SCD Southwest - The Latest Blog from SCD Southwest http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php 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 Français 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 Lièvremont 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 Français 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 Français, 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 Clément 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 élan 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 Lièvremont, 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 Français? 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 Français 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. Frédéric 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 différence 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 a problem area is much less so now. In fact, we may have the strongest bank of No 9s since Matt Dawson, Kyran Bracken, Austin Healey and a much younger Gomarsall were striving to catch the eye of successive England coaches. But resources are one thing, finished articles quite another. The challenge for all those who covet the Test shirt is to keep improving the technical side of their game – technique is the first thing that slips when the pressure comes on – while developing the more abstract, less easily defined attributes that separate the best from the rest. Here's an illustration. One of the eye-catching things about Simpson at Bath was his footwork: by getting his feet in the right place before passing, he was able to sweep the ball away quickly and in one movement – not a dying art, perhaps, but one increasingly rare among modern scrum-halves. By comparison, the finest half-back in the world, Fourie du Preez of South Africa, has a good service rather than an electric one. But Du Preez brings other qualities to a team: an acute understanding of the game, which stems in part from the fact that he is one of the keenest and most inquisitive students of rugby I've ever met, and an ability to shape a match to his side's requirements. In some respects, I see the No 9 as rugby's version of the Test wicketkeeper. Ideally, he should have what I call the three Vs: he must be vivacious, vigilant and vocal. I like my scrum-halves to be demanding of the people around them, to set the mood and be able to lift a team, to keep it alive during the dark moments of a game. They should also be tough, disciplined characters who are completely comfortable with the fact that, as a scrum-half is always in the line of fire, he has no hiding place. If Rod Marsh, who spent years behind the stumps for Australia, had played rugby union rather than cricket, he'd have been a scrum-half. I spent some valuable time with Rod while he was running the national cricket academy here and I was setting up the rugby version, and I saw immediately that he was a natural communicator. I suppose you could say he was born to keep wicket, and it occurs to me that scrum-halves are also born rather than made. A little like hookers and open-side flankers, they have the position in their blood. Top-class scrum-halves have been known to take on different roles and make a fist of it, Healey being a classic example, but very few players move to No 9 from elsewhere and master the art. The question is, will this new generation of bright English No 9s produce someone really special? A player like Chris Laidlaw, the New Zealand scrum-half of the 1960s who invented the spin-pass and left the rest of us struggling to catch up, or the brilliant Dave Loveridge, another All Black who astonished me with his speed of service? Or maybe even a Fourie du Preez? I'd like to think so, but there's a long way to go yet. Booth has courage of conviction By common consent, London Irish are playing some of the most effective rugby around. Is it any coincidence that they are also among the most ambitious clubs in the Premiership? I don't think so. We hear so much from coaches who profess not to care how their team play as long as they win that it was refreshing to hear something different from Toby Booth (right), who guided the Exiles to the Premiership final last season and looks like producing a team to be reckoned with once again. After the convincing victory over Gloucester last weekend, Toby talked about the importance of his team showing some commitment to the idea they have of themselves. As they are one of the few sides confident enough to attack from any area of the field, I hope they stick to their guns. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=16 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=16 I was struck by the comments of Bryan Redpath, the director of rugby at Gloucester, after his team's emphatic win over Bath on the opening Sunday of the new Premiership season. He spoke afterwards of "player responsibility" – an important subject about which many coaches up and down the country talk a good deal, but only in the sense of paying it lip service. Bryan was absolutely correct in saying that when players take the field, what happens next is down to them. But how many people in the professional game genuinely take this seriously? It seems to me that many coaches are still obsessed with another, very different idea: that of the game plan. I've never had much liking for "game plans". In a sport as dynamic and full of movement as rugby union, any expectation of a game going completely to plan is totally unrealistic. Yet so much