sense this opportunity for a decisive upping of the pace? There might have been any number of factors: a drying pitch, signs of fatigue among the opposition, the identification of a weak point in Leinster's defensive set-up that was ripe for exploitation. The point is that it was recognised en masse, and it is this that marks the crucial difference between a team that is simply well-drilled and one that is also well-taught and well-coached. This brings me back to game understanding – or, in too many instances, the lack of game understanding. I was speaking to a couple of international cricketers a few days ago, and they share my fear that in professional sport too much specialised attention from coaches inhibits players, stifling freedom of expression. I'm not suggesting that basic skills should be ignored, but there is a gulf between players who possess those skills in isolation and those who also appreciate how they fit into the overall scheme of things, how they might best be integrated for the benefit of the team as a whole. What I love about Toulouse is their ability to go down any route on rugby's A-Z street map, taking the direct approach when available but sometimes cruising the outskirts or taking tiny little side roads as a means of reaching their destination. They are a courageous side physically: believe me, they are well capable of smashing their opponents. But the thing that most distinguishes them is the courage of their philosophy. They ask a huge amount of their players, but give a huge amount in return. When I compare them with some of the clubs nearer home, it does not take me long to work out who has it right. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=48 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=48 Followers of English club rugby may feel disappointed, even alarmed, at the way the European campaign has unfolded, but there is no denying that this weekend's two-nation contest in the Heineken Cup is a fair and accurate reflection of the way things are at the top end of the northern hemisphere game. France and Ireland, Ireland and France. Who, if they are being honest, can dispute that these countries are currently the dominant forces in our corner of the union world? They have arrived here from entirely different directions, having taken totally different paths. The leading French teams have large squads, supported by spectacular amounts of money. There are still some clubs who consider the domestic Top 14 tournament to be their major priority, but increasingly, the real powerhouses of the game on the far side of the Channel define themselves by the Heineken Cup, which, as we saw during last month's wonderful quarter-finals weekend, is a very high level indeed. The Irish, meanwhile, have come at it another way, with the best of their talent signed up on what might be called quasi-central contracts. Their season is specifically geared towards European and international rugby and in player welfare terms they are ahead of the game. The French tend to be reasonably well rested because squad sizes allow coaches the luxury of operating a rotation policy, but there is no substitute for a structured fixture programme of the kind that allows the men of Munster and Leinster to play just the right amount of high-intensity rugby at precisely the right stages of the season. Last year, Ireland completed a Six Nations Grand Slam. This year, France did likewise. And now, each country has an equal split of the Heineken Cup semi-final action. Does success at international level trickle down into the elite club/provincial game, or is it the other way round? It seems to me that in the case of Ireland, where the Test side is predominantly made up of Munstermen and Leinstermen, a bit of both applies. Call it a virtuous circle. Not so long ago, Munster were ferocious, entirely forward- oriented and Garryowen-driven. They are ferocious still – ask Northampton, who had the misfortune to visit Thomond Park in the last eight – but with judicious coaching and clever recruitment from south of the Equator, they have developed a more open- minded and open-ended brand of rugby. Leinster are the flipside. Long celebrated for their uninhibited approach to the attacking game, they now have something more concrete about them up front. To descend into the rugby vernacular for a second, they have found themselves some "dog". I would mention here the contributions of two coaches. Declan Kidney was in charge at Munster before he stepped up to coach the Ireland national side and I'd be very surprised if he wasn't at the very heart of their transformation: indeed, you can see similarities in the way both Munster and Ireland have grown in recent seasons. As for Leinster, it is a sure sign of top-class coaching at work when a side becomes much more difficult to beat while losing nothing of the best of itself in the attacking sense. This is a precise description of Michael Cheika's achievement in Dublin, and when he moves to Stade Franηais in Paris next season, it may well be that they move forward every bit as rapidly. This afternoon's Toulouse-Leinster contest has a special air about it. The two sides famously met in a classic quarter-final four years ago, Toulouse spurning the option of sticking the ball up their jumper in favour of playing the Irishmen at their own free-running game. They lost as a result and some people doubtless thought them daft. But for a great club like Toulouse, the challenge is the thing that matters most. To my mind, there is something admirable about players who have the courage to fail. Biarritz, who meet Munster in tomorrow's tie, do not have a reputation for playing the "beautiful game": when I coached Bath in that same 2006 tournament and we met them in the semi-final, they played not to lose, and didn't. But last month, in their quarter-final with Ospreys, they revealed an adventurous side few of us knew existed and scored some thrilling tries as a result. It seems to me that this mirrors developments in the international environment, where Marc Liθvremont has restored a sense of ambition to the Test side. His predecessor, Bernard Laporte, seemed intent on doing away with the romantic heart of the French game, or at least concealing it beneath an Anglo-Saxon skin. Now, freedom of expression is back in vogue and, as a consequence, we have two fantastic semi-finals in prospect. Bath set to finish with bigger splash I haven't had much to say about my old club Bath over the course of the season, but how could I ignore their outstanding victory over Wasps at Twickenham last weekend? It was great to see them playing with such belief, which manifested itself in their ability to score brilliant tries while their backs were against the wall. Should they beat Leeds in the last round of league games next weekend, they will have to get their heads around a Premiership semi-final with Leicester at Welford Road. With Butch James and Olly Barkley back in harness in midfield and the South African No 8 Luke Watson proving his worth, it is not beyond the realms of possibility that this game will live up to Heineken Cup standards. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=47 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=47 A lot of things were said about Saracens during their long unbeaten run in the Premiership before Christmas, few of them positive or polite. Brendan Venter's team may have picked up results – always important in a results-driven business – but they were roundly criticised for playing a conservative, kick-based game described by some as "anti-rugby". If I was less than thrilled by some of the things I saw from them then, I'm happy to report that I've found their recent change of approach inspiring. It is no easy thing to stage a successful relaunch two-thirds of the way through a season, especially one as fundamental as this. I can do nothing but applaud Brendan in developing a fresh style that is confrontational in many different ways, rather than simply the most obvious way, and I cannot help but wonder how influential Andy Farrell is being behind the scenes. During my time as England coach, I was in no doubt that a fit Andy would make a significant impact: he brought with him from rugby league a fantastic set of skills – you don't play in as many positions with such unfailing success without mastering the full range – and, crucially, an uncommon ability to understand the changing dynamics of a game as it progressed. Add to that his brilliance as a quick-thinking communicator and you can see why I held him in such esteem. It is a great shame that, in the purely physical sense, we saw so little of him at his best. Now, in his coaching role at Saracens, the fitness issues no longer matter. What matters is his rugby brain, his technical expertise and his ability to explain, to guide, to motivate. Like those other league imports, the defence coaches Phil Larder and John Muggleton, he can move the union game on. Larder and Muggleton came into the sport with little or no baggage, and this helped them bring a new perspective to age-old problems. I'll be surprised if Andy doesn't do something similar. Some of the rugby Saracens have played just recently has a strong hint of Farrell about it, based around a changed mindset that has brought the players' wider skill-sets into sharper focus. Examples? For a start, they are playing with more width, and when width is used properly it opens up space and attacking possibilities. There are so many options: the pick-and-go game, the driving game, the short passing game, a whole catalogue of kicking opportunities – so many ways of lulling the opposition defence into false expectations and then penetrating with a sudden change of tack. I've also been impressed by their support running: the way the second wave of runners make themselves available, thereby encouraging the first wave to use their skills and footwork in taking opponents on, secure in the knowledge that there will be options if the tackle is made. In addition, they are well coached in body positioning. We always hear coaches talk of width and depth, but height is also crucial. If a player takes contact at the right body height, the chances are he will win that contact and keep the attack alive. Finally, they are now adept at deciding how many players to send into the tackle area and resetting themselves quickly. This is very definitely a rugby league-style feature of their game. The tackle area is different in league in so far as there is never any need to commit more than two people, but the essence of both games is quick ball and the understanding of what to do next in order to keep it quick. This combination of the right mindset, the right skill levels and right degree of tactical flexibility is the key to "on-field navigation", the game-management awareness that is central to success. This is where Saracens are making great strides, together with their shared decision-making and their ability to keep those wearing the 9, 10 and 12 shirts on their feet and connected – the very thing that so struck me about the Wallabies during their tour here last autumn. Of course, a team needs a good deal of self-belief to play like this. I think we've seen evidence of that this month in Saracens' performances against Gloucester at Kingsholm and Harlequins at Wembley. In the first instance, they showed an ability to counter-attack from deep in their own 22, regardless of the terrible conditions. In the second, we saw them patiently probing for an opening, even though they were achieving very little "go-forward", to use the current jargon, in the forward exchanges. They ran in some terrific tries, largely because they didn't panic. I found myself thinking of a strike by the All Blacks late in a Test match against Ireland a few seasons back in which they went through four phases in the build-up, each of which was further back down the field than the last. I remember the commentator saying: "Great defence... great defence... oh, Nonu's scored." Leeds unlocked a real talent in Key Without wishing to tempt fate ahead of their big game with Worcester tomorrow, it's good to see Leeds come up into the Premiership and make a better fist of things than most anticipated. They have been highly committed and well organised, so congratulations to Neil Back and Andy Key, the coaches at the heart of a tremendous effort. Of the two, Neil is by far the bigger name, but Andy is an outstanding operator and it makes me wonder how many other bright young English coaches might be lurking outside the top division. In these financially hard times, one or two clubs might think it worth taking a look. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=46 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=46 Innovative thinking. Now, there's a thought. Just recently, I found myself making a presentation on this subject to a leading business services company who had achieved a significant degree of success but were fearful of spending too long on a plateau and wanted to investigate ways of upping their game and taking things to the next stage. Delegates found themselves involved in some interesting exercises: at one point, they were set the task of persuading a sceptical audience that surfing, sumo wrestling, tug-of-war and darts could and should be granted Olympic status. The challenge was to take an idea widely perceived as pie in the sky, assimilate it in a short space of time and somehow make it convincing. As I watched the unfolding of last weekend's compelling Heineken Cup quarter-finals – which, I have to say, produced such wonderful entertainment that it was difficult not to place the tournament above the Six Nations as the best showcase for the sport in the northern hemisphere – certain parallels struck me. There is no substitute, either in rugby or in business, for a sound operational base: without it, there is no realistic possibility of raising performance levels in a sustained manner. But the thing that separates the truly successful sides, like Toulouse and Munster, from the merely ambitious is the way they use those foundations to launch something above and beyond the norm. Technique, physical conditioning, game understanding: these are the basic components, and the more developed the basics, the higher the level of performance and the higher the potential. That is both a simple rugby equation and an unchallengeable sporting truth. A second truth was evident at the weekend. We spoke last week about the mindset of the away teams and the importance of them putting their own stamp on things from the outset, and while I have a small question mark against Northampton, who did not take the game to Munster in the way I thought they might, Clermont Auvergne, Ospreys and Stade Franηais all asked very serious things of their hosts before bowing out of the competition, the first two by a single point. Their performances reminded us that in the elite environment, teams have to find a way of raising the ceiling of operational performance. It is not good enough to be satisfied at reaching the usual limits, because in knock-out rugby of the magnitude we have just witnessed, a team sitting back quickly becomes a team overtaken. To be a Toulouse or a Munster, it is essential to have a set of foundations and a framework so strong that you can move into a performance area where the consistent winning of big games becomes the norm. Good sides know how to find their optimal cruising speed. The best sides know how to move beyond it. There were a number of factors shared by those teams making it through to next month's semi-finals. They showed an ability to move through the gears, raising and lowering the tempo at will; they were prepared to attempt the unexpected – witness the astonishing try by the Biarritz wing Takudzwa Ngwenya direct from a turnover near his own line – and were always seeking ways of changing the nature of the contest, like Kevin Pietersen in cricket. Add to this certain individuals' ability to restore order from chaos by quickly finding their way back to first principles and then moving the game on once more in a new and challenging way, and you see the value of giving them the freedom to interpret a match as it unfolds, rather than straitjacketing them with a pre-ordained approach. Dimitri Yachvili of Biarritz, Byron Kelleher and Yannick Jauzion of Toulouse, Tomas O'Leary and Ronan O'Gara of Munster ... here were well-equipped, intelligently-coached players who understood how to make a difference and were licensed to do so. Very few teams can commit to a truly innovative brand of rugby and play it at high pace without compromising technical excellence, but those in that happy minority – Toulouse have been there for as long as I can remember – spend less time than anyone thinking about winning. For them, winning just happens. It is this that defines them. Many sides who achieve high standards of technique and conditioning make the mistake of believing that nothing more is needed. The Heineken Cup proves that those who think that way are the ones who find themselves being shot down. Why Danny is a perfect 10 Danny Cipriani is back in the news, although I am not sure he's ever out of it these days. His eye-catching display in last weekend's Amlin Challenge Cup tie between Wasps and Gloucester set tongues wagging once again and the more top-notch performances he turns in as the spring sunshine grows warmer and the going gets faster, the more will be written about his impending move to Australia and its potential consequences. All I would say is that Danny embodies all the virtues I've been discussing this week. Here is a player with technical skill, good physical conditioning – the fact that he works with the renowned sprint coach Margot Wells tells you all you need to know about his fitness – and an intuitive level of game understanding. Innovation? The ability to change the tempo of a game? The confidence to attempt the unexpected? A love of freedom? A hell of a lot has been said about Danny over the last couple of years, but in essence, that little list gets to the heart of the matter. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=45 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=45 The last time I was involved in a major European club occasion, I took Bath to San Sebastian for a Heineken Cup semi-final with Biarritz. We travelled with bags of expectation, but fell short. There were reasons, looking back: at that point in 2006, Bath were on a transitional shift from the extremely limited style of rugby they had played over the previous three or four years to something more ambitious. But the fact remains that when it came to the crunch, we – and I include myself in this – failed to summon the courage to play the kind of challenging game required to win a match of that magnitude. Nothing has changed. Now rugby has reached the knockout stage of this season's Heineken Cup – the "real deal" time of the season, where there are no second chances – it strikes me that many leading sides still talk about playing challenging rugby in the days leading up to a game, and still find reasons not to do it once they find themselves on the field. The question that interests me is this: to what extent is the gap between intention and delivery determined by what happens in the days before the match? Here, in no particular order, are some of the forces at work as coaches and players prepare for the big occasion. Firstly, there is the overview of the game. Is a team looking at the contest as an exercise in collision, or an exercise in evasion? If it's the former, there is every chance that whatever they attempt to do on the day, the game will turn into a dogfight. Secondly, is there an assumption that a softening-up period lasting 15 or 20 minutes, or maybe longer, is inevitable? If that's the view, how prepared will a team be to take the scoring chance that presents itself in the opening 60 seconds? When you consider that this may be the last opportunity they get, it's a crucial issue. Thirdly, how is the importance of the game impacting on the collective mindset? Does the scale of the contest edge coaches and players towards a "no-risk" approach? You must know my views on this by now: if a coach is doing his job properly, risk doesn't exist. Still, it is a common reaction when the heat comes on at the back end of a major tournament. Fourthly, to what extent is the venue a factor on a team's thinking? Northampton take on Munster at Thomond Park this evening, and there's no doubting that it's a tough place to visit. Dylan Hartley, the Northampton captain, insisted this week that the stadium held no fears for his players, but how many teams down the years have failed to reconcile that kind of sentiment with the reality of the situation once they take the field? To my mind, sides who restrict themselves to playing a style of rugby with which they are wholly comfortable are unlikely to travel to a place like Limerick and go in with all guns blazing. To win there, and at places like it, you have to be prepared to leave your comfort zone and stretch yourself. Finally, how much analysis of the opposition is going on? The balance between a team working out ways of stopping the other side and thinking of the things they need to do to win the game is very fine and frequently misjudged. It is incredibly easy to overcook the first aspect and leave the second underdone, thereby ensuring that players go into the game with an unnecessarily negative mindset. There is a good deal of food for thought there, I'm sure you'll agree, and we haven't even set foot on the pitch yet! I'll be interested to see if the away quarter-finalists – Northampton, Ospreys, who make the familiar trip to San Sebastian, and Stade Franηais, who must play in Toulouse – find it in themselves to put their own stamp on proceedings, rather than seek to soak up pressure and defuse their hosts' attacking game. How can this be done? For a start, I'd like to see the visiting sides show a willingness to play off turnover ball, wherever they might secure it, and run back a few opposition kicks. I'd like to see them raise the tempo by opting for quick free-kicks and tap-and-go penalties. Back in 2001, when England were behind against France, I remember Matt Dawson tapping the ball to himself on halfway pretty much against instructions that had just been delivered at the interval. A couple of passes from Phil Greening and Austin Healey later, Richard Hill was touching down for a try. We had taken the lead for the first time, and never relinquished it. I'd also like to see teams countering pressure with pressure. All eight quarter-finalists will find themselves under the cosh at some point, and most will react by clearing the ball any old how, taking in a few gulps of air and thinking, "Thank God for that." But there is another way, as Austin famously demonstrated while playing for England in South Africa in 2000. On that occasion, he ended a long period of heroic defence by tapping and going from close to our line, much to the horror of everyone in the camp. A few seconds later, Tim Stimpson scored. Admittedly, his perfectly good try was ruled out by the video ref. Still, you get my point. When the going really gets tough, those players with their creative heads on are the ones who will make the difference. In rugby, as in many walks of life, expectation fuels belief, which fuels reality. The right kind of thinking becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, and that is a thing of value with the stakes as high as they are now. