The Bok coach finds his stage
Steve Morris
To say Nick Mallett has revitalised South African rugby is stating the obvious. But to claim that he has been solely responsible denigrates the work done before him by Kitch Christie and, it must be added, Ian McIntosh and Andre Markgraaff.
What Mallett has done is relaunch the game at a level that Christie achieved, that McIntosh was unable to – through the political infighting that handed him a mis- matched group of players not of his own choosing – that Markgraaff aspired to and that his predecessor, Carel du Plessis, was abjectly incapable of.
Mallett has done this by being his own man. And here it is pertinent to point out that Mallett – a bridge player good enough to have represented Oxford, for whom he also won rugby and cricket Blues – has not shuffled with too gay abandon the deck that the rapid departures of Markgraaff and Du Plessis left him.
True, he has had the foresight to bring in veteran centre Dick Muir as his midfield general, rediscovered the ball skills of Adrian Garvey to complement Os du Randt in the front row, successfully switched Percy Montgomery to fullback to cover the injuries to Andre Joubert and managed to find the catalyst which has turned Krynauw Otto from an anonymous entity at international level into a Test lock forward to be reckoned with.
But he has not done this through rugby skills alone. Mallett, if nothing else, is a manager with enviable talents. Witness to this is his decision to make Joost van der Westhuizen the Springbok vice-captain. It turned a player who had expressed doubts about the new coach into a true believer in the cause, and rekindled and refined a rare and mercurial genius for the good of the team.
Likewise, who but Mallett would have had the foresight – some would call it gall – to make the oft-errant James Small the team’s entertainment manager? It showed respect for Small’s world-class talents and took any edge off the spectre of unauthorised nightclubbing which has cost this country’s most-capped player so dear in the past.
Mallett has a hold on the hearts of the players for much the same reasons as Christie: he knows what he is talking about, tells it straight, and yet maintains that vital distance the man in charge must buffer himself with from those he commands.
But where Christie was an understated individual in many respects, Mallett is larger than life. It showed in his playing days as a huge, rumbustious and often unstoppable eighthman for Western Province, and in the two Tests he played against the South Americans in 1984.
Mallett, even with his degrees from UCT and Oxford, was more of a physical than a cerebral forward, commanding respect for his prowess on the drive and, la Jonah Lomu, the fact that it generally took more than one opposition player to stop him.
This facet of a man of many parts shows in his directness. A two-fingered salute to the national selectors after being dropped is perhaps the most remembered aspect of his unwillingness to suffer those he considers fools.
It is this aspect which has probably led to the charge that he is difficult with the media. In France, a country he knows well from his nearly eight years as a player and coach, this has not been evident. His command of the Gallic tongue and willingness to talk rugby has made him, if you will excuse the pun, something of a media magnet.
His directness extended on the current tour of Europe to openly discussing the failings of an individual player in his assessment of the hapless Wium Basson after the match against the French Barbarians in Biarritz.
“It may be harsh to single out one player,” he said of Basson’s over-the-top exuberance, “but he deserves it. I don’t know what kind of testosterone-driven madness got into him.” Mallett’s analysis was that Basson had cost the team 10 points, stemming directly from flying into the ruck.
He also had little hesitation in sending Toks van der Linde home for some unauthorised tap-dancing on French heads. He could have appealed the ban, but chose not to.
“The player knows what that has cost him and what it has cost the team,” was the way Mallett saw it. There it was again, the team before the individual.
Discipline under Mallett is a two-edged blade. He has enforced a system whereby the players themselves handle discipline off the field. They love it. As Otto puts it, “He treats us like men.” On the training ground it is a different matter altogether and, like Christie before him, he is a believer in the despotism of sweat and tears.
But this unremitting effort led to the glorious rugby which fuelled the record 52- 10 devastation of the French at the Parc des Princes last weekend.
The coach, a lover of theatre in his spare time, had found his stage, the actors had played their roles to perfection and, if the man’s stubborn determination has anything to do with it, the Nick Mallett Springbok show is set for a long run.
Vital Statistics
Born: June 30 1956, in Hertfordshire, England
Ambition: To be a good husband and father. To retain the World Cup “with honour” in 1999. Mallett says that, actually, he is not a very ambitious person. “Honestly, I just take things as they come and try and enjoy life”
Favourite car: Not a person who attaches much importance to wheels, he will drive “anything as long as it starts in the morning and gets me where I want to be”. Currently he uses a “rickety old” VW Golf for this purpose
Favourite people: Any person who is honest and attaches importance to integrity will impress the coach. After last Saturday’s routing of France, he almost admitted naming the entire Springbok squad as favourites