training time is spent putting together a "plan" without any thought being given as to what might happen if, as generally happens, that plan fails to work. When players spend all week preparing to follow a very specific tactical blueprint, is it really surprising that they struggle when they're suddenly asked to think on their feet? Not so long ago, I found myself in discussion with Graham Henry, the head coach of the All Blacks. When I asked him what made Dan Carter the brilliant outside-half he is, Graham replied immediately: "He can coach the team on the field." In other words, Carter has such a highly developed understanding of the nuances of a game as it unfolds, and such an awareness of the different options available in any given situation, he can adjust his side's approach to suit the moment. Adaptability is the key word here. The more structured the rugby environment, the less adaptable a team is likely to be. Educationalists talk about people becoming dependent learners rather than involved learners and I see this in modern-day rugby all the time. Why does it frustrate me? Because it inhibits people. It is far more challenging, and ultimately far better, for a coach to encourage freedom of thought and interpretation – to offer players a tactical framework rather than weigh them down with tablets of stone. During Clive Woodward's time with England, he ran a little experiment with myself and Phil Larder, the defence coach, asking me how I'd attack Phil's defence and asking Phil how he'd defend against my attack. Phil said he couldn't be confident of answering, because he considered me "unpredictable". It was the biggest compliment anyone ever paid me in my coaching career. It was Clive who first used visits to the Royal Marines as part of England's preparation for major tournaments. The Marines are massively into individual leadership and talk constantly of performing in the face of "dislocated expectations". You can see their point. In the middle of a battle, it's a bit difficult to say: "Let's stop fighting for a minute or two while I get my head around this situation I didn't see coming." I repeat: rugby is about making the right judgements under pressure, not following an instruction manual. Watching last weekend's round of Premiership matches, I was highly impressed by Shane Geraghty's performance for Northampton against Worcester. Shane moved from inside centre to outside-half midway through the second half and took the game by the scruff of the neck. His decision-making, allied to his excellent range of skills, was central to Northampton's victory and, to my mind, it was the performance of an intelligent, intuitive player. In short, he took responsibility in a difficult situation and found a way of guiding his team through it. Responsibility in rugby matters in a variety of different ways. By getting himself sent off within 40 seconds of the start of the Harlequins-Wasps match, George Robson acted with a high degree of irresponsibility. I'm reluctant to point the finger: for all I know, this was completely out of character. But Quins, who have quite enough on their plate, hardly needed to play all but a minute of a big derby game with an important forward sitting in the dressing room. Going back to Northampton, I see they've given Dylan Hartley the captaincy. I worked with Dylan at the national academy and I know him well. There's no denying that he has a wild streak, but he is also an outstanding rugby player blessed with considerable natural gifts. In the past, opponents have gone after Dylan and provoked a reaction. He cannot afford to react now. By giving him added responsibility, his coach, Jim Mallinder, is attempting to ensure that his energy and aggression are properly channelled and focused. I'll be disappointed if it doesn't work out that way. Read Brian's views in the Independent every Saturday or log on to: www.independent.co.uk/sport/rugby-union http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=15 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=15 During late August and early September this year the first Brian Ashton rugby Academy took place based on the Chateau du Molay in Calvados, Normandy, France. The concept was born from an idea of Edwin Doran’s of the sports travel company of the same name and developed ( as many of the best ideas are ) in a conversation over a pub lunch ! The object was to give schools an opportunity to travel outside England and prepare for the upcoming rugby season through a 5 day pre-season training camp at the Chateau. Edwin Doran’s company sorted out all the logisitics and I provided coaching on/off field wherever it was required. The Chateau is situated just outside the village of Molay , 15 minutes from Bayeux and 45 from Caen both of which were used as alternative training venues. The Chateau staff could not have been more helpful in ensuring that needs were met during our stay. Accommodation was basic but more than adequate ( not as basic as a Blue Bulls pre-season camp I attended in South Africa 4 years ago ! ) and the food was both copious and excellent. A brand new Rugby pitch had been laid that will obviously mature as time passes but given the lack of rain stood up pretty well to full on 8 hours a day use over the 18 days. It was 2 minutes walk from the Chateau. I was able to spend 3 x 2 hour sessions with each school during their 5 day stay and the sessions combined both introductory classroom work with coaching on the pitch. The school coaches took a