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=44 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=44 After wrapping myself up in rugby union for so much of my life, I've spent a good deal of time over the last 18 months or so working alongside a wide range of specialist support staff – coaches, medics, psychologists – from a variety of sports, some of them involved at grass-roots level and others operating in the highest echelons of elite performance. It has been a pleasure, a privilege and, in many respects, an eye-opener. What has struck me most forcibly? The fact that many of the key issues I've identified concerning the relationship between coaches and players in rugby are to be found across the spectrum. The topics at the forefront of my discussions have been twofold: how do we encourage players to assume responsibility for their own actions in the competitive arena, and how do we underpin this by developing their game understanding? These points lead to a more profound debate about the nature of professionalism and its apparent blurring of the boundaries of player-coach relations. Do we really want our team games to be controlled ever more tightly by coaches and their so-called "playbooks", or do we want our players to be granted the freedom to follow their instincts? If the answer is the latter, are we coaching those instincts into oblivion? Let me put my cards on the table once again. While I understand and agree with the concept of the supportive coaching environment and believe in the importance of value-added guidance, it is obvious to me that, in the final analysis, sporting success hinges on individual players' response to what I call "stand-alone moments": those crucial points in a game where they must think clearly and act decisively without help. If there is a point to coaching, surely it is to develop a player's sense of self-sufficiency and his ability to act independently, rather than spoon-feeding him information and turning him into something akin to a robot. Last year, I found myself on a coaching course alongside Christian Cullen, the All Black full-back who, to my mind at least, ranks high among the finest counter-attacking players ever seen in the union game. I remember him being very nervous about making a presentation on the very subject of the counter-attack. "I don't know where to start," he said. "The things I did were completely instinctive." In the end, he insisted that we all went outside for an on-field demonstration. It frightened the rest of us to death, I can tell you. It set me thinking about the philosophy of street games. That's right, the games kids used to play in the streets here – the games of beach football still played by youngsters in Brazil, the games of rubbish-tip cricket played by thousands of children in India. It seems to me that in the modern world of technologically advanced, science-based coaching, the occasional return to something much more basic, yet in some ways far more challenging, might have some merit. Now, I don't want to give an old Northerner's lecture along the lines of "when I were a lad", but you know the kind of thing I mean: you picked two teams, made up your own rules, decided on the size and shape of the playing area, refereed the game among yourselves and generally got on with it. There were certainly no coaches and, in their absence, you developed a style that suited you and helped you survive, thrive and, if you were good enough, prevail. Of course, I can hear today's coaches saying: "Wait a minute. This is precisely the kind of thing that encourages bad habits and poor technique." But while I accept that there are certain technical fundamentals in all sporting endeavour, I don't buy the idea that there's any such thing as "classical technique". I still have some footage of a try England put past Wales when I was involved back in 2001. Every member of the back line handled the ball and there were six passes from start to Will Greenwood's finish, all of them different. Each was delivered quickly, accurately and at the right moment, but were they out of the coaching textbook? Not to my eye. Street game theory, if you want to give it a grand title, encourages awareness, discipline and leadership. The immediacy of it places a high value on adaptability, and there is also a premium on playing by the rules: I grew up learning about rugby and cricket in the street and it quickly became obvious to all those involved that if everyone was going to stand offside all day, or wouldn't walk when they were out, there was no point bothering. Taking everything into consideration, are there many better ways of instilling the basic qualities required for success, whatever the level? If we really want our players to embrace creativity, shouldn't we encourage those coaching mini- rugby teams to do away with the cones, bibs, tackle shields and all the rest of the paraphernalia once in a while and say: "Right, here's a ball and here's a patch of grass. Let's see what you make of it." Come to think of it, shouldn't Premiership coaches say something similar every now and again? I'm not holding my breath: it's not in the nature of most coaches to step away and let the players do their own thing occasionally. But if we're genuinely interested in removing some of the baggage that weighs down so many of our top professionals, why not think outside the box and experiment a little? It might work wonders and, who knows, the players may enjoy it. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=43 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=43 While the Six Nations Championship is done and dusted for another year, done to death in some quarters, one certain aspect of the last weekend is well worth noting. I have long advocated the importance of individuals contributing to the strength and positivity of a squad and a dressing room, and I consider the return of Mike Tindall to England's midfield to be a classic example. Tindall is both an outstanding player and an outstanding individual, whose positive attitude to life and those around him is inspirational. He has the character and personality to transform a team, and the ability to coax the best out of young players with talent and the ambition to play at the highest level. You can rest assured that Ben Foden and Chris Ashton were the better for Tindall's presence in the lashing rain and toweringly tense atmosphere of Stade de France on Saturday night. No surprise to learn that it was Tindall who put an arm around young Ashton afterwards and calmed him down when the Northampton wing admitted he feared his first cap would be his last after failing to make the best of two try-scoring opportunities. It was wretched ill fortune that Tindall missed the 2007 World Cup because of a broken leg but, as with so many top-class players, injuries impact on careers. So seeing him back in harness for England at a time when young bloods are surfacing and getting their opportunities, is a very positive element for the national game. Tindall, who is often regarded as one-dimensional, has an ability to read the game in the wider channels and has shrewd awareness of space that makes him a tremendous asset to any team. So, with France claiming their third Grand Slam in eight years, the Six Nations ended on 20 March, creating the possibility that anticlimax would be the inevitable progression. Not so. On 21 March Northampton beat Gloucester in the LV= Cup final, staged at Worcester's Sixways Stadium, and an excellent advertisement for positive, attacking club rugby. Northampton, under the guidance of their forward-looking coaching triumvirate Jim Mallinder, Dorian West and Paul Grayson, lifted the trophy despite the fact that Dylan Hartley, Foden and Ashton were with the England squad. They edged out a rejuvenated Gloucester in a cracking spectacle – and I wonder what the chances are of us seeing the same when the Guinness Premiership returns this weekend. Mind you, there was an entertainment of sorts after the Six Nations as the rumour mill went into overdrive, and the inevitable criticism was delivered from various quarters, particular the really brave unnamed "sources", hiding behind their parapets and enjoying their 15 minutes of dubious fame. Where would our game be without our unnamed "sources"? Discuss I then attended the National School Sevens at Rosslyn Park, turning the clock back to my schoolteaching days, and was delighted to watch boys from Under-13s upwards displaying good techniques, intelligent decision-making and maintaining the tempo in the demanding Sevens arena. Full marks to the players and to their teaching staff because it was a hugely encouraging and enjoyable experience. And it got me thinking as I drove home. We'll see Sevens rugby introduced into the 2016 Olympic Games, and I wonder how many young players will accept the opportunity to go down the professional Sevens road as opposed to playing the XV-a-side game? The modern specialised professional Sevens game takes players to exotic venues and will soon offer them the opportunity of competing for Olympic gold. They could bypass altogether the more physically draining full version of rugby union, something we see happening a lot in New Zealand, Australia and South Africa, where the majority of their Sevens international players do not figure in the regular Test squads. The unfettered freedom you see in abundance displayed by young players in Sevens is exhilarating. Compare that with the more complicated XVs game, where the more structured, science-based coaching now tends to dominate. How much would that environment affect the freedom enjoyed by these players? How much would it inhibit that freedom from remaining and flourishing as their game develops? It is always both exciting and enjoyable to watch talent blossoming unheeded, to see young players revelling in the sheer joy of their game. Sevens offers far more opportunity for that degree of self-expression to thrive. Keep up to date with Brian's thoughts every Saturday - www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=42 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=42 Two teams, France and Ireland, are chasing the glittering prizes of the Six Nations today: a Grand Slam in the first case, a Triple Crown in the second. On the whole, I think this is a fair reflection of the tournament: they have been more dynamic than their rivals in executing their attacking skills under pressure and seizing the opportunities in front of them. As I will seek to explain, this indicates the presence of a particular mindset that distinguishes the achievers from the strivers. While the French have been opening up defences from pretty well everywhere on the field, the Irish have not created opportunities in anything like the same volume. Yet if they did not win a great deal of possession in their match with England and found themselves struggling with what might be called a territory deficit against Wales, their strike rate has been formidable. For all their differences the two sides have something in common, summed up by the phrase "play to score mentality". It may seem entirely logical that a team should "play to score" whenever they have the ball, but believe me, this is not always a key principle of rugby, even at professional level. Some teams consciously set out to "play through the phases", which is a different approach entirely. On the one hand, you have people attacking space rather than "setting a target" – people who, firstly, do not deliberately seek contact, and, secondly, have a mindset geared towards ensuring continuity by playing the ball quickly should a tackle be made. On the other hand, you have people moving from contact situation to contact situation in the hope of wearing down a defence rather than breaking through or finding a way round it. Of course, I fully appreciate that tackle situations occur, that they cause trouble for the side in possession when defenders are hell-bent on slowing down the recycling of the ball, and that the best teams have considerable expertise in finding a way to deal with it. But during my time in coaching I've seen a lot of sides spend hours practising their "slow-ball options", and it seems to me that this breeds "slow-ball expectations". I would far rather see players take the field with a more positive attitude. "We will play with quick ball" sounds about right as an attacking mantra. Mindset drives performance. I've been saying this for years and I'm more certain of this now than I've ever been. Ireland's ability to make clean breaks three or four times a game and the French team's ability to free four or five runners with one perfectly timed run from depth, often from the outstanding full-back Clιment Poitrenaud, are two sides of the same coin. What these teams share is a high level of expectancy – they assume that a colleague will stay on his feet in a tackle rather than hit the deck automatically – allied to outstanding technique. To play this kind of rugby, you need players who are not only wholly comfortable fulfilling the primary functions of their position but capable of bringing added value. There are three elements to this. To begin with, their technical skills must be sufficiently sound not to break down under pressure. Then there is the collective understanding of, this sounds so simple, "the best thing to do". Obvious, you may say, and I agree. But will players raised on repetitive coaching drills ever form this understanding to the necessary degree? I don't think so. French training has always been game-based rather than drill-based and this tells a tale. Thirdly – and this is extremely important – the truly positive team needs as many players as possible who can perform the basic duties of the scrum-half and the first receiver and, preferably, approximate the skill of the open-side flanker in winning the ball on the floor. If you have several people capable of doing all this, the chances of keeping a high tempo and leaving the opposition floundering are much higher than if everyone in the side is completely position-specific. During my time with England, the endlessly versatile Austin Healey was hugely valuable in this regard. I would point to Brian O'Driscoll, the marvellous Ireland centre, as another example, particularly of someone who can play as a second No 7: leaving aside Richie McCaw of New Zealand, is there a better player in the world, specialist flanker or not, when it comes to turning over possession in the wide channels? As for the French, they generally have plenty of players capable of multitasking. All-round footballing skill is rooted deep in their culture and it is reflected in the way they train, from the under-sevens up. This mindset, supported by the correct skill-set, enables teams to play at maximum speed without compromising technique. To put it more grandly but no less accurately, it allows them to impose order on chaos. All kinds of things become possible: counter-attacking from restarts, from clearance kicks, from turnovers, from opposition knock-ons. This is the essence of the "play to score" mentality. Whether or not they win another Grand Slam tonight, the French have come closest to achieving this over the course of the competition. Individually and collectively, they have combined a high work rate with a challenging approach that has helped them identify, communicate and execute scoring opportunities. More than most northern hemisphere nations, they prepare to play rugby by playing rugby. I wonder if that has anything to do with it? http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=41 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=41 Two rounds left, three teams – France, England, Ireland – still in contention, the prospect of more close finishes, passionate second-half fightbacks and the occasional passage of outstanding attacking rugby: the Six Nations Championship is justifying its place at the heart of the northern hemisphere season, even if the best of it must be weighed against some edgy, error-strewn fare from everyone involved. How do I expect things to turn out? At this stage, it's difficult to see past the French as the side to beat. Last month, just before the first round of matches, I expressed a particular interest in the various centre partnerships, because it seemed that if there were to be any signs of an expanding mindset in the European game, these were the people most likely to be responsible. Who would have the wit, the confidence and the courage to ask different questions of defences by shifting the first point of attack to the No 13 channel? We've seen flashes of inspiration from a number of midfield players. Gordon D'Arcy and Brian O'Driscoll of Ireland have had their moments, albeit individually rather than in partnership. Gonzalo Canale, the Italian centre, made the decisive play in his team's victory over Scotland, while James Hook of Wales has demonstrated genuine footballing ability, frequently when his team have found themselves miles behind and in dire need of a spark. Two rounds left, three teams – France, England, Ireland – still in contention, the prospect of more close finishes, passionate second-half fightbacks and the occasional passage of outstanding attacking rugby: the Six Nations Championship is justifying its place at the heart of the northern hemisphere season, even if the best of it must be weighed against some edgy, error-strewn fare from everyone involved. How do I expect things to turn out? At this stage, it's difficult to see past the French as the side to beat. Last month, just before the first round of matches, I expressed a particular interest in the various centre partnerships, because it seemed that if there were to be any signs of an expanding mindset in the European game, these were the people most likely to be responsible. Who would have the wit, the confidence and the courage to ask different questions of defences by shifting the first point of attack to the No 13 channel? We've seen flashes of inspiration from a number of midfield players. Gordon D'Arcy and Brian O'Driscoll of Ireland have had their moments, albeit individually rather than in partnership. Gonzalo Canale, the Italian centre, made the decisive play in his