full part in these sessions. The content varied slightly from school to school but the common theme through the 18 days was one of player responsibility from first to final whistle in both match and training time. Spoon feeding coaching was definitely not encouraged ! The more senior players of school first XV’s were encouraged to lead sessions in the latter part of their stay. SESSION CONTENTS Backs Integrated sessions including; • Techniques • Decision making • Communication • Attacking Space • Counter attack • Different starting formations Team • Dealing with turn-over ball • Attacking Space • Communication (static and dynamic ) • Chaos to order practices • Attacking organisation • Defensive organisation • Team attack framework • Integrating the kicking game As mentioned earlier these sessions were run both indoors and outdoors at the request of the staff and all sessions were discussed the previous evening with the coaches concerned. Matches of different varieties were played between the visiting schools and often the laws were tweaked to enable the schools to focus on particular principles of play. A disappointment was that the French ( except on one occasion ) failed to produce opposition for the more senior players. This will be addressed next year. All in all a fairly successful beginning to a new venture. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=14 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=14 Tackling the issues: A new column from the coach who took England to the 2007 World Cup final – read it every Saturday in the Independent A few months ago, before the Harlequins blood capsule scandal and the deeply disappointing end-of-season problems at Bath, the biggest controversy in English rugby concerned the exodus of players from the Guinness Premiership to the Top 14 tournament in France. Some of the biggest names in the domestic game – Jonny Wilkinson at one end of the age scale, James Haskell at the other, and a good few in between – signalled a desire to cross the Channel. As a result, a lot of people, not least at the Rugby Football Union, grew very hot under the collar. One of those expressing alarm was Rob Andrew, the director of elite rugby. That interested me. It was not so very long ago that Rob, very much a key figure for England at that point, spent a few months honing his skills and broadening his horizons in Toulouse. It didn't seem to do him any harm. Indeed, I remember him playing outside-half for Wasps at the Recreation Ground while I was coaching Bath in the mid-1990s and contributing magnificently to one of the most dynamic games of club rugby I'd seen in years. We won 9-6, which doesn't sound very exhilarating, but believe me, there was something special about the rugby played by both sides that day, and I recall thinking at the time that Rob's approach had a lot to do with the things he had learned in Toulouse. I've thought long and hard about this issue of players moving abroad in an effort to identify the negative aspects and if I'm honest, I'm still struggling. I'm sure some people went to France purely for the big money currently available on that side of the water, but it is my belief that the majority went for different, better reasons – reasons that might be summarised as an enrichment of experience, both on and off the field. I can't help but see the positives in that, for I've long been of the opinion that if a player takes himself out of his comfort zone and spends time in a new and challenging environment, he reaps a significant benefit. Thirty years ago, towards the back end of my playing career, I had the great good fortune to play rugby in France, for the club then known as Montferrand (Clermont Auvergne in today's language), and in Italy, with Rome and Milan. What effect did it have on me? Let's put it his way: I found myself discussing rugby with, and learning from, the likes of Carwyn James and Pierre Villepreux, two of the great coaches in rugby history. You might say it was a sporting education. It expanded my understanding of the possibilities of the game and helped sustain me through my own career in coaching. Of course, the sport has changed dramatically in the decades since, but the thing that never changes is the value of developing as a person. Generally speaking, the best rugby players are also the most rounded individuals. If a talented young forward such as Haskell wants to get out of London and test himself in the very different kind of atmosphere of a club as high-profile and ambitious as Stade Français, I would prefer to encourage him in his spirit of adventure than put a chain around his ankle. Certainly, I would expect him to return much changed, and much improved. One consequence of Haskell and one or two others leaving England was their omission from the Elite Player Squad announced in the summer. I can't help wondering if there is not an incoherence here. Wilkinson is playing, very successfully it appears, in Toulon, while Riki Flutey has moved to Brive. These two players are still in the EPS. Either some confused thinking is going on, or there are other reasons for the dropping of Haskell, Tom Palmer and Jamie Noon. Yes, I understand that those in charge of the national team want easy access to their leading players and would no doubt prefer the likes of Haskell to be playing his rugby down the road. But France hardly qualifies as the other side of the world. Besides, most rugby people seem to have access to satellite broadcasting these days and can