team's victory over Scotland, while James Hook of Wales has demonstrated genuine footballing ability, frequently when his team have found themselves miles behind and in dire need of a spark. To catch all Brians thoughts every Saturday go to www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=40 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=40 Not for the first time this season, I find myself thinking about some of the language commonly used by managers, coaches and players in today's game. I've already had my say about some of the jargon I find exasperating – "drill", "breakdown", "ball-carrier", "going through the phases" – and after last weekend's round of Six Nations matches, I was left trying to make sense of another phrase. Martin Johnson, the England manager, said he thought his side had "played too much rugby" at certain times against Ireland. What did this mean, precisely? From my perspective, I can only think Martin meant "too much ineffective rugby". At least, I hope this is what he meant. If players move the ball through the hands deep in their own 22, open up space for a runner coming on to the ball at the optimum angle and touch down for a try at the other end, it's difficult to imagine anyone applying the words "too much rugby" to what they've just seen. Rugby is rugby, and in a case like this, the amount of rugby played would be just right. The distinction we must make is between rugby that works, and rugby that doesn't work. As I've been saying for God knows how many years, it is possible to move the ball effectively from any area of the field, provided the players involved make the right decisions based on the situation facing them and execute their skills properly. A coach might feel like kicking the cat if his players do the wrong things at the wrong times for the wrong reasons, but if he sends a team on to the field with the instruction that the ball is not to be moved in the 22 irrespective of the circumstances... well, that's very different, because we're then talking about rigid adherence to a "game plan", another phrase that makes me deeply suspicious. We are not talking rugby here; we are talking anti-rugby. Imprecise language can send out mixed messages, but not as mixed as some of the stuff emerging from Wales over the last few days. For some time now, the coach, Warren Gatland, has been extolling the virtues of the kicking game, pointing out that the sides who kick the most – he has frequently cited his native New Zealand – are the ones winning the matches. Yet after their defeat by France, another contest in which they conceded a big lead before turning things round with some imaginative, attacking rugby, the full-back Lee Byrne could be heard arguing that Wales would do far better to move the ball earlier in an effort to impose their own tempo on the opposition. What is really needed, of course, is flexible thinking from players willing and able to adapt in the face of prevailing circumstances. Is there any point in simply saying that a side should kick the ball more often? Not to my mind, there isn't. The art of kicking lies in the when, the where, the how and, most importantly, the why. Watch the All Blacks closely and you'll see the truth of this. Yes, they kick to relieve pressure, but they do it so smartly, so intelligently, that they often transfer that pressure to their opponents as a result. I don't suppose I'm particularly associated with the kicking game, but I can promise you that I've never underestimated its importance. Remember, I come from rugby league land, and in that code a significant number of tries are scored direct from precise, cleverly thought out attacking kicks. During my first spell with England, I spent a good deal of time working with Dave Alred, the specialist kicking coach. He was in the forefront of developing the idea of the kick as the "forward pass" and I remember us using Ben Cohen, a tall and powerfully athletic wing, to great effect in this regard. Jonny Wilkinson, always able to put the ball on a sixpence, would kick high for Ben on the diagonal, forcing the opposition defence to respond in ways that fractured them elsewhere. It was a tremendous weapon for us. The best teams kick as well as handle, but they always kick with a purpose. They never kick because they can't think of anything better to do with the ball. I've spoken before of my admiration for the Springbok scrum-half Fourie du Preez, so it should come as no surprise that I hold him up as an example of a player who plays as intelligently with the boot as he does with his hands. More than once, I've seen him kick diagonally straight from a free-kick to create a try for Bryan Habana – something that shows great vision and immediacy of thought as well as a mastery of technique. Earlier this season, I saw the Toulouse scrum-half Jean-Baptiste Elissalde do something similar from a ruck, with Vincent Clerc touching down. South Africa? Toulouse? These are among the world's most successful sides. Why? Because they fill their teams with players who do things for a reason rather than simply hit and hope. Sexton hits the ground running on fast track Jonathan Sexton. There's a name to remember. I was particularly impressed by the new Ireland outside-half's performance against England at Twickenham last weekend. He played in an unassuming, quietly authoritative manner – no fuss and bother, no histrionics – and with a clarity that gave the visitors a threatening air. The film inside his head seemed to be running on fast-forward, such was his ability to see the shape of things ahead of him and sense what would happen next. He was not fazed by playing alongside such luminaries as Gordon D'Arcy and Brian O'Driscoll. Quite the opposite, in fact. This, it seems to me, was one of the reasons why Declan Kidney, the Ireland coach, was happy to pick so inexperienced a No 10 ahead of Ronan O'Gara, who has won caps and kicked points in such quantities. Some people put the selection in the high-risk category, but Declan had seen enough of Sexton, both in training and in a Leinster shirt, to be sure of his ground. It may have been a bold move, and was certainly an exciting one. But risky? I don't think so. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=39 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=39 I am not a person who needs much of an excuse to watch Super 14 rugby, or to return to my northern roots by casting an eye over the latest happenings in top-class rugby league, so I did not exactly struggle to fill my time during last weekend's break from Six Nations activity. The Super 14 broadcasts were of particular interest in light of Danny Cipriani's decision to head Down Under at the end of the season, and to judge by some of the imaginative, free-flowing stuff currently being played in the southern hemisphere, I'm quite happy to predict that he'll revel in his new surroundings. Super 14 has had a bad press up here in Britain – the critics see it as a form of rugby candyfloss invented by, and played for, television – while the more die-hard union followers have dismissed league as too simplistic and predictable to be truly satisfying. I disagree on both counts: in fact, I think these barbs demonstrate a fundamental misunderstanding of the demands placed on those who play these dynamic brands of rugby. Much has been said about the extraordinary 65-72 scoreline in the Lions-Chiefs game in Johannesburg and the statistics were certainly startling: 18 tries in a single match – more tries than 40 per cent of the Guinness Premiership clubs have managed all season. I'm not suggesting that tries by the dozen automatically equate to entertainment or that heavy scoring and good rugby are one and the same thing. I've argued the precise opposite in this column in the past, and last weekend's game at Ellis Park was as notable for its lack of committed defending as it was for anything else. But I also have to say that, over the course of this European season, I've been thoroughly cheesed off by the continuous stream of coaches, administrators, player and media pundits claiming that it's impossible to play rugby under the current laws in force at the tackle area. With the right mentality, rugby can be played under any set of laws you care to name. The high level of invention and creativity frequently seen in both Super 14 and Super League proves as much. If entertainment is part and parcel of professional sport – and I don't see that there's much of a case to be made against the proposition – here are two tournaments that seem to have their priorities right. While we're on this subject, whatever happened to the prophets of doom who, at the start of the Six Nations, said that because of the refereeing it would be "impossible for teams to do this" and "too difficult for them to do that"? The Wales-Scotland and France-Ireland matches in the last round told a very different story. If I can find myself some shares in the rugby bandwagon business, I think I'll buy them. It's one of the few growth industries we have left. There were several themes common to both Super 14 and Super League. Both had players showing bold and creative footwork on the ball and an ability to open up space for others; both featured a high level of reciprocal understanding among support runners; both were impressive in the quality of their second-wave attacking; both demonstrated just how effective an intelligent kicking game can be. A number of tries were scored from well-directed, well thought-out kicks. In comparison with the Premiership, there were very few examples of players putting boot to ball aimlessly, or in a fit of panic. Here were people staying on their feet, keeping the ball off the ground and constantly switching the focus of attack, all of which called into question one of the myths of coaching: that attacking rugby of this quality is necessarily a high-risk venture. To my mind, that is as lazy a view as it is negative. Individuals armed with good core skills and blessed with the right mindset are not taking risks: instead, they are playing what they see in a confident, challenging fashion. If you doubt that, just watch the way some of the Super 14 players attack, flooding into dangerous areas of the field in the expectation of a tackle being broken. Sometimes, it seems to me that Premiership players freeze with shock when one of their colleagues beats an opponent. If we could just change our mentality here, we might see more "value-added" players coming to the fore: players who not only fulfil their primary roles but bring something extra, something different to the mix. The two Saturday games in the last round of Six Nations matches showed what can be done if the game is approached in a spirit of optimism and adventure. Let's hope this weekend's matches reinforce the point. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=38 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=38 When you reach my age – let's say I'm past my three score years and leave it at that – you don't expect too many new experiences to come your way, but I achieved a first in Rome, one of my favourite cities, last weekend. Never before had I watched England play live away from home without being directly involved in the coaching set-up, and to find myself doing so at Stadio Flaminio, a very old haunt of mine, was quite an irony. Encouraged by my good friend Dick Greenwood, the England back-row forward, I travelled to Italy for a spell of club rugby in the mid-1970s, cutting my coaching teeth there with the help of two of the game's great visionaries, Carwyn James and Pierre Villepreux, both of whom were living and working in the country. During my first season, Stadio Flaminio was my home ground. There wasn't quite so much of a crowd then as there was on Sunday: indeed, I can remember a very bored, four-year-old Will Greenwood making a racket in the empty stands on match days while I was playing scrum-half alongside his dad. It's true to say that travelling as a spectator is somewhat different to travelling as a member of the England party. There was a long delay at the airport, so instead of arriving in Rome at a reasonable hour to find a bottle of Amarone and a bowl of fettuccine awaiting me, I touched down late and found myself running straight into Mark Regan, until quite recently the England hooker, in an Irish bar. Mark was in characteristically boisterous mood and decided I was in urgent need of a pint of Guinness and a plate of chips. Inevitably, he ate most of the chips himself. Still, I would never accuse him of not having his heart in the right place. The match was hardly electrifying – its shortcomings have been well documented – but the things I saw from my seat high up in the gods set me thinking about Italian rugby and its trials and tribulations in recent years. When I was playing and coaching there between 1976 and 1980, the game was in rude health; indeed, the national team ran something approaching a full-strength All Blacks side pretty close in Padova in 1978. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising, given the incisive input of Carwyn and Pierre. A little later, players of the calibre of David Campese and Michael Lynagh took to playing there, and like the two coaches, they immersed themselves in the Italian mentality and in its culture. None of these people said: "Right, this is how we do it in Wales, or France, or Australia." They recognised the vibrant mix of uncompromising toughness, passion and ιlan at the heart of Italian rugby – a mix defined by the brilliant Francescato brothers, three of whom were playing for the national team at the time – and embraced it. Sadly, this spirit has been lost: largely because of the direction in which professionalism has driven the sport. There are too many overseas players, few better than third-rate and many of them sixth-rate, playing for the leading clubs, and as a result, young Italians with potential are given too few opportunities. In addition, a shortage of money has driven the proven home-grown talent abroad, some to England and many more to France. There is a burning need for the Italian game to rediscover the virtues on which it was traditionally based: a highly physical approach shot through with footballing ambition. Instead, it is dominated by southern hemisphere imports playing a form of rugby unsuited to the Italian temperament. How can this be achieved, given the way the sport is currently structured, both competitively and financially? I have no easy answers. All I know is that last weekend, I ran into old team-mates from 30-odd years ago who, like tens of thousands of other deeply passionate Azzurri supporters, were unhappy with what they'd seen. It is one thing to lose to England by five points. It is quite another for a rugby nation to lose the best of itself. Lapses for which you might kick yourself Last week, I talked about the wrong-headedness of the "no 'I' in teams" theory of coaching, arguing that the way a game of rugby develops is always dictated by individual decision-making. There were two classic examples of this in last weekend's Six Nations matches: the extraordinary incident involving the Ireland hooker Jerry Flannery, which seemed to lift an already highly motivated and committed French team to a new level, and Mike Blair's bizarre restart at the end of the Wales-Scotland game. I've never seen anything like Flannery's huge swipe at Alexis Palisson, the French wing – not even in a playground, let alone on a rugby field – and he was fortunate to escape with a six-week ban. As for Blair's failure to end the match at the Millennium Stadium by drop-kicking the ball out of play, thereby ensuring that his side would leave Cardiff with a draw... if I'm honest, I cannot even begin to understand his thinking. Scotland were down to 13 men and exhausted, mentally as much as physically after seeing things turn horribly against them in the last 10 minutes. Blair may not be a regular kicker, or even an occasional one, but he is a scrum-half and, in modern rugby, scrum-halves are frequently the ones most involved in running down the clock to their team's advantage. His decision to kick the ball straight, and rather short, which allowed the Welsh to launch a last attack, was odd to say the least. One other thought occurs to me: if Blair had kicked the ball as hard as Flannery kicked the unfortunate Palisson, it would have ended up in the umpteenth row of the stand irrespective of the direction, and Scotland would have returned home with something to show for their efforts! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=37 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=37 "There is no 'I' in 'teams'." Most of us who have been involved in coaching or management for any length of time are familiar with this well-worn phrase, which, given the frequency with which it is heard, might more accurately be called a mantra. Like many snippets of home-spun sporting philosophy, it attempts to capture the essence of a basic truth: in this case, that the significance of the individual in a team game is as nothing compared to the importance of the collective. And like many of these one-liners, it misses the point. Just ask Warren Gatland about the influence of individuals, their thought processes and their decision-making. I'd be very interested to know the Wales coach's private view on Alun Wyn Jones and his visit to the sin bin during last week's Six Nations scrap with England (although I can probably work it out for myself). And what about the interception pass thrown by Stephen Jones towards the end of the match? If these individual contributions were not absolutely central to the outcome of the contest, I was watching a different game to everyone else. Here were prime examples of what I call the "critical moment theory" of top-level sport – instances of unpredictable and confused thinking by individuals operating in a high- pressure environment. And what is it that makes a rugby team? Fifteen individuals, all of whom are likely, at some stage or other, to find themselves making split-second calls in dynamic situations that, by their very nature, defy pre-planning. If one or two of those calls happen to be wrong, the balance tips towards the opposition, as Wales demonstrated. I am deeply perplexed by this idea that individuals don't count. On this logic, why do man-of-the-match awards exist? (To digress for a moment, it was notable that all three gongs from last week's matches went to back-row forwards: David Wallace of Ireland, James Haskell of England and Imanol Harinordoquy of France. What did this tell us? In my view, it was indicative that each team, with the arguable exception of the French, made a cagey start to the tournament, sparring with opponents rather than attacking them with all their available weaponry. I didn't expect this from Ireland. It may be that they wanted to hold something back for today's big match in Paris, but at international level it's a big call to play within yourselves). Again, if there is no real place for individuality, why do we have the cult of captaincy? Just recently, all three captains of our major team sports – John Terry, Andrew Strauss and Steve Borthwick – have, for very different reasons, dominated the headlines. While we're on this subject, I must say that Borthwick's last two performances for England may well have settled the very public argument concerning his place in the Test side. Only those who insist on viewing his rugby through very dark glasses will see it otherwise. We hear so much about "leadership groups" and "core leadership" but, in my experience, the key factor in the development of a truly successful side is the presence of individuals in every position who are prepared and equipped to stand up to be counted at the moments of greatest intensity and perform their allotted roles to the best possible standard. I've spoken before of the elements that make up the high-level performance equation: the physical, the mental, the tactical and the technical. The higher the level of competition, the more ruthlessly an individual's weakness in any of these areas will be exposed. When that happens, the effect on the team – the collective – is often dramatic. It seems to me that the "no 'I' in 'teams'" approach is fundamentally flawed. For want of a better word, it's a myth. It deserves to be treated with the same suspicion as other questionable phrases, like "game plan", and for the same very good reason: it takes no account of the "oh no, what have I done?" part of sport, which is always with us. People do daft things on the field, especially when the so-called "plan" doesn't work the way they expected and they find themselves wondering what to do next. Everyone should take the field prepared to lead as and when the situation demands, because in a game of rugby it will fall on each player to make an important decision of his own, more often than not when things are going badly. If you have 15 people who can do this, you have a true collective and a true team. A team made up of individuals. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=36 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=36 It is unique. I can think of no annual international team tournament anywhere in the world that rivals the Six Nations Championship in heightening the emotions and captivating the mind. For the players, it is both physically demanding and mentally draining. For the coaches – and I have first-hand knowledge here – it is an all-consuming experience, bordering on the claustrophobic. For the supporters, it is irresistible. What other event drives so many people with no hope of laying their hands on a match ticket to travel around Europe at considerable personal expense, just for the fun of being in the proximity? To them, it is almost an annual holiday. To those directly involved, it is most certainly not a holiday, of any description. The Six Nations is an unusually intense amalgam of tradition, long-standing rivalry and partisanship in which success depends on a team's ability to come up with something new in the face of age-old familiarity. For much of my lengthy involvement in the tournament, it was the French who generally threatened to produce something different. I am not sure if this is still the case: they lost much of their unpredictability under the leadership of Bernard Laporte, and while there are signs that his successor, Marc Liθvremont, has recaptured something of that glorious spirit, his inconsistency as a selector seems to me to have been an inhibiting factor. Maybe the Irish, winners of the 2009 championship in the Grand Slam style, will be the first to show they have added something to their game. Certainly, I'm impressed by the way Brian O'Driscoll is speaking about his team's approach to the next seven weeks. Ireland may have scaled the peak last season, but even though that achievement meant so much to them they are showing no signs of relying on a 12-month-old brand of rugby. O'Driscoll says that to defend the title successfully, they have to start over rather than attempt to pick up from where they left off. They have to "earn it all over again", to borrow his phrase: last year was last year, it's done and dusted. He's absolutely right. From the coaching perspective, expectation at this time of year is never less than overwhelming. There are those who might put Italy in a slightly different bracket to the other countries, but even they have their dreams, their hopes, their challenges. There is always a feeling in the English camp that they are the No 1 target for everyone else, but the tribal nature of the Six Nations is such that each individual fixture has a special resonance of its own. Today's England-Wales match has dominated the build-up, but if we fast-forward seven days, we see two fixtures – Wales-Scotland and France-Ireland – that promise to generate just as much heat. There has also been much talk of teams keeping half an eye on next year's World Cup. The reality is that for the duration of this competition, there can be no distractions. The luxury of building a team at 18 months' distance irrespective of immediate results is not something modern coaches expect to be granted. My Six Nations experience began in the days of the old Five Nations: I coached Ireland through a tournament before joining the England staff under Clive Woodward. Then there were two championship campaigns as England's head coach. Clive always said that the Six Nations was more pressurised, more intense and more difficult to negotiate than the international series against the big southern hemisphere sides before Christmas, and I found that to be true. There is something about the fervour of tournament rugby that raises the temperature. It's that claustrophobia thing, I guess. As head coach, you never switch off. You eat, drink and sleep rugby, constantly turning the tiniest details over in your mind. There is no break, no let-up. Everything is pushed through you, from the big issues – how are we going to beat this lot on Saturday? – to the small ones, concerning this player's fitness programme or that player's recovery session. The job involves working out the optimum time to travel as well as the best time to train. Believe me, five major Test matches spread over seven weekends is seriously demanding, and managing a squad of players through that kind of fixture list is no easy matter. Things have changed significantly since I last coached England. I seem to remember that before our match with Wales two years ago, eight of the 12 Premiership teams played the previous Sunday – a less than ideal situation that left us with one meaningful training session ahead of the international. Now, most of the squads spend around eight weeks together. What would I have done with the extra time? Part of me would have wanted to send the players home halfway through, on the basis that I was sick of the sight of them! Seriously, I would have placed increased importance on my off-field coaching to reflect the physical and mental state of the squad. There are times in the tournament environment when players become drained. It is not difficult to tell when it happens because they look dead on their feet, yet some coaches stick to a rigid training regime regardless. To my mind, it is infinitely better to say to the senior players: "Right, we're not going near a rugby ball today. Sit down here, tell me what you think about things and let's see if together, we can't come up with something fresh." This is the challenge: to make it new. Not just at the start of the championship, but as you move through it. In this age of all-seeing video analysis, flexibility and adaptability are everything. If a team enters a Six Nations without the ability to change their game from one match to the next – even from one 40 minutes to the next – they will find themselves in big trouble. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=35 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=35 There is always a crackle of excitement when the Six Nations Championship comes into view, but unfortunately we have yet to lose sight of the stilted performances turned in during the autumn by the northern hemisphere countries, with the single exception of Ireland. It leaves me wondering exactly what we can expect from the forthcoming tournament. Will the coaches be brave enough to take a step or two back and allow players to navigate their own way through these high-profile, high-pressure contests, or will we see the playbooks and patterns proliferating once again? With this in mind, I'll be looking closely at the players wearing the Nos 12 and 13 because in many important respects, these will be the people setting the tone for the competition. Is it too much to hope that they will be the centres of attacking attention? Or will they be reduced, as so often these days, to spectator status in attack and find themselves restricted to making big-hit tackles and securing turnover ball? I'm not suggesting tackles and turnovers are anything less than commendable, but do we really want our centres to spend their afternoons ploughing into contact and producing slow ball, or chasing high kicks that are the inevitable consequence of an ultra-conservative, blinkered approach? Am I alone in craving a little liberation for the midfield community? I want to see them bringing the full range of skills to the party, to savour a little elusive running and distributive subtlety – a passing game that creates space through weight, pace and timing. How often do we see a pair of centres working the angles together in broken play after four or five phases? It is hardly commonplace. But if anyone tries to tell me this is a thing of the past, that the modern game is not the place for it, I'll tell them to watch Brian O'Driscoll play alongside Gordon D'Arcy for Leinster, or find themselves a tape of O'Driscoll and Jamie Roberts cutting up the South Africans on last summer's Lions tour. O'Driscoll is the perfect example of a centre whose rugby decisions are made in direct response to the things happening around him. He was always a dynamic, highly skilled, courageous player, but over the last 18 months he seems to have added all manner of sophisticated touches to his game. I have no evidence for this, but I suspect the Ireland coach, Declan Kidney, has had a positive influence here. I came to know Declan quite well during my time working with Ireland in the mid-1990s and he is the kind of coach who encourages players to take responsibility, to "give the game" to them. Ian McGeechan – Sir Ian, as we must refer to him now – is another such coach and his pairing of O'Driscoll and Roberts in South Africa was a masterstroke. Here was a beautifully balanced midfield partnership: strong, aggressive and open-minded; two players blessed with nuance as well as physicality. They showed us multifaceted centre play at its best, playing with speed and variety, handling brilliantly under pressure, supporting each other with cleverly angled late runs and presenting the ball in contact with great precision and reliability. I haven't seen Roberts perform nearly as well since, but O'Driscoll continues to play some mind-stretching stuff. What do I mean by midfield balance? It is not simply a case of pairing a "footballer" with a bigger, stronger, more direct "basher", although many coaches appear to follow this policy automatically. The most productive partnerships feature individuals who understand each other's games as deeply as their own and bring a wide range of complementary skills to the mix. Ideally, one should have a strong kicking game. In the Leinster side, D'Arcy does not put boot to ball often, if at all, but while O'Driscoll is not particularly noted for his talents in this field, he can kick intelligently when required. Of course, if you have an outside centre who can kick long and accurately off both feet, like Jeremy Guscott, you're quids in. His ability in this department freed up non-kickers or reluctant kickers – Phil de Glanville, say, or Will Carling – to concentrate on their strengths, safe in the knowledge that there was a safety net nearby. Will this tournament spark a renaissance in European midfield play? The phrase "dream on" springs to mind. I expect to see players being ordered to smash their way across the gain-line close to the scrum and to follow the "defence wins matches" mantra. I hope I'm proved wrong, but if my worst fears come to pass, at least we will have O'Driscoll. Northampton missed a chance to rattle Munster I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in the Northampton dressing room after last weekend's Heineken Cup pool match in Munster, which they lost by three points. I suspect they will quickly have reached the conclusion that this was an opportunity missed. The mindset of the game was deeply intriguing, with two elements in particular that set me thinking. Firstly, why did we see Shane Geraghty impersonating Stephen Myler when the real thing was sat on the bench? Shane poses many threats to a defence and does a number of things extremely well, but if a coach decides that Myler's more narrowly focused, kick-based rugby is what he needs, he'd be better advised to pick...Stephen Myler. Secondly, it was interesting to hear Paul O'Connell, last summer's Lions captain, talking pre-match about Munster's "fear of losing at home" and equating that very rare experience to a "death in the family". Fear can be a motivation, but that unusually strong description seemed to me to indicate a chink in the armour. Munster will never be an easy proposition in Limerick, but there were possibilities for Northampton on this occasion. They did not capitalise and, as a result, must make a return trip in the quarter-finals. Roll on the next game. Keep up to date with Brians thoughts @ www.independent.co.uk every Saturday http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=34 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=34 The mindset matters. History and experience tell us that when all other things are equal in the pressurised cauldron of elite sport, those with the ability to think clearly, stay on-process in the face of distraction and exert some control over the way decisions are made at important moments are the ones most likely to succeed. These are the gifts that separate the world-class player from – for want of a better word – the "ordinary" international. So how is it that in rugby, less time is spent working on the mental side of the game than on any other area of high-level performance? It seems to me that there is an absence of logic here. Specialists in mental skills tend to be called upon as a last resort when things are going badly wrong, as opposed to going well. Surely, it should be the other way round. Instead of starting from the negative base of playing catch-up in addressing serious problems, it seems more sensible to spend time maximising players' mindset potential when there are positive aspects of performance that require consolidation and development. Clive Woodward used to say that the clever coach learnt more from winning than he did from losing, and he was right. I should point out that the mental part of the training equation cannot stand alone, isolated from the rest of the week's programme. That would be nothing more than an exercise in box-ticking, and I've never been much interested in ticking boxes. Full value can be derived only from a properly integrated approach in which the physical and technical preparation goes hand in hand with the mindset work. In the practical sense, this means putting players in uncomfortable situations in training by introducing diversions and distractions of the kind they might encounter in a game and forcing them to react. I admit that, like many coaches, I once saw the "clean hands" training session – that is to say, the session with no mistakes – as the ultimate end in itself. Then I had one of those "hang on a minute" moments and thought: "What is the use of error-free training when there are no games without errors?" I decided that the "clean hands" theory was delusional, a cop-out. Training should be challenging, not reassuring. All this sprang to mind when, with the weather turning grim, I found myself watching the magnificent South Africa-England cricket Test in Cape Town. It was utterly absorbing – there were enough twists and turns to send the participants' mental cogs into overdrive for hours at a time – and what really struck me was the mental strength of Paul Collingwood. I did a little research and found that in three of his most recent innings, he batted for a total of 12 hours 56 minutes, facing 532 balls and scoring 140 runs. Those figures bear testimony to the power of the top sportsman's mind, for every one of those 532 deliveries had the potential to turn the match decisively towards the opposition. In cricket, remember, the batsman has no second chance. Rugby is different, to the extent that a player can make 10 mistakes and still walk away with the man-of-the-match award if other things go right. Defining moments occur whenever someone is directly involved in the action, which can happen at any time, unforeseen and entirely without warning. If most players understand the generalised, big-picture stuff – let's make a good start, let's not do anything daft just before half-time, and so on – they are more vulnerable when there is a split-second decision to be made. That's when rugby gets closer to cricket and players find themselves in Paul Collingwood territory. But even then, they have it easier. Just recently, Collingwood's split-seconds have been multiplied by 532. These days, I do some work on tactical awareness with the England and Wales Cricket Board and the directors of cricket at the first-class counties, and I sometimes wonder if most cricketers are tougher than most rugby players when it comes to mental application. In rugby, there are frequent opportunities for redemption; in cricket, such opportunities are few and far between. When I was involved in setting up the Rugby Football Union's national academy, mental skills was a subject to be taken seriously. We ran a daily session on this and it became one of the hallmarks of the system. A coach learns a good deal about a player when, instead of ambling through some routine semi-opposed stuff, he suddenly takes the outside-half off the field and says to the tight-head prop or the blind-side flanker: "Right, there are three minutes to go, you have a line-out in your own 22, your key decision-maker is off the field and you need a try from somewhere. What are you going to do about it?" If his mindset is all it should be, he'll come up with an answer. Fran made sure I cottoned on I don't suppose I was ever renowned as a scrummaging coach, but I know enough about the set piece to understand this much: anyone who imagines a team can win a match when their pack spends almost the entire match in rapid retreat, as the Wasps forwards did at Leicester last Saturday, must be stark raving mad. The scrum is not everything in a game of rugby, but it has never been anything less than a point of great physical and psychological significance. During my playing days as a scrum-half, I spent a good deal of time putting the ball into a front row boasting a certain Fran Cotton – and believe me, he was not one to be amused at the thought of a prop forward's hard work going to waste. Whenever I looked the formidable Fran in the eye, I was instantly reminded of two great rugby truths: that the timing and delivery of my feed had to be spot on, and that the possession delivered back to me had to be used correctly. Or else. To catch Brian's thoughts every Saturday log on to www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=33 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=33 The New Year weekend seemed as good a time as any to feel positive about the future: if these annual celebrations are about anything, they're about hope. So it was that I settled down to watch the Guinness Premiership action in a mood of high-minded optimism, only to be disappointed by many of the things I witnessed. Perhaps it was destined to turn out that way. After all, it is also the season for pantomimes. With the trials, tribulations and negativity of 2009 behind us, I felt there was a chance that the first action of 2010 would offer something fresh. What did we see and hear? A lot of shouting and posturing, much of it from coaches and administrators, about problems in the game that would be much less problematic if more people worried less about what cannot be achieved and spent more time opening their minds to the sport's possibilities. Sadly, the spirit of acrimony continues to reign, particularly in England. How the rest of the world must be enjoying the spectacle. Depressingly, refereeing is again at the forefront of the debate. Yes, there are frustrating inconsistencies, but union is an unusually difficult game for officials to manage, especially in and around the tackle area, and it is ludicrous to point the finger at one man and blame him for all ills. In the final analysis, the referee is not responsible for player indiscipline, tactical inadequacy or technical incompetency; nor is he the one who affects the nature of a game with substitutions that go wrong. I've seen examples of all this and more over in the space of two or three weeks. Not once did I think the ref might have something to do with it. Unfortunately, there are times when the Premiership seems more like a "Mediocrityship". However, one or two of the more forward-thinking coaches have started to acknowledge that they must bear their share of responsibility in addressing the issues affecting the game at elite club level and, in addition, I'm delighted to see that referees are getting to grips with some of the more blatant offside tactics by policing the kick-chase part of the game more efficiently. This more determined approach opens up all sorts of counter-attacking opportunities to those with the right mindset. Of course, some teams are almost hard-wired to kick the ball straight back to the opposition, irrespective of what might be on offer by keeping the ball in hand and using it intelligently. But others – Northampton and London Irish are the obvious examples – have shown themselves willing to play a little rugby, rather than stick with the anti-rugby. This is no surprise, given the presence of Jim Mallinder at Franklin's Gardens and Mike Catt at the Madejski Stadium. These are people who, as players and now as coaches, have an acute appreciation of the game's possibilities. They're successful, too. Look at the league table. Interestingly, Leicester are also showing flashes of invention and ambition, largely through the southern hemisphere imports in their back three: Scott Hamilton, the New Zealander, and Lote Tuqiri, the Australian. It's fair to say that when most rugby folk think about the Tigers, they have a vision of a hard-bitten, well-organised forward pack squeezing the life out of opponents at close quarters. But often there is more to them than that – remember some of the stuff Austin Healey played in a Leicester shirt? – and it strikes me that in Tuqiri, a natural counter-attacker, and Hamilton, they have players who can see space and capitalise on it. Ultimately, though, effective counter-attacking is not in the gift of a single individual or a pair of adventurous souls among the outside backs making spur-of-the-moment decisions. It is a state of mind, a mentality, and it is truly productive only when an entire team buys into it. Instead of being a peripheral notion – an ideal to which vague lip service is paid, but nothing more substantial – it should be a fundamental aspect of a club's approach. This means making it an integral part of preparation each and every week. Sadly, I find myself wondering whether more than a couple of leading teams bother with it at all. Still, I live in hope that we enter a new decade standing on the brink of a revolution in attacking rugby. The likes of New Zealand and Australia showed us the way in the autumn and there have been isolated flashes of something similar in the Premiership. If that sounds unduly optimistic... well, as I said at the start, it's that time of year. Shaw is a rare animal indeed The more I watch Simon Shaw play a form of rugby that marks him out as one of the most gifted players in the sport, the more I'm tempted to call him the Peter Pan of the English game: the lock who refuses to grow up. Long may it continue. Simon is 36 now, and one of those rare professionals who knows what it was to be an amateur. He is equally rare in many other respects, to the extent that I wonder whether we have ever produced a more complete front-five forward. Outstanding in his level of technical mastery and supremely athletic for such a big man, he has over the years developed a tactical nous and a significant degree of mental strength. Increasingly, he is showing himself as a shrewd and influential observer of the modern game and I have particularly enjoyed his sharp comments on rugby's pervasive gym culture and the current obsession with "following the playbook". His performance for Wasps, albeit in defeat, against Newcastle last Sunday was exceptional. It was far from the most gripping match I've ever seen, but Simon gave it something by which it could be remembered. Keep up with Brians views every week in the Independent on Saturday or log on to www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=32 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=32 Classical scholars amongst us might describe the rugby year of 2009 as an annus extrarius: a strange 12 months bordering on the bizarre, what with the fake blood business, the drugs scandals, the inexplicable plague of gouging incidents and all the rest of it. Perhaps the oddest aspect was the near-hysterical reaction from some quarters to the change in the law at the contact area, allowing the tackler more latitude in contesting possession. Some coaches seemed to think it was the worst thing ever to have happened to the game, but they were quickly put in their place by teams like New Zealand, Australia and Leinster, who, with the aid of strong and accurate refereeing, proved there was plenty of opportunity for positive, intelligent attacking play. Being someone who prefers to look forward rather than back, that's enough of '09. My real interest is in what we can look forward to, and the challenges we should throw down, in 2010. One thing strikes me immediately: we should be clamouring for more major productions of the kind put on by Harlequins and Saracens, who have moved Premiership fixtures to the biggest stadiums in the land – Twickenham, Wembley – with great success. More of that, please. The sport needs all the bold initiatives it can get. Perhaps more importantly, I'd like to see growing numbers of coaches and players take a philosophical leaf from the book of my all-time sporting hero, Muhammad Ali. Two of his phrases spring to mind. "Defy the impossible and shock the world," is the first. The second? "He who does not dare to take risks achieves nothing in life." These typical Ali one-liners have a direct relevance to rugby, which to my mind is worryingly short of people prepared to open themselves up to what I call "SCD" thinking. The initials stand for "something completely different". Where in our game do we have the Kevin Pietersen character, inventing the rugby equivalent of the reverse sweep? Where, to hark back to Ali, can we find the imagination that produced the "rope-a-dope" strategy that did for George Foreman in that famous title fight in Zaire? Union is so full of drills and patterns and systems and game plans, the instances of people playing by their instincts are growing rarer almost by the week. Are the "SCD" thinkers, the flyers in the face of orthodoxy, still around? When I reflect on my years working with Clive Woodward, I think of a man who had a deep-rooted suspicion of doing things by the book. Sometimes, we would pinpoint the very things people said could not be done and work out ways of doing them. Clive created what might be called a culture of possibility during his time with England – not something traditionally associated with the national team – and ultimately, he hit the jackpot. I wonder to what extent that spirit is still alive in the game in this country. Are enough coaches, players and administrators prepared to buck convention, turn their backs on conservatism and operate outside their nice little comfort zones? Do they have, as Clive had, the courage to fail? How many Grand Slam matches did England lose before winning the World Cup? Three, and they were painful defeats. Lessons had to be learnt and they were, but crucially, there was no turning off the chosen path. Adjustment in the face of defeat? Yes. Abandonment? Absolutely not. In 2010, I'd like to see less regimentation. This is not pie in the sky; rather, it is entirely logical. In today's game, the lion's share of a team's possession comes from turnover ball, not from set-piece play. And what does the turnover engender? A degree of confusion, with people out of position and out of synch. Instead of forcing patterns down the throats of our players, we need to make them feel more at home in the hostile environment of the destructured game – to encourage them to create order from chaos. Too many teams plan solely for the possession they expect to secure at scrum and line-out. Too few are geared up to take advantage of the disconnected, the disjointed, the disorganised. On a brighter note, the teams I mentioned at the start, plus one or two others, have shown both an ability to recognise the full range of possibilities thrown up by unstructured situations and the skill to capitalise. We have seen more of this at international level and in the Heineken Cup than in the Premiership, but even in the weekly bread-and-butter competition, there have been moments of illumination. We need more of them, because when rugby is played in the right way, it remains a fantastic product capable of drawing ever bigger audiences. Inventive Saints catch the eye Of all the Premiership teams, perhaps Northampton are catching my eye most often. They are playing highly effective rugby: there is a rhythm and tempo to their game, as well as a high degree of intensity and physicality, and more often than not, there is also an inventive dimension that makes them difficult to suppress, especially at Franklin's Gardens. I particularly like the way their forwards use clever footwork to take contact on their own terms and make the close-quarter passing game easier to play. I like the look of their coaching team. Jim Mallinder, whom I've known for many years, is a romantic with a hard edge. Dorian West, with whom I worked during my time with England, has an incredibly hard edge, tinged with the faintest touch of romanticism (not that he'd ever admit it, having spent many years in the Leicester front row). They are bright, street-wise people who have produced a team who go into the new year with chances in both the Premiership and the Heineken Cup. Catch Brians thoughts every Saturday in the Independent or www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=31 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=31 I'd like to start by awarding full marks to Alan Lewis, the Irish referee, for his handling of last weekend's Heineken Cup match between Toulouse and Cardiff Blues. Lewis did something rather unusual – and, in the process, did the game a significant favour – by sending Paul Tito, the Blues captain, to the sin bin a few minutes into the contest. Most referees wouldn't dream of taking such decisive action against a player committing a ruck offence at so early a juncture, and this has become a problem for the sport. When officials shy away from their responsibilities, it is always the rugby that suffers. Some of the people I played with and against in the dim and distant past will read this homage to Mr Lewis and wonder if I've finally flipped my lid: they remember how, during my time as a scrum-half, I enjoyed – how shall we put it? – engaging in conversation with referees about the state of a particular match, especially if he had made one or two calls I felt were dodgy. But over the course of a long career in coaching, I have noted an increase in the levels of cynicism. Hard evidence is difficult to come by, but I have no doubt that some players take the field fully prepared to commit early offences, on the basis that referees are generally a soft touch for the first quarter or so. This cannot be right. A team's best scoring opportunity might easily arise in the opening minutes, yet an opponent can kill the attack stone dead in a wholly illegal fashion and escape with nothing more than a penalty award against his team. What should have been a seven-point score is reduced to one of the three-point variety, with the infringing side keeping all 15 players on the field. In his after-match interview, Tito initially suggested his offence had not been worthy of a yellow card. Yet the referee had issued the clearest of warnings to the Blues, who were transparently guilty of interfering with Toulouse ball on the floor pretty much from the kick-off. And why shouldn't he have done? Ball-killing in the first minute is no different to ball-killing in the 80th minute and it is a blight on the sport. Apart from anything else, it prevents the public seeing the kind of rugby they've paid good money to watch. After applauding Lewis for standing firm and effectively saying, "I know what you did, you know what you did, here's a yellow card", I made a careful study of the subsequent games to see what players were getting away with as a result of lenient refereeing. The most obvious crime was offside, especially when the ball was moved wide to the touchline, leaving a team defending the whole width of the field. Time and again, entire defensive lines could be seen encroaching before the attacking scrum-half reached the ruck; indeed, some of it was every bit as blatant as the incident in the West Ham-Chelsea match, when Frank Lampard had to take a penalty three times because of people crowding into the area before the kick. Another obvious transgression saw runners chasing kicks from an offside position. This was barely policed at all. As for the number of crooked feeds at the scrum – well, that really was a joke. This week, I'm launching a new game called "Spot the Straight Feed": frankly, I don't expect to see more than a couple over the entire Premiership programme. The way things are going, union set pieces will soon be no different to those in rugby league, and this will allow coaches to pick light, mobile, running, tackling tight forwards rather than specialist scrummagers. It could be good news for everyone who wants to see the ball moved a little more – everyone, that is, except the Australians, who spent years trying to achieve precisely this without success. As they have now found themselves a real tight five, league-style scrummaging is the last thing they want to see. Without wishing to sound too much like a member of the moral majority, I have to say that the failure to crack down on these casual floutings of the law does the sport a disservice. Having heard so much from coaches bemoaning the difficulty of playing attacking rugby under the interpretations currently being applied around the tackle area, it is doubly frustrating that opportunities for dynamic and inventive play should be minimised by people who take the field assuming that certain acts will not be penalised as often or as heavily as they should be. In this spirit, I would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas – especially those referees who are prepared to do the necessary, when the situation demands, and intend to keep doing it in 2010. Like Alan Lewis. Advantages in quick decisions Am I alone in wondering whether the advantage law, as commonly applied by referees around the world, is becoming counter- productive? I have no issue with advantages for minor offences like knock-ons: generally the referee allows only a couple of phases to unfold before bringing play back for a scrum. But when a penalty offence has been committed, advantages are often allowed to drag on for ever and a day. Sometimes, two-minute chunks of play can be lost from a game where the ball might be in play for only 35 minutes. This cannot be good in value-for-money terms. To my mind, professional players should not need the safety net of a two-minute advantage to assess all the variables and make the kind of informed decision that will allow their side to capitalise on a free piece of possession. We all want to see a quicker game. A rethinking of the application of advantage would surely speed things up. Catch Brians blog on www.independent.co.uk every Saturday http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=30 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=30 Will Greenwood, one of the more constructive English rugby players of the professional era, is a television pundit these days, and one of the phrases he used in respect of the Sale outside-half Charlie Hodgson during the Heineken Cup game at Harlequins last weekend struck a chord with me. He described Charlie as a player who was "happy to go off-script when he thinks the situation calls for it", or something to that effect, and it went a long way towards explaining why Quins found their opponents such a handful, even though they were the ones playing at home. Going back a few years – decades, probably – I remember the great French coach Pierre Villepreux talking along similar lines. One of his favourite sayings was "play with your eyes", by which he meant "don't play it by the book, but play according to the things happening around you". Charlie is an excellent example of someone who does things the Villepreux way. It is not an easy art to master, even though one of the things the best practitioners have in common is their ability to make rugby look as simple as falling off a log. What separates people like Charlie from other midfielders? In essence, they have the advantage of being natural games players. What does this mean? In my view, such individuals have developed all the necessary technical competences to such a level that their mastery allows them the precious commodities of time and space. Very often, these people have a languid air about them; indeed, some of them appear almost disinterested. Daniel Carter, the New Zealand outside-half, is the ultimate in this regard: even when under the most intense pressure – especially when under such pressure, actually – he is able to make sense of the maelstrom with a bare minimum of fuss and bother. Others flounder in confusion, he prospers in his clarity. Charlie would have been no older than 16 when I first marked him out as an unusually talented player. He stood out from his peer group in his ability to sense the tiny shifts of balance in a game, appreciate the range of options available, weigh them up quickly and respond in the way that would best help his team take the most positive course of action – always with more time and space than appeared to be available to others. I remember thinking to myself: "Crikey, how am I going to present this bloke with worthwhile challenges on the training field?" It was interesting to hear Will talk about him, because Will himself was another from the same mould. He too was a natural, something inherited from his father Dick, who also played international rugby for England. Whenever I was on the same field as Dick, he seemed to me to be hovering above the pitch, looking down on the rest of us and reading the game from on high, almost three-dimensionally. Will was equally blessed with this ability to sense the shape of a contest and, being a dynamic communicator into the bargain, he was of incalculable value to the side that won the World Cup in 2003. My point here is that there is no reason why a side should have only one or two such players, and this is where good coaching can be of help. If we spent less training time concentrating on "drills", which encourage robotic learning, and put more of our effort and intuition into games-based preparation, which encourages dynamic learning, we might see more people following the Villepreux dictum and "playing with their eyes". It strikes me that Leinster, the current European champions, take precisely this approach to their rugby – something that underpinned the exceptional quality of their first-half performance against Scarlets in Llanelli a week ago. They have made great strides in recent seasons, developing a harder physical edge while refusing to compromise on their determination to play positively and do things differently. Leinster's game is based on intent: to obtain quick ball, attack space and kick with purpose. Against Scarlets, this was beautifully orchestrated by a player I know well from my Bath connections, the outside-half Shaun Berne. He is the kind of player who, in a quietly effective fashion, makes those around him perform better; certainly, there were a number of very good players down at the Recreation Ground, not least Mike Catt, who enjoyed the benefit of Berne's outstanding skill set and command of technique. To my mind, he is one of the smart signings of the season. Teams must put their minds to stopping violence Talking of Heineken Cup affairs, there were sorry outbreaks of violence and controversy in a couple of matches last weekend, hence all the activity from citing officers and disciplinary tribunals in recent days. What was the principal cause of this kind of behaviour? I have a suspicion that much of it came down to an incomplete understanding of what has become known as the "high-performance model". There are four key elements to the top sportsman's make-up: technical, tactical, physical and mental. Most leading performers in any sport will say that when push really comes to shove, the defining one is the last. Yet far less time is spent developing and improving this aspect of an individual's make-up than on any of the others, which seems just a little crazy. Especially in a game like rugby, which is supremely demanding and often played in a frenzy of competitiveness, mental control is the glue that holds the performance model together in pressure situations. If it is largely ignored by those in charge of team preparation, is it any surprise that a lack of clear thinking and a loss of self-control lead players to commit acts that are "stupid" and "idiotic", to quote some of the words that have emerged from an embarrassed Stade Franηais? Catch up with Brians thoughts every Saturday @ www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=29 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=29 Barbarians rugby may have lost a little of its lustre since the dawning of the professional era and the explosion of interest in events at club level, but to my mind it is still something to treasure – not least when the Baa-Baas are involved in a high-quality match that challenges some of the orthodoxies of the modern game. This happened last weekend at Twickenham, where they achieved a rare and precious victory over the All Blacks. I found their performance fascinating, especially in the current climate of doom and gloom. How was it that a team thrown together over a few days – one which, in the words of the coach Nick Mallett, had only two "walkabout training sessions" – could beat a side as good as New Zealand in front of 63,000 spectators? Admittedly, a Barbarians fixture does not quite generate the intensity of a full-on Test, and I