watch as much French action as they like. If the Haskells and Palmers are performing brilliantly for Stade Français, it should not be beyond the resources of the England hierarchy to watch them doing it one way or another. If I have a regret about my own playing days, it is that I didn't go the whole hog and spend some time in the southern hemisphere. That would have toughened me up, both mentally and physically. Thirty years on, I'd hate to think professional players felt obliged to stay in one place, thinking and doing things the same way from one season to the next. If rugby is about anything, it's about embracing something new, not just as a player or a coach, but as a person. www.independent.co.uk/sport/rugby/rugby-union/news http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=13 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=13 From the 2nd to the 7th August I spent a fascinating week with the International rugby academy ( Run by Murray Mexted ex- All Black number 8 ) in Glendale , Colorado , USA. Glendale has a brand new sporting facility with state of the art facilities surrounding a pitch dedicated to Rugby Union. It is an oasis in the land of American Football , Basketball and Baseball. Two courses for Players and Coaches ran parallel and interacted whenever possible. It was a hectic week as the course had been shortened to fit in with local circumstances so working days began at 8.00 am and finished at 8.30 pm ! The majority of the participants of both courses were from the USA / North America and most had a remarkable enthusiasm for the development of the game in the USA. We had a visit from Kevin Roberts CEO of Saatchi Saatchi international who is also the Chairman of USA Rugby. I discovered that we had been pupils at the Royal Grammar School in Lancaster together in the 1960’s and have many friends in common from that area ! The glamour on the courses was provided by 3 ex All Black icons of the sport; Sean Fitzpatrick , Grant Fox and Christian Cullen. As well as offering unique insights into their positions and New Zealand rugby at the top level they were outstanding company over a period of 3 days during the week. As ever the opportunity to mix with people in the game from diverse cultures and backgrounds is a humbling and enlightening experience and one that I can wholeheartedly recommend to Players and Coaches around the world who wish to explore the game differently. My next opportunity with IRANZ will take me to South Africa in December – another marvelous chance to rub shoulders with some of the excellent thinkers in world Rugby ! Feedback on IRANZ: From a distance I am aware that you have done a tremendous job. I had an extremely positive email from Sean Fitzpatrick, who really enjoyed his time at Glendale and I know that Grant Fox really enjoyed working with you. Thank you all for your contribution and input into the programme. You have worked tirelessly, I hope that the coaches and players involved on the course have gained tremendous benefit from their IRANZ/Glendale experience. STEVE MCHARDY General Manager International Rugby Academy On my flight home I had time to think about my experience at the IRANZ course, and my best memory by far was the opportunity to meet and interact with you. I thank you again for sharing your insight and knowledge, and for inspiring me to challenge myself as a coach. I also took more time to visit your website and to look at the work you are preparing to do with the schools. It would be interesting to see the work that you do with the athletes, and I would love to have the opportunity to learn from you further. Natascha Wesch Canadian 7's Coach I just want to say thankyou again for your assistance during the course. It made me assess the way I have been coaching, in a totally positive way, and I am the first to admit that after attending the course, that I could approach my coaching in different manner. On the flights back to Ireland I definately was assessing my coaching methodology. I spoke with my School, Kilkenny College, and they are very interested in exploring the avenue of attending your Academy in France next year. We will have a look at your website in the next couple of weeks and get back to you. Thankyou again for your assistance during the course mate, and best of luck with the new Academy. JASON JONES IRANZ Coach I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for your time on the IRANZ coache’s course. Thank you for sharing your knowledge and depth of experience so openly with us. You truly have given me some ideas/ goals as a copach to aspire towards. I learnt as much on the course from your facilitation and discussions as I did from the specialist sessions – something I have shared with Murray. Steve Tarr STarr Painting Drywall (MWBE/SBE) IRANZ Coach http://createsend.nvinteractive.co.nz/T/ViewEmail/r/0C501356232C4BFF/6586A810449F921CD9767B6002735221 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=12 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=12 Spent an interesting and eventually very enjoyable 2 days earlier this week running a 2 day Rugby Academy at St. Edward’s School , Oxford on behalf of the Independent Schools Coach Education. I had the valuable assistance of Evan Stewart ex – captain of Loughborough Students. Dodging the showers on the first morning we had decided to base the 2 days around and fun / learning experience and , therefore , spent the majority of the day working through games based scenarios highlighting various aspects of play. This was obviously a different approach for the players ( 11 – 13 year olds ) but one that they eventually grasped with relish. The second day saw some split backs and forwards work before again to reverting to playing in teams to promote all the benefits of Game Understanding that this can bring. Interestingly the players were desperate to do some full on contact work and an interesting conversation ensued as to the wisdom of them at such an early age looking at Rugby as a game that is based around contact instead of avoidance of contact !!! The 2 days were very informative for me as to how the game is perceived and introduced to young players. St. Edward’s was, as ever, a welcoming and excellent venue for such an occasion. Feedback from the day!: Hi Sarah - my boys were totally blown away by Brian! How he managed to convince them that non-contact rugby is far better than contact I have NO idea....he is blessed with special powers that I am grateful for! Please,please,please if you are running anything else with Brian/rugby could you contact us so the boys can come again? Many thanks and have a great summer Alison Telling http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=11 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=11 On the afternoon of Saturday 11th July , as part of my business / rugby day I took a session that was a part of a Colts Challenge which the club organizes each Summer. As the players had previously had coaching from the Sale Sharks Academy staff and players on various techniques and unit skills of the game I decided to centre my session around creating some order from chaos in phase play and then moving on to playing in Attack and Defence from turn – over ball. It was clear that this games based approach was different for the players and they took some time to come to terms with the dynamism and decision – making required. However towards the end of the session there were clear signs that the messages were being taken on board. Interestingly the communication levels between the players became more vocal and intelligently game related as the afternoon progressed , so that good information was being passed between the players as the practices were in progress. The players also became far more comfortable with the questioning approach I adopted ( as opposed to the telling ! ) and this helped to produce a higher level of understanding of the principles of play we were focusing on. At the end a player approached me and commented that the practices were like the game itself ! I have always thought that this was the underpinning factor of Coaching ? For more information on Winnington Park click on the link below. www.wprfc.com http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=10 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=10 I have delivered two presentations recently on the above topic. This is not leadership from a text book but from a combination of a lifetimes experience drawn from my own adventures and working with and under others in all areas of life. Whilst leadership can come in many forms there is little doubt in my mind that having both the Courage to Fail and the ability to Adapt to changing and unexpected circumstances immediately are two consistent characteristics of outstanding leadership. The two venues were very different in situation and audience. The first was the University of Warwick where I presented for the Football Association on their UEFA pro – licence coaching award course. I was in distinguished footballing company with the likes of Gareth Southgate and Mike Phelan present. The second was at Sherborne school in Dorset where my presentation rounded off a week’s experience for a group of 100 15/16 year old pupils and 10 staff. They had spent time away on Brownsea Island working on leadership and team building. Both experiences were very enjoyable and thoroughly rewarding from a personal angle. The opportunity to meet and talk with people of different ages and experience and from differing walks of life continues to make life very interesting and challenging. http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=9 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=9 Spent an interesting afternoon and evening at Christ’s Hospital School in Sussex on Friday 19th June. I had been invited by Sean Davey (Premiership Referee and member of staff ) to run a coaching session with the squad of players from the school who are off on tour to Australia this Summer. The players worked hard and with intelligence throughout the session which was based largely on Principles of play and decision making through games. Seventy five minutes of this also provided a good cardiovascular work out !!! In the evening a dinner was held in the remarkable school dining room to raise money for the trip. It was well attended by approximately 370 people of all ages and both sexes. The dining room is remarkable in that it can seat the whole school (800 pupils + ) at one sitting and has the largest unsupported roof of any building in Europe ! As the acoustics were tricky in such a grand room I addressed the diners from the pulpit featured in the centre of one of the long side walls. A brand new and exciting experience. The whole experience was very enjoyable; firstly I met an ex pupil of my vintage from Lancaster Royal Grammar not seen since 1962! He was the holder of the Long plunge school record and captain of the swimming team that year; secondly I was fortunate enough