acknowledge that this All Blacks side was effectively a second string. But it was quite clear to me that both teams took the field with real desire, and as the New Zealand coach, Wayne Smith, had publicly stated that the match represented a major opportunity for his players to press their claims for first-team status next season, the tourists' incentive to catch the eye was very considerable indeed. The Baa-Baas won primarily because they played with more variety, creativity and imagination than we generally see from international and club sides who spend their lives training and preparing together. And here's the point. Time limitations meant the Barbarians had no choice but to make simplicity and clarity the cornerstones of their approach, and there will have been a massive input from the players themselves. They knew they would need all their intuition and understanding to navigate their way through the contest – to react to events as they unfolded. Without a wholly positive mindset, both in possession and without the ball, they could not have hoped to win. I'm not suggesting there was no hard edge to their rugby: one look at the team selection told us all we needed to know on that front. The backbone of the side was South African, for the excellent reason that the New Zealanders held no fear for a Springbok contingent who had beaten them with some regularity during the southern hemisphere season. When you take the likes of Habana, Fourie, Du Preez, Du Plessis, Matfield and Burger and add players as good as Matt Giteau and Jamie Roberts (who revelled in the creative spirit to play his best rugby since the Lions tour), you have a combination capable of both matching the All Blacks up front and threatening them with genuine firepower outside the pack. But equally, there were subtleties and intricacies about the Baa-Baas that put some of the rugby we've been watching to shame. Which leads me to one of the truths of rugby union: never underestimate the value of the dummy switch. Both sides scored tries from this beautifully simple, space- creating ploy, despite operating in narrow channels no more than 15 or 20 metres wide. The All Blacks started with a four-on-four situation, yet managed to give Ben Smith a free run to the line; Giteau manufactured a score for Bryan Habana with a half-break and an offload. Of course, the dummy switch does not appear in any "101 Best Backs' Moves" manual – a publication I would never allow into the house. Why has it fallen from grace? Because if it is used at all these days, it is as a premeditated se -play. This is entirely ridiculous. The dummy switch works best when defenders' reaction time is minimised, generally after four or five phases. Performed on the hoof, at exactly the right time and in exactly the right circumstances, it kills the opposition far more often than not. One other thing struck me about the Twickenham game: the All Blacks' use of Sitiveni Sivivatu, their supremely dangerous wing, at outside centre. I assume this was forced on them by injury, but I would not be surprised if the New Zealand coaches did not take another look at this arrangement ahead of the 2011 World Cup. It was not an unqualified success, but it threw up some mouth-watering attacking possibilities. Who would want to defend against Sivivatu when he is seeing more of the ball than usual? Genuine strike runners in the No 13 position are far from common nowadays: certainly, there aren't too many in the mould of Jeremy Guscott, with whom I had the good fortune to work for many years at Bath. Jerry gave balance to a back division: there was a creative element to his passing, he could kick like a mule off both feet and he was far stronger in defence than many people were willing to believe. (Something to do with his good looks, I suppose). But most of all, he scared opponents with his pace. For my money, Sivivatu could frighten teams in the same kind of way. English players are missing a trick Am I alone in feeling disappointed at the absence of bright young English talent from the Barbarians' line-up? I know there are a lot of rugby politics surrounding major Baa-Baas fixtures when they clash with Premiership matches, but it would be nice to think that, somewhere along the line, home-grown talent might be given the opportunity to thrive in an environment where freedom of expression is always more important than remembering every last detail of the game plan. Apart from anything else, they would spend time socialising with world-class players from half a dozen countries. You cannot buy that kind of experience. What is more, you can't coach it into people either. Catch up with all Brians thoughts every week in the Independent on Saturday or go to www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=28 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=28 After weeks of incessant clamour from coaches and administrators about the difficulty of scoring tries under the rules currently being applied in the tackle area, what happened in the last round of international and Premiership matches? A scoring frenzy. Tries came along like Blackpool trams, one after another: 25 of them in five games alone, with well over half being credited to the away teams. For those of us who enjoy seeing lazy theories being disproved, it was good fun. The teams responsible for most of this scoreboard activity – New Zealand and Australia; Northampton, Leicester and Harlequins – had something in common. All fielded a genuinely gifted footballer at outside-half. Dan Carter and Matt Giteau; Shane Geraghty, Toby Flood and Nick Evans ... these are players handsomely equipped to make things happen under any set of laws. As I've repeatedly pointed out since the start of the season, there are always ways of attacking the opposition effectively if people open their minds. Of these No 10s, the one who really captured my attention was Giteau. I thought his performance for the Wallabies in Cardiff was consummate: a wonderful amalgam of technical brilliance in all departments – running, handling, kicking – and instinctive rugby intelligence, topped off with the kind of courage, mental rather than physical, that separates the best from the rest. If you look back in history, virtually all the finest outside-halves had the ability to make assessments on the move, to sense precisely what was happening as a situation unfolded and make the right choice. These people are not two-a-penny, but in the modern game, Giteau demands to be included among the rarities. Time and again at the Millennium Stadium, he reacted more quickly than his opponents and nailed home the advantage. Crucially – and this is where the courage comes in – he also played very close to the Welsh defensive line. Many players, some of them extremely good, tend to drift out of this area in the knowledge that a mistake will be very costly indeed, but by doing this they give defences more time to organise. Giteau did not choose to buy himself time. Instead, he backed himself to do the correct thing in the eye of the storm. What is it that allows the Giteaus of this world to operate in such a way? In my experience, self-confidence is at the heart of it. Of course, there are plenty of super-confident people around who can't actually play; without the right degree of technical mastery, it doesn't much matter how confident you are. But Giteau has all the skills, developed to an unusually high level. He has earned the right to be confident. During my time coaching England, perhaps Austin Healey came closest to having the Giteau mindset. I don't suppose Austin was everyone's cup of tea, but in my eyes, he had all the mental, physical and technical attributes of an outstanding sportsman. He certainly had the confidence I've been discussing: Austin was absolutely convinced that he was the best player in the world, whatever position he might be occupying at the time. And remember, he is unique in having played for England in every position from scrum-half to full-back – a versatility that virtually gave us a 16th man on the field. There were four key elements in his make-up, apart from that confidence: he was a genuinely explosive athlete, despite not being the biggest man; he had a massive range of skills; he had a deep rugby intelligence that underpinned the creative aspect of his game; and, perhaps most importantly, he was extremely tough psychologically. He was never afraid to do the different thing, however demanding the environment. I remember our Test against South Africa in Pretoria in 2000. Austin had stepped into the outside-half position after Jonny Wilkinson pulled out just before kick-off, and the Springboks spent a good deal of time battering away at our line before finally conceding a penalty. Most 10s, desperate for a breather, would have banged the ball into touch. Austin tapped and went. Three passes and one kick later, the ball was in the Springbok in-goal area, where Tim Stimpson was denied a good try by the video ref. A few months later, when Austin was playing on the right wing against France, he suddenly appeared at scrum-half, pulled an overhead kick out of the locker and created a try for Mike Catt. Can you imagine how an overhead kick would have looked if it hadn't worked? The point about Austin was that he refused to imagine any such thing. Working with him was invigorating as well as challenging. Unfortunately, many coaches prefer players who are more compliant. Those coaches have it the wrong way round: instead of being afraid of such people, they should encourage them. I believe we are still producing "ideas" players like Austin, although not in anything like sufficient numbers. They should be the favourites of the coaches, not be marginalised for the "sin" of having an opinion. Hard to better Test of champions Proof that rugby can satisfy its followers in different ways was provided by Ireland and South Africa. It was a Test of considerable importance – the champions of the northern hemisphere against the champions of the south – and it could have been a dour contest. Yet while there was only one try, those watching witnessed a battle royal between teams who showed positive intent in every aspect of the game. But for some poor execution there would have been more tries, but as I've argued before, the number of tries does not define the quality of a match. This was hard, committed rugby where attacking willingness was matched by ferocious defence. It's difficult to ask for more. Catch Brians thoughts every Saturday in the Idependent or at www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=27 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=27 There is a tremendous amount of noise being generated around rugby by people worried about the "state of the game", by which I take them to mean the recent shortage of dynamic, end-to-end action, together with a sharp drop in the number of tries seen in the Premiership – and, in many instances, at international level as well. I believe there are strong grounds for concern, but what really intrigues me is the deafening silence from certain stakeholders in the sport. For one thing, we're not hearing too many complaints from the commercial side. The ball may be spending endless amounts of time in the air as straitjacketed teams attempt to lure each other into a mistake, but the grounds are still filling up and the money is still coming in. As for the players themselves... well, they're even quieter. If a senior professional has gone public in his criticism of the rugby being played this season, I must have missed it. To the best of my knowledge, no player has breathed a word on the issue of the moment. What do we make of this strange state of affairs? After all, the players are the ones ultimately responsible for delivering what modern management types describe as "the product". Is it that they are not allowed an opinion? Or might it be – and this is the worst-case scenario – that they would rather not have one? If that is the situation, the environment of professional rugby is more robotic than I dared imagine. It leads me to wonder if freedom of expression in all its manifestations, physical as well as verbal, is being hammered out of players at an increasingly young age. All this was brought into sharp focus just recently in a high-standard schools match. On one side of the half-way line was a team from a traditional seat of learning, where rugby, although taken seriously, was just one of the activities on the curriculum. Their opponents were from a school offering students a "rugby diploma" – one that had developed satellite links with a Premiership academy. They had all the professional accoutrements: lots of coaches, state-of-the-art equipment, the best nutrition, walkie-talkies, you name it. And they were beaten, quite comprehensively. Are we dumbing down many of our most ambitious young players unnecessarily? It is something for those at the top end of the sport to ponder. All I know is that schoolboys are young people who go to school and play rugby while they're there, not rugby players who happen to go to school. If we don't understand that, then we're in trouble. Up there in professional circles, it is very fashionable to point the finger at the International Rugby Board and accuse its members of failing to show the right kind of leadership. But all the IRB can do is tweak the laws. It cannot change attitudes or conjure a new, bolder and more dynamic rugby mindset out of thin air. If we follow the trail back to its source in search of those responsible for this current outbreak of dead-end rugby, the obvious candidates are the coaches. As I have mentioned before in these pages, the notion that the coach runs and controls everything – game preparation, tactical switches during a match, the Monday morning debrief and everything in between – is anathema to me. In the not-so-far-off days of amateurism, there were times when work commitments prevented a coach from making it to a training session. What happened then? The players did the thinking and organising for themselves. This modern idea that the coach, and only the coach, calls the shots is not likely to lead to greater understanding and the wider acceptance of responsibility within a group. But in this age of bottom-line accounting – of the association of playing success on the field with commercial success off it – I suspect some of the blame should be laid at the feet of the chief executives. Are their demands and expectations creating an atmosphere of fear and inhibition among the coaches and players? If so, there are no prizes for guessing what impact this has on the "product". Maybe the CEO class should start attending the odd coaching seminar as a means of learning what this sport is, or should be, about. If the penny drops with them, those growing numbers who flock to our rugby grounds on a weekly basis might start getting more for their money than they're getting now. Blue Bulls prove the laws can work By the way, it is in fact possible for two teams to produce a game of rugby worthy of the name under current laws. Anyone who watched the recent final of the Currie Cup, the premier domestic competition in South Africa, will agree with me. The Blue Bulls and the Free State Cheetahs treated the Pretoria crowd to six tries and 60 points while playing under precisely the same rules at the tackle area as those in force up here in the northern hemisphere – rules that some coaches claim are making attacking rugby an impossibility. Don't get me wrong: I don't automatically equate masses of points and torrents of tries with good rugby. I believe high value should be placed on a try; indeed, I've seen captivating games in which no try was scored, let alone half a dozen of them. But every now and again, particularly when professional rugby men are protesting about the iniquities of the law book, it is good to be shown the other side of the argument. Where there's a will, there's a way to play the kind of rugby everyone claims they want to play. Read Brians thoughts in the Independent every Saturday or go to www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=26 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=26 Some of the rugby I've seen played in the British Isles of late, including major international contests, has set me thinking anew about what I consider to be one of the burning topics in the modern game: the relationship between coaches and players, both before a match and during it. The arrival of the All Blacks in London is another reason to revisit the subject, because under their current coaches – Graham Henry, Steve Hansen and Wayne Smith – they seem to be ahead of the field in striking the correct balance. When the sport first went professional, I remember one Test player saying that, as he was now an employee, it was his job to do as his coach told him. I found it as exasperating then as I do now, for I have long held the view that this is not true; that in a game as complex as rugby, it is for the coach and the players to work through things together. Surely we are not seriously suggesting that a coach is the fountain of all knowledge, that he alone can sense the changing dynamic of a match from a seat in a stand perhaps 50 yards away from the action. Too often, I hear people talk disparagingly of a coach who has encouraged his players to become fully engaged with the decision-making process, as though his authority, perhaps even his competence, is somehow diminished by it. Actually, this engagement is precisely what should happen, because the interactive environment – the two-way street – is crucial to success. Certainly, I'm suspicious of any player who is happiest when simply obeying instructions. I was fortunate enough to coach at Bath during the club's unparalleled spell of achievement in the last decade of the amateur era and I cannot imagine we'd have been anywhere near as strong had the players not involved themselves in every aspect of our development. There were some extremely talented, strong-minded individuals at the Recreation Ground in those days: Stuart Barnes, John Hall, Jeremy Guscott...rugby followers of a certain age will know the names. If the coaches introduced the concepts, it was they who insisted on applying the detail. What was more, they constantly challenged us to come up with something different as a way of keeping the training sessions fresh. As a consequence, it was an extraordinarily invigorating environment for all of us. Of course, there comes a time when a head coach has to show his dictatorial side, to lay down the law. I dare say Henry has his moments in this regard, just like anyone else charged with running an international team under a great weight of expectation from the sporting public. But this is the same Henry who is happy to describe Daniel Carter, the All Blacks' magnificent outside-half, as his "coach on the field". I cannot imagine for a second that players as accomplished and intelligent as Carter, Richie McCaw and Conrad Smith, to name but three, do not play a prominent role in identifying the optimum approach to winning. As I've said before, I'm intrigued by the decision of the three coaches to switch responsibilities ahead of this tour. By their own admission, the All Blacks are not at the very height of their powers just now, but instead of retreating into themselves, Henry and his colleagues have chosen this moment to try something a little different. It proves to me once again that, above and beyond almost everything else, the New Zealanders are great students of the sport, endlessly fascinated by its possibilities. In August, I travelled across the Atlantic to take part in a course aimed at raising the standards of coaches in the United States. Among the people involved were four of the great All Blacks of the modern era: the hooker Sean Fitzpatrick, the No 8 Murray Mexted, the outside-half Grant Fox and the full-back Christian Cullen. Not a bad quartet. Yet each and every one of them was as open to ideas as he was to put forward thoughts of his own. Sean told me that to reach each stage of his international career – to win the shirt in the first place, to hold on to it in the face of intense opposition and, finally, to secure the captaincy – he had to raise his learning to a new level. A player like Fitzpatrick did not achieve what he did by simply following a diagram drawn for him by his coach. He was what educationalists call an "involved learner", as opposed to a "dependent learner". My fear is that professional rugby is producing too many people in the latter category and not enough in the former – that the coach-player relationship has been widely misunderstood, to the detriment of the sport as a whole. Freestyle Aussies are unplayable I often talk about rugby players having to think on their feet. Last week, the Australian rugby league team illustrated the point by conducting a masterclass in performing at the