to be seated at the same table as Bob and Janet Rogers. Bob was president of England rugby in my first year as Head Coach. Thirdly, there was an excellent social get together at the end of the evening that ensured a good finish to the day. Christ’s Hospital is a unique school, not least in the uniform that both boy and girl pupils wear. In the days when I had a real job as a schoolmaster at King’s School, Bruton we met Christ’s at the Rosslyn park sevens schools tournament. A friendship developed and eventually Rugby fixtures between the two school first teams were arranged. The Christ’s boys made quite an impact on their first visit to the sleepy Somerset town of Bruton wearing their unique uniforms. The whole town, it appeared, turned out to see them on the streets thinking that this was part of the set of a Charles Dickens film ! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=8 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=8 When I spent time in Italy recently I was invited to watch the National under 19 final of the Italian Rugby Federation. These were , one assumes , the two best sides of that age group in the country. From a coaching perspective it was fascinating to see the two sides operate when the ball became “ ALIVE “ outside the set pieces – how decisions were made and how they manoeuvred themselves around the field. In fact , they did not actually manoeuvre themselves at all but were very clearly being operated by two very passionate and vocal coaches patrolling the touch line for the whole of the game. It was a classic example of Autocratic coaching in action. Decisions either made in certain situations or areas of the pitch before the game commenced and carried through irrespective of the match in progress. Additionally the coaches shouted instructions at the players at almost every break in play so that the responsibility and decision making on the field was taken solely out of the players’ hands. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall in the two changing rooms at the end of the game to see who took the credit for winning and the blame for losing !!! Brian http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=6 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=6 On Saturday 30th May I presented to the Level 3 / 4 coaches from the whole of Italy on the topic of transition rugby – how to play when you win or lose the ball in phase play. The presentation was done completely in Italian which, fortunately , has still not deserted me ! Also present were all the National Coaches of the Italian teams, including Nick Mallett , the Head Coach of the senior team. I attempted to make the presentation as interactive as possible, giving the Italian coaches the opportunity to air their views , but with mixed success. As with most coaches at events such as this there is a reluctance to speak in public. However this allowed me to talk also about the relationship between the coaches and players that allows both to realise their full potential. This certainly provided a more animated discussion amongst the coaches as to which methodology was the best. I then took a 60 minute session with 20 under 18 regional players from Lazio on understanding the principles behind creating order from chaos on the field initially, then moving to the principles of transition rugby. Despite the heat at mid-day and the fact that I was coaching in Italian the players surprised me with their enthusiasm and ability. A question and answer session followed with the coaches which highlighted once again the different approaches used throughout Italy. On the Saturday evening I watched the play – off final between Benetton Treviso and Arix Viadana. A close encounter won in the last 10 minutes by Benetton. My final official engagement was on the Monday evening when I was invited by the Italian Rugby Federation to the “Event”, which involved saying farewell and good luck to the Italian Squad just before their departure to Australia and New Zealand on a pretty tough Summer tour ! It was great to catch up with the Coaches and the players that I have got to know over the years through England. The Event took place in the middle of the pitch at Stadio Flaminio where the 6 nations home fixtures are played. A fantastic evening ending with a glorious firework display that lit up the sky of Rome! http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=5 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=5 Kate Eddy (ASCC) Head Strength Conditioning Coach Team Bath Brian Ashton joined Team Bath in 2008 as a consultant Director of Coaching where he works alongside Team Bath's coaches and support staff, in the areas of coach development and education applying his expertise in the principals of high level performance. Lancastrian Ashton was born in Leigh and went to school in Leigh and Lancaster before studying History and Education at Leicester University. He went on to become a teacher and then rugby coach after a playing career which included an England touring side selection. Ashton coached Bath Rugby either as Assistant or Head Coach between 1989 and 1997. He also coached Ireland before moving on to an assistant role with England and then shouldered the main role when England reached the World Cup final in 2007 and 2008. He was England National Academy Manager from 2002 – 2006 where he had unparalleled success in identifying and nurturing young players who have since gone on to full England or Saxons representation. Over the past few months Team Bath’s strength and conditioning coaches have been able to benefit from working with Brian in the discussion and analysis of coaching approaches and skills in strength and conditioning. During these sessions Brian has challenged the team and individuals within the team to explore a range of methods and approaches in coaching strength and conditioning sessions, reflect upon their skills and performances and integrate strength and conditioning within high performance training environments. The following interview was conducted in May this year, and I hope it will promote the importance of the coaching process within the S C profession as well as offering a fascinating insight into Brain’s approach and philosophy towards high performance sports coaching. KE: How would you describe your philosophy or approach to coaching? And can you explain how it developed? BA: I’ll start with the second part of your question. It’s taken me a long period of time to arrive at my present position. I’ve been coaching since 1969 when I started teaching which is 40 Years ago. I like to think of myself as a facilitative coach, someone who facilitates learning environments in which players and teams can improve. I very much buy into the principal that players and management take a joint ownership of what they’re doing, and that coaches who only dictate to players are missing a trick. So I think that’s probably where I stand at the moment, but it’s taken quite a while to get there because I actually began, as most school teachers do and unfortunately most of them stay, as do a lot of coaches, on the dictatorial side of things where they say: “I want to be in control”, “this is the way you do it”, “it’s my way or the highway”, “if you don’t like it then tough luck”. The bizarre thing that I’ve discovered in professional rugby is that a lot of professional players prefer to be told what to do because it’s a fantastic fall back position for them if things go wrong. They then have someone to blame rather than accept any responsibility themselves. I find this very sad as I feel these players never even remotely achieve their full potential. KE: I think it can be similar in S C coaching which is what we will be getting on to. So how did you get to this approach? BA: I suppose really it’s been hidden away inside me for years. I was brought up in a south Lancashire terraced coal mining community which was my background to actually learning to play games. I wasn’t coached at all, we used to play 4-a-side, 4v3, 5v4 touch rugby league on a cobbled street, there was no referee, there were no coaches, we picked our own teams, we had pretty poor equipment, but we had the most fantastic fun, I played in 3 rugby league challenge cup finals before the age of 7! We had complete responsibility for everything that went on and I am pretty sure that philosophy stuck with me and has surfaced during my coaching development. I firmly believe that coaches must involve players in planning and implementation of strategy and tactics so when they actually get into the arena of competition they are comfortable in implementing a game in which they have had an input. KE: and do you think its confidence or bravery to actually take the step to coaching like that, or did it just evolve? BA: Well it did evolve but I think there is an element of courage in it; a coach needs to have the courage to fail. It can be a great springboard for future success. I’ve been down blind alleys, and I think it’s the way that my sort of coaching evolves. The authoritative coach who likes to be in total control actually very often has a weak personality because he or she doesn’t like to be challenged and will just continue to coach in the same way all the way through their careers. How dull and boring must that be? KE: You’ve obviously had a lot of success developing other coaches through the RFU national academy and in the work that you are doing now. Can you describe the approach that you take when working with other coaches? BA: Yes well bizarrely enough I’ve just come off the back of an hour and a half working with one of the netball coaches here, Jo Binns, and we’ve done what I call the blank paper exercise. This is something that should be done on a regular basis. All that is required is a blank sheet of A4 and an hour to discuss past, future and creative ways of coaching in whatever sport. Effectively we are trying to change the nature of how we coach and how any game is played. It is very important to be reflective and futuristic at the same time otherwise a coach can very easily sit in the comfort zone and remain there. So I think being critical is very important, having someone, and not necessarily someone who’s involved in your sport, to reflect with and challenge you is essential. I have a mentor, who challenges me on a regular basis, I’m actually seeing him tomorrow, an ex-commander from the special forces, (Special Boat Services). He challenges me in a developmental questioning sort of way: “why did you do that? Could you have found a better way? Are you still coaching as you did last year? If so, why? Is your coaching style the same as the last person who coached you?” The last question I think is very pertinent because many coaches adopt the method of their own coach which means that it is very difficult to make any progress in developing the sport. So it’s a case of constantly challenging coaches. I learned a lot from John Buchanan, the Australian test cricket coach. He was appointed