highest level in a pressurised environment – and in weather conditions a long way short of ideal. In their big match against England, they scored six tries in the final 25 minutes after being thoroughly tested in the previous 55. My point is that these tries could not, by any stretch of the imagination, have come from moves rehearsed on the training field. Instead, they were the products of the players' highly developed instinctive ability to appraise a situation and capitalise on it. If such moves are unplanned by the attacking team, this much is obvious: it's one hell of a job to defend against them. Catch Brians column every Saturday in the Independent or at www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=25 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=25 Read Brians thoughts every Saturday in the Independent, or go to www.independent.co.uk Argentina secured a famous victory when they last visited Twickenham in 2006 – I remember it distinctly, having been part of the England coaching team at the time – and when they make their return visit this afternoon, they will again pose certain dangers. Most of the perils will be concentrated in their forward pack, which is rightly considered to be one of the most formidable in the international game – but to my way of thinking, the most intriguing thing about the South Americans will be their approach away from the more static phases of play. It may be that they won't have much of an approach at all – that they will adopt the kind of heavy-hitting, no-frills strategy that has paid them dividends down the years. After all, they have lost their two principal midfield decision-makers, Juan Martin Hernandez and the profoundly accomplished Felipe Contepomi, and no longer have that wonderful little scrum-half general Agustin Pichot to look to for inspiration. But one of these fine days, I'm convinced they will take everyone by surprise with a performance of genuine adventure and leave us all saying to ourselves: "Crikey, where did THAT come from?" From the Argentine perspective, the injuries affecting Hernandez and Contepomi must be deeply disappointing. We saw the impact a well-organised, properly connected unit at scrum-half, outside-half and inside centre can have when the Wallabies won in London last week. I sang the praises of Matt Giteau on the morning of the match (you don't need to be a rugby genius to realise what an exceptional talent he is) but the quality of performances delivered by Will Genia and Quade Cooper were less easy to foresee. I was particularly impressed by Cooper, who constantly asked questions of the England midfield, both with his deceptive footwork and his level of awareness. The really striking thing about the Wallabies was their ability to operate together. I can't imagine the midfielders based themselves on the Ella brothers of the 1980s – they're far too young – but nevertheless, there were hints and echoes for those of us old enough to remember those marvellous Australian brothers working in unison. The important word there is the last one. The more I study the creative aspects of midfield play, the more I realise that connectivity – joined-up thinking, if you like – is absolutely central. Once the Australians started competing really fiercely after the interval, they shared a common wavelength. A team can have the best decision-makers in the world operating from scrums and line-outs, but it doesn't add up to much if a side becomes disconnected in phase play. Taking their cue from the midfielders, the Wallaby forwards had a highly-developed understanding of where and when they should get involved, of what was expected of them and why. This theme of collective appreciation relates to speed of ball at the tackle area – a big talking point in the wake of England's defeat – just as much as it does to the creation of attacking opportunities. Now, it's easy to talk about quick ball and a lot more difficult to deliver it, but in simple terms, there are three important factors involved: sound technique; good pace into the contact area and physicality once you get there; and, most importantly, the capacity to make what I call high-velocity decisions, especially in the case of the second and third men in support. It is they who, if they make the right calls, can ensure quality possession rather than allow the ruck to descend into chaos. As every tackle situation is different, the top-class international player is one who recognises these differences and acts accordingly, at speed. Too many players appear to think to themselves: "Right, it's a collision area, so I'll just plough right in there and do some colliding." Even if fast ball emerges, it will soon become slow ball unless there is a general appreciation of how the attack should develop. When England were building themselves into the team that would win the World Cup in 2003, that appreciation was widespread. Our scrum-halves, usually Matt Dawson or Kyran Bracken, would tell the forwards that by half-time, they wanted to be "blowing out of their backsides", or something to that effect. In other words, they wanted to play at such pace, and with such continuity, that they would be whacked out by the interval. Such rugby is not played by headless chickens. To achieve it, you have to think your way there. All 15 of you. Clever Carter gets kicks in Cardiff I was fascinated by Daniel Carter's performance for the All Blacks in their victory over Wales in Cardiff. Not in respect of the pyrotechnics he produced – there wasn't much of that, by his standards – but in the way he set about silencing the crowd and drawing the emotion from the occasion. He did this largely through his kicking game, which was full of intelligence and variety: a whole series of different kicks, some of them high and long, others short little chips down the blind side, still others against the grain. A lot of people misunderstood his display, accusing him of kicking too much. In fact, it was a brilliantly judged effort, completely in tune with the requirements of an All Black team inexperienced in some areas. And this from a player who was some way short of full fitness – indeed, someone who we were reliably informed by the Welsh coaching staff wouldn't make it onto the field at all! How they must wish they'd been right. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=24 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=24 It goes without saying that this afternoon's Twickenham international between England and Australia is an important one for both countries as they seek to build confidence and continuity ahead of the next World Cup, but I have to confess that it's more difficult than usual to take a firm view on how things will turn out. A big part of me struggles to see the Wallabies winning, for reasons I will explain. There again, there is always something perilous about writing off any Australian team ahead of the event. Watching the tourists slide to another defeat at the hands of the All Blacks in Tokyo last weekend, it struck me that the most consistent thing about them was their inconsistency. There were some purple patches, especially early on, but there was no sign of them maintaining their rhythm or showing the kind of sustained attacking fluidity we've come to associate with Wallaby sides down the years. While they demonstrated an ability to keep the ball through a number of phases, these passages either fizzled out through the lack of a cutting edge – very un-Australian – or ended abruptly with a turnover. At times, I wondered whether I was watching an American football outfit rather than a rugby side: it was as if one team left the field after a while, to be replaced by another wholly different in character and approach. When I coached against the Wallabies in the past, there were always certain givens. I knew they would be extremely physical and challenging in the tackle area, that their line-out would be highly effective, and that, with John Muggleton setting the highest standards as a defence coach, there would be no question of them being easy to break down. Also, there was a feeling that whatever their problems in the tight-forward department, they would somehow find a way to win unless you kept the lid on them for the entire 80 minutes. Do these tourists possess those time-honoured qualities? I wonder. One of the explanations for the stop-start nature of their game in recent weeks might be the presence of a relatively new coach in Robbie Deans, who comes from the New Zealand tradition and is introducing new ideas, new methods. More than that, though, I look at the players they have lost since the last World Cup: George Gregan and Stephen Larkham; Chris Latham and Lote Tuqiri; more recently, the unfit Stirling Mortlock. Take these people, with their hundreds of caps, out of a team without great strength in depth and the problem is obvious. They have also lost the two second-row forwards who, until recently, gave them an abrasive edge: Dan Vickerman to Cambridge University, the outstanding Nathan Sharpe to injury. To make matters worse, their gifted centre Berrick Barnes was invalided out of the tour just before the Tokyo fixture. In terms of the key decision-making positions, they have a youngster at scrum-half and a part-timer at No 12. As a consequence, an awful lot rests on the shoulders of Matt Giteau at outside-half. Now, Giteau is quite something, standing in the great tradition of Mark Ella, Michael Lynagh and Larkham, his immediate predecessor. He is one of the outstanding individuals in world rugby, not just in terms of his skill set but also his character. He is a courageous player in every sense: brave in the tackle and prepared to take the ball to the line and challenge a defence, as well as willing to back his powers of invention and try something different. But even for a player blessed with Giteau's gifts, it is a huge ask to make all the calls and shoulder all the responsibility. Put all the negatives of last week's display together – the hot-and-cold aspect of their play, their difficulties at the line-out, the failure to convert pressure into points, the defensive fragility late whenever the All Blacks played with real dynamic intent – and it is tempting to suggest that England have the winning of today's game. And yet, there are a couple of things to set against that conclusion. First, Australia come with the advantage of having played a good deal of rugby in recent weeks, all at a high level of intensity. Secondly, they are probably due a victory. Thirdly, these are the Wallabies we're talking about – a team who have demonstrated, time and again, an ability to win matches they have no obvious right to win. If England drop their guard for a moment, they will pay the price. All Blacks coaches in the spotlight Those other Antipodeans, the New Zealanders, are also here in Britain and while they didn't have the best of Tri-Nations, the mindset that allows them to attack from anywhere on the field will make them worth watching. Speaking as a coach, I'm particularly keen to see how they operate under the new division of responsibilities introduced by Graham Henry (above). The new system, geared towards freshening up the coaching environment, sees Graham handling the forwards, Wayne Smith moving from attack to defence and Steve Hansen shifting from the pack to the attack. To me, it is another example of the flexible approach that has become a hallmark of All Black rugby. Might it also be a case of Graham signalling a two-fingered farewell to the era of dyed-in-the-wool, one-trick specialist coaches? You can find Brians comments every Saturday in the Independent and at www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=23 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=23 Brian writes for the Independent every Saturday.... The Guinness Premiership has taken its share of criticism over the last few days, not least from the Wales coach, Warren Gatland, who went for the jugular by describing this season's tournament as the worst he'd seen since first coming to these parts from New Zealand. I'm sure Warren has his own motives for beating this particular drum at this precise moment, but he's hardly alone in thinking that the level of rugby in England's top domestic competition is not setting the world alight. Under the circumstances, then, it was invigorating to see Wasps – the very club Warren ran when he was making a very decent living out of the Premiership a few years ago – produce a dynamic, well thought-out performance of considerable quality in beating Gloucester at Kingsholm last weekend. By playing a game two or three times faster than the one Gloucester played, they did the sport a favour by proving that possession and territory, those sacred cows of the modern game, are not the be-all and end-all. Kingsholm is hardly the fortress it once was; indeed, it seems more of a house made of straw these days, and I'll be very surprised if Wasps are the last side to win there this season. But more importantly for those of us who enjoy watching a challenging, imaginative brand of rugby, Wasps appear to have moved on in their mindset under the stewardship of Tony Hanks, another New Zealander who just happens to be one of Warren's long-time associates. For as long as I can remember, Wasps have prided themselves on their iron defence – something that was again in evidence at Gloucester, even though the home side asked precious few questions of it. But the things that struck me were the many and varied elements of Wasps' attacking game. For a start, there were the constant changes of attacking focus: a minimum of two or three passes per phase, rather than the one-out ploys we see so often nowadays. There were constant changes of direction too, orchestrated from outside-half by David Walder, who to my mind is playing as well as any No 10 in the Premiership. Off slow ball, the instinct was to pass wide to people running outside lines, thereby avoiding the heavy-duty collision areas. When things did come to a halt, the Londoners set up mini-mauls in open field and created situations from which forwards could spin free and break clear. Perhaps most pleasing of all, they initiated a good number of attacks in the No 13 channel, just as the best All Black teams do. I remember Jeremy Guscott, one of the best outside centres ever produced by England, telling me that he felt more exposed playing against New Zealand than against any other side for precisely this reason. Yet so few teams have the confidence and control to attack where the human traffic is least congested. Wasps played a tempo-based game against a team playing a collision-based game and won hands down. By so doing, they slaughtered a couple of sacred cows badly in need of slaying. I'm not aware of the exact statistical breakdown of the match, but I wouldn't mind betting that Gloucester had an advantage in both possession and territory. The conventional wisdom says that dominance in these areas equals victory, but Wasps proved that there is more to rugby than that. Of course, possession and field position are important, but the pursuit of them as ends in themselves can be inhibiting. Wasps brought something else to the equation and they deserve to be congratulated for it. Is there a whiff of the southern hemisphere about this tactical approach? Maybe. Hanks was working with the New Zealand provincial team Waikato when Wasps called him in last year, while the new forwards man, Trevor Woodman, cut his coaching teeth in Australia. I know Trevor of old and would unhesitatingly describe him as one of the most gifted ball-playing props to have represented England. There are clearly some rich ideas floating around, whoever is responsible for them. Given that London Irish and Northampton are also pushing back boundaries, I think I'll wait a little longer before dismissing the Premiership out of hand. Put an end to 'monkey' business Hooray for Simon Shaw. If I'm not the first to say that this year – everyone with British Isles rugby at heart took the greatest delight in watching his performances for the Lions in South Africa during the summer – I make no excuses for repeating the sentiment as a result of his comments on the gym culture now dominating the physical conditioning side of the game. At long last, a player still operating at the elite end of the sport has voiced his concern about the production of "gym monkeys". Only a fool would deny the importance of getting players in the right shape, but conditioning is a cog in the wheel, not the wheel itself. I don't know too much about physiology, but it seems to me that some players are carrying more bulk than their frames can handle. Inevitably, injuries follow. I ask you this: what contribution can we really expect "monkeys" reared in gyms to make to a dynamic, challenging brand of rugby? You can also view Brian's column at www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=22 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=22 Brian's Saturday column for the Independent can also be found at www.independent.co.uk Despite the fact that the season is still unfolding, rather like the way we stretch and yawn when first awakening, I have been fascinated by the number of games where teams have snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. Only last weekend, Harlequins and Bath, both at home in hugely attractive Heineken Cup ties, lost games where they had seemed to be heading in the right direction for victory. Quins led Toulouse 14-0 at half-time yet lost 19-23 while Bath were 21-9 up on Stade Franηais who still managed to leave The Rec as 29-27 victors. These are not the only games this season where the art of game management has been less conspicuous than you would wish. It is important to understand how to win a game of rugby – and that requires as much work off the pitch in terms of reciprocal discussion with players as it does on it. If we ask ourselves why a game can be lost from an apparently winning situation, a combination of fatigue, which leads to technical mistakes, and anxiety, which can lead to decision-making errors, provides part of the answer. But game management is essential. This means understanding how, where and why to play next in the context of any given moment in a game. Players must be able to adapt in both thought and deed to work this out and put it into operation. The question is, do we actually prepare players to manage a game properly, or do we reduce their capacity to think for themselves, express themselves and make defining decisions in the heat of battle? How much time is allocated to game understanding and preparation proportionate to its importance on match day? Understanding the game is probably the most important cog in the wheel of success. Because if the preparation comprises an exercise in box ticking – scrums, line-outs, defence, kicking, etc – that are drills and game plan-based and the week ends with unopposed or semi-opposed team runs, game understanding is unlikely to be enhanced. There are implications at all levels, and this is a massive coaching challenge in the development of younger players. If we expect players, in the white-hot atmosphere of a contest, to implement correct decisions, the preparation should reflect this. I have found that a lot of work can be accomplished off the field with open and interactive discussions with players. Talk to them, get their views, their suggestions. Often, a player will shy away from expressing his thoughts to a coach or rugby director if such thoughts are not invited. Equally, the man in charge embarks on a voyage of discovery when he sits down with a group of players and makes it clear he wants an genuine exchange of views. I remember a discussion I had with three front-row players, all now first-team regulars with their Guinness Premiership clubs, on the subject of counter-attack. One by one they expressed surprise that I would ask them about counter-attack on the basis that, "Hey, what do we know about such things? We're scrummagers." So I told them that when the ball next went off the field, they might as well go with it as they weren't contributing to the team effort. Instead of standing there, watching a game of tedious aerial tennis develop, why not get back and help out, think on their feet how they can contribute? To a man, the three took this on board and I've watched with some satisfaction all three in action this season, working in reaction to what was going on around them. Giving more time every week to practising all the "what if?" scenarios such as sin-binnings, injuries to key players, the interpretations by different referees of an identical situation, the collapse of a secure game area such as the line-out, is probably practically impossible. But if such situations are discussed fully then they will not prove to be totally unfamiliar. I have long held the firm belief that operating solely with game plans is not enough. You can have plan A and plan B for dealing with Munster/ Ospreys/Leicester/Biarritz, but when they do something you didn't expect, when a moment of magic unravels your plans, then what? I've seen this happen, seen talented players looking bemused towards their bench, seeking guidance. Plans A and B have failed, now what ? The answer is understanding game management, but players need to have the confidence to function as individuals as well as in a team, to take big decisions not scratched out across a blackboard during the week, decisions in immediate response to what's happening around them. Loose cannon locks on to targets I was delighted to see Matt Banahan playing so well last weekend. I've known the lad for years, switched him from lock to wing as a teenager, and was thrilled for him when he made his England debut against Argentina during the summer. I admit that I considered his game during the second half of last season went off radar somewhat, in that Matt was running all over the field seeking collisions, which meant he became a one-dimensional threat. But there's more subtlety to Matt's game this season and he is showing his wide range of running, handling and kicking skills, all prerequisites of attacking space. Used with or without the ball in this manner, Matt represents a real and constant threat to defences. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=21 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=21 Brian writes for the Independent every saturday: www.independent.co.uk Having enjoyed a succession of wonderful games last weekend, I felt a huge sense a gratitude to the Heineken Cup for reaching parts of me the Guinness Premiership has so far failed to reach. The character and focus shown by London Irish in their immense victory over the holders Leinster in Dublin; the breathless battle-back by Leicester, seemingly on the canvas at home to Ospreys only to force a sensational 32-32 draw; the gripping contest of Test quality that saw Northampton withstand a typical Munster offensive at Franklin's Gardens thanks to the vision of Shane Geraghty and a mighty performance by their forwards. Everywhere you looked there was drama, quality and excitement generated by Europe's premier club competition. For me, however, there was also one of those illuminating moments, as if a light bulb began to flash above my head, jolting my memory, forcing into focus the ragged edges of a concept that had long lain dormant. Watching Toulouse defeat an admittedly understrength Sale, I was hauled to the edge of the sofa as Jean-Baptiste Elissalde and Byron Kelleher repeatedly operated as if Stade were playing with two scrum-halves. Hardly surprising they have that ability since Elissalde played scrum-half so often for France, while the former Otago and Waikato half-back Kelleher was a respected All Black between 1999 and 2006. What returned to the fore in my mind was the fact that here is a weapon of considerable power to wield against the increasingly choking defences of the modern game. Yet the concept is far from a fresh development. Frιdιric Michalak and Elissalde often operated this formidable double act for France during the years leading up to the 2003 World Cup. And I remember vividly how Austin Healey and Matt Dawson could switch roles for England. Healey, out on the wing, would become scrum-half when play was in his zone while Dawson, who actually played fly-half for Northampton more than once, would remain infield and therefore closer to the tackle area when it happened away from the wing. Kyran Bracken, the former England captain and a Lion at scrum-half, led the England Under-16s at fly-half. He also went on to swap roles when playing for England with Healey. You can go back over the years and unearth similar examples, but never have we needed such a weapon more, not least as proof that you don't need to tamper with the laws of the game to effect positive change. This season, Ryan Lamb and Paul Hodgson interchanged cleverly as Irish beat Gloucester 40-10 at the Madejski Stadium. But then some people may not be aware that fly-half Lamb played scrum-half to Danny Cipriani's stand-off for England Under-19s, or that Hodgson often swapped roles playing in the 2002 Under-21s World Cup. There are several considerable advantages to adopting this tactical ploy. For example, imagine being able to facilitate delivering quick ball from the tackle area time and again, made possible by the fact that, instead of your scrum-half racing all over the field in pursuit of the ball, you have two scrum-halves in terms of servicing that tackle area; there's always someone closer to the game's key area. Once you achieve this duality, you become able to maintain the pace and tempo of the game that you want to achieve. Player takes ball into the tackle-area, presents ball... and often you wait for the scrum-half to arrive before the phases continue. With players fitter, faster and so well organised, every second you afford the opposition before punching home the advantage of your possession becomes equal to lost yards. The dreaded expression "slow ball" is one defences long to hear. You could make an immense impact when able to sustain an attack on your terms, rather than having to repeatedly deal with lost momentum and the very fast closure of gaps that occur when an attack is held up. Most defences operate effectively over a width of between 35 to 40 metres. Stretch your defence wider than that and opponents will penetrate the resultant gaps. Now, imagine being able to switch the focus of attack to 40 metres away from the tackle area with just two passes. Very often, the ball will be moved 10 to 12 metres from the tackle area which allows defenders to home in quickly, regroup even if you have executed some play in midfield to reverse the attack's direction. The lack of width favours defenders. Get it really wide with accuracy, however, and defences will ultimately snap like weary elastic. You can only cover the width of a rugby pitch so often before the team in possession find space. Toulouse exposed this more than once against Sale, who found it really difficult to defend against what was effectively two scrum-halves. There will be a number of gifted individuals capable of slotting in at both scrum-half and fly-half. Get them both operating both roles at key moments and you automatically pose new problems for defences, enhancing the dynamics of the game without the use of artificial tamperings. Counter-attacks due a comeback Sighs of relief were heard all round when most of the desperate Experimental Law Variations were abandoned. But I’m beginning to wonder if everyone in rugby is aware of that. It’s as if the ELVs have gone, but not the fear they generated, the wretched aerial tennis that resulted in badly conceived tactical fiddling. I can understand, to an extent, the anxiety early in the season as teams try to readjust, particularly when so much remains to be clarified about the tackle area. Coaches fear conceding penalties inside their own half. But whatever happened to the counter-attack? Munster executed a beauty last Saturday, Keith Earls fielding a kick, haring across the back line, accelerating around Chris Ashton and firing a lovely kick off the outside of his right boot up the left just as he was tackled. Saints were caught with shorts around ankles as David Wallace collected the kickahead to score before Phil Dowson could reach him. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=20 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=20 Brian writes for the Independent each Saturday with his views: Last weekend, I was in the north of England talking to a group of coaches involved in schools rugby. We found ourselves discussing the difference between drills-based coaching, of which I've long been deeply suspicious – the word "drill" instantly conjures up an image of a sergeant major screaming, "This is how you do it", at soldiers marching up and down the parade ground – and sessions based on problem solving, with which I'm far more comfortable. It set me thinking about the language of rugby and how the repeated use of certain words and phrases affects the way many people approach the game here. "Drill" is a good example of what I would call negative or inhibiting language, because to my mind, there are a lot of players who are good at drills who can't actually play. But there are plenty of others – "going through the phases", "setting a target" and "ball-carrier" to name three – and if we allow them to become embedded in the mindset of our coaches, especially those working with youngsters, what kind of game will we produce? Let us unpack the phrase "going through the phases". It suggests that players are simply hanging on to possession and awaiting an error rather than seeking active ways of scoring by passing early, offloading out of the tackle or bamboozling an opponent with some fancy footwork. Of course, it is often argued that, by taking play through ruck after ruck, the opposition will eventually make the mistake that leads to a try. In answer to that, I would say that as it's generally easier to defend than it is to attack, the mistake is more likely to come from the team with the ball. Slow possession from the "breakdown" (another word I dislike, suggestive as it is of something that's gone wrong) creates a kind of defensive heaven. Even the most incompetent defence can reorganise when the ball takes three or four seconds to emerge from a pile of bodies. Which leads me on to this business about "targets". If I were a midfield player, I'd be less than impressed if I was told my job was to run straight and hard into the opposition with the sole intention of giving my forwards something to hit. Where's the creativity in that? Before the Lions tour of South Africa during the summer, we were told that Jamie Roberts, the powerfully built Welsh centre, was a natural "target player". To my great delight, he showed himself to be something rather more: a natural footballer. Through exquisite timing and clever angles of running, he constantly put Brian O'Driscoll through holes and into space. Targets? The only target for Roberts and O'Driscoll was the opposition goal-line. By the same yardstick, it beggars belief that any self-respecting forward would want to be pigeon-holed as a "ball-carrier". William Webb Ellis might have revelled in the description, but I'd like to think the sport has moved on a little since the 1820s. During my trip north, I spent time with an old pal who just happens to have been one of England's great captains: Bill Beaumont. Both Bill and another friend of long standing, Fran Cotton, were tight forwards who could scrum and maul with the best of them, but they were also outstanding footballers who could use the ball as productively at close quarters as any back. They'd have been horrified by the label "ball-carrier", not least because it means nothing. What are you if you're not a ball-carrier? A full-time ruck-hitter? How depressing. If we're not careful, we'll spawn a generation of "multi-phase-contact, breakdown-oriented players who set targets with their ball-carrying". It is not a description that has much room for the art of the game – for imagination or creativity, for playing off the cuff and living off the wits – but it is, worryingly, the common language of the moment, the kind of talk you can hear at hundreds of training sessions the length and breadth of the country. Where do they come from, these ideas of rigid structure and single-tasking? A lot of them arrived here from American football. I have nothing against gridiron – it's an extremely demanding sport – but it's a game wholly dictated from the touchline. As I've spent an entire career in coaching trying to persuade players to take responsibility for their own decision making, you'll forgive me if I don't want to see union go too much further down that road. Sarries should listen to their fans Saracens went top of the Premiership last weekend, and by all accounts they were booed by their own supporters in the process. It led to a sharp response from the chief executive, Edward Griffiths, who took to the club website to criticise the booing. I'm massively intrigued by this. I didn't see the game, but it seems the supporters became frustrated during an interminable bout of "ping-pong" kicking. If that's true, I can't honestly say I blame them. They pay good money to watch and, assuming there's nothing printed on the match ticket that says, "If you're not enjoying the rugby we're playing, shut up and let us get on with it", it seems to me that they're perfectly entitled to voice their displeasure. On the field, the players are kings. Off the field, who are the most important people at a club: the management or the supporters? Saracens may well turn out to be a strong and successful team this season, but this reaction to a little criticism from the stands was bizarre. www.independent.co.uk http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=19 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=19 Spent the last week-end back in the North of England part work part pleasure with Helen and the dog ( Wurgo ! ) in attendance. Having stayed the Friday evening with my Aunt in Glazebury nr Warrington we travelled the following day to Stonyhurst College , a school I taught at some years ago to watch them play against Arnold School , Blackpool. There was an added attraction in that we were catching up with Bill Beaumont and Hillary plus other members of the family. Josh , Bill’s youngest son is the 1st XV captain of Arnold so we were supporting in opposite camps ! Unfortunately Josh was injured shortly before half-time and played no further part in the game that Stonyhurst won 13-0. We then moved on to Sedbergh School where the work element was to be held. On the Sunday morning a group of backs and 3 forwards were kind enough to help me film a DVD on the Dynamics of back play. This seemed to go pretty well and I am looking forward to seeing the proofs. After a pleasant evening at the home of Neil and Julia Rollings ( our hosts ) I ran a seminar on Coaching for 30 schoolmasters from the North of England – theory in the morning followed by a practical with a group of talented Sedbergh u 14 players. A great week-end catching up with and making new friends and , hopefully , putting together some thoughts and practices that will challenge coaches to look differently at coaching backs ! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=18 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=18 Much as I'd like to say that this season's Guinness Premiership has hit the ground running in the attacking sense, I can't pretend this is the case. With the single exception of London Irish, who have secured both of the try-scoring bonus points registered over the opening three rounds of the tournament, it's not clear that anyone is running anywhere with a genuine sense of purpose. I'm not picking on the English club game for the sake of it, but the majority of the rugby I'm watching at the moment comes from the Premiership, where ambition has been in short supply. Bold, imaginative attacking play does not automatically go hand in hand with a lack of defensive proficiency: London Irish have the third best defensive record in the country, so any notion that the two disciplines are mutually exclusive is flawed. We are talking here about a team who have developed, and committed themselves to, a set of values they feel will help them make the best of themselves. In short, they are playing with a positive mindset. How often do we hear modern-day coaches talking about "field position", as if territorial advantage is the only thing that matters. Agreed, it's generally better for a team to play in the opposition half rather than their own, but if this is the overriding philosophy how many attacking opportunities are being ignored? Surely there is some potential reward in attacking from 60 metres when the chance presents itself, not least because opponents are likely to be less switched-on defensively. Without naming names, it seems to me that some coaches actively discourage their players from taking this kind of chance. Over the years, I've thought long and hard about the key elements that underpin the kind of rugby I believe to be most effective in winning matches at the top level, and they come under four headings. The first is what I call the "whole pitch approach". Once you remove the inhibitions that people inevitably develop when they are told they can't do this or that in a certain area of the field, they begin to regard a game as a series of opportunities rather than threats. Why shouldn't they attack from 75 metres, just because they're only three points up in the last few minutes of a big game? Secondly, teams must adopt a "play to score" mentality – not only when they have the ball, but when they're without it. I have long believed that it is possible to defend with a view to scoring, usually by identifying turnover opportunities but also by concentrating aggressively on certain players who might be susceptible to mistakes in contact. Thirdly, I'm a great believer in "attacking space", either by running into it, driving into it or kicking into it. Here's an off-the-wall fact for you: given that a rugby pitch covers 7,000 square metres and each of the 30 players takes up a square metre each, along with the referee, there are 6,969 square metres of free space at even given moment – enough to hold 191 double-decker buses. (Yes, I've done the calculation). Of course, rugby is a game full of movement, played by people who are fit, fast and capable of closing down space extremely quickly. But provided the ball is passed or kicked correctly, it still moves at a greater speed than the most rapid wing, let alone a prop forward. The final ingredient is the "paradigm shift" – the ability to work out what the other side expects of you and then do the opposite. Muhammad Ali, my sporting hero, was a master of this, his famous world title victory over George Foreman being the most obvious example. I might also use the example of the former coach of the Australian cricket team, John Buchanan. I remember him giving a talk before the final Ashes Test of 2005, during which he was asked how he made an impact on a dressing room full of outstanding players when he himself had not played at their level and had failed to win a trophy while working with Middlesex. Was there not a credibility problem? He replied that he challenged the side to change the very nature of Test cricket by scoring at a rate of 4.5 an over. Sure enough, they took up that challenge and became one of the finest teams in the history of the game. Too often, coaches tell players that an attacking approach of the kind I have described is "too risky". I have an inkling that this serves as an excuse for lazy and indifferent coaching. If the technique is sound and the fear factor is removed, most things are possible. Wilkinson enjoying la diffιrence It will not have escaped the notice of rugby followers in England that Jonny Wilkinson is making an impact with Toulon in the French Top 14 tournament. I'm delighted for him, not least because, having lived through an injury nightmare since the World Cup-winning year of 2003, he deserves a run of luck. Of all the English players who have crossed the Channel, it seems to me that Jonny made his move at the right time, for the right reasons. He has travelled to Toulon with an open mind, keen to spend time in different surroundings, speaking a new language and soaking up a new culture. He will be the better for this new experience, and so, possibly, will the England Test team. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=17 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=17 Exactly two years ago, when I was coaching England at the World Cup in France, one of the serious issues we faced was a limited range of options at scrum-half, that most important of positions – my old position, as it happens, although that was in the dim and distant past. I wouldn't for a second wish to undervalue the contribution of Andy Gomarsall, who was one of the key figures in helping us reach the final against the expectations of a very significant majority, but Andy was already well into his thirties and therefore a shorter-term option. It seems times have changed for the better. Last weekend I saw an exciting performance from the young Wasps half-back Joe Simpson, who used his startling pace to great effect against Bath. Indeed, I'd say he was one of the principal differences between the two sides. When you bracket Simpson with the likes of Danny Care at Harlequins, Micky Young at Newcastle and Ben Youngs at Leicester, not to mention the two older scrum-halves in the elite England squad, Harry Ellis and Paul Hodgson, it is clear that in terms of numbers, what was once