never having played International Cricket, having a spell without great success at Middlesex, but he got the top job in World Cricket. I asked him what was your opening remark to the Australian squad when you first met them? He said “I asked them to change the nature of test match cricket; to score four and a half runs an over from the very first ball of the next test” The players accepted the challenge and succeeded with it! KE: Why do you think coaching style or coaching approach could be important in strength and conditioning coaching? BA: Well, I’m not an expert in strength and conditioning coaching, although I’ve worked with some very good ones in the sphere of rugby, but I obviously know other strength and conditioning coaches like yourself who I’ve worked with different ways. It’s always struck me, and I may be completely wide of the mark here, no doubt you’ll tell me, but actually strength and conditioning probably lends itself to a fairly disciplined approach, because of the nature of the work involved. However my thoughts are that there is still an element in strength and conditioning coaching where the athlete can play a significant role. Only through this do I feel that the coach and the athlete can have the sort of working relationship where both can achieve their full potential. KE: So from what you know having worked with other strength and conditioning coaches, can you think of an example of how the strength and conditioning profession would improve by developing coaching skills? BA: Yes, I’ve seen it in action. I worked with Dave Reddin who was the strength and conditioning coach for England rugby for a number of years. He came from a football background, but was very proactive in discovering as much as he could about the game of rugby. It was really important that he was the main figure in team warm ups before training sessions and games. Over the years we developed warm ups that combined Physiology, Neurology and Technical and Game Understanding elements. These let to a natural progression into the sessions or matches. KE: In which case, how expert do you think an S C coach has to be in the sport that they’re involved in? BA: Obviously it is very difficult to become an “expert” but I think that it is important for S C coaches to integrate closely with the coaching staff so that conditioning and warm ups are relevant to the demands of the game that the players are going to play. KE: As a rugby coach when you’ve worked with strength and conditioning professionals do you see them as a support service or as part of the coaching team? BA: I think its very important that they are both seen as a support service and also an integral part of the management team. Just like any other element of the team ie medical, the work that they do needs to push players towards achieving the vision of the coach. What is vital is that the strength and conditioning coaches dovetail with the technical staff to make sure that their work is in line with how the players are going to play, ie a conditioning programme that is strength and power based does not necessarily suit a game that is CV based and vice versa. KE: But again they need to have that link with the coach to understand the outcome, the game plan. BA: Well precisely yes, they need to be part and parcel of what the coaches thoughts are. This is how I want to play, this is why I want to play like it, and this is the sort of player I’d like to produce if possible. KE: In some areas of the S C profession the terms ‘specialist’ and ‘scientist’ are sometimes used rather than ‘coach’, so I find it quite interesting that you consider the coaching side to be very important and that it is maybe the most important part. BA: I do think its important and I do get concerned about the number of specialists operating in top level sport especially in technical areas. It still does not seem to stop them pontificating about how the overall game should be played even though their role often means they don’t see the bigger picture. KE: Which potentially could be a dangerous route that S C coaches could get caught up in if they don’t become part of the team and they just focus in on strength or power or whichever part. BA: precisely, yes. KE: Ok finally, do you have some specific examples, and can you describe a best practice or ground breaking example of coaching that you’ve seen within strength and conditioning practice? With someone you’ve worked with or heard about. BA: Yes, during the preparation phase for the 2007 World Cup, a knee specialist from America, Bill Knowles, did some unique work with three of our players. All three were recovering from serious leg injuries. In the normal course of events none of the three should have been fit for selection. Ultimately all three were. He did a lot of field and games based rehab work allied to the strength work he was doing in the gym. Certainly I had never seen anyone operate and push players to their limits in this way before. I definitely think there is the capacity for inventiveness in every coach be it technical, tactical or strength and conditioning. But because many coaches like to sit in control in a comfort zone they never push themselves nor the people around them. They do not have the courage to fail and so inevitably limit their own and their players success. “He who does not dare to take risks achieves nothing in life”. Muhammad Ali http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=4 http://www.scdsouthwest.co.uk/blog.php?blogId=4