KEY POINTS:
It might be a hoary old fable but Warriors staff would do well to consider it in their rehabilitation of Manu Vatuvei.
As the story goes, a lower league football manager, whose side were being dismantled by the opposition, saw one of his players being carried off with
concussion. At halftime, the doctor told him the prognosis was not good.
"He's conscious but can't remember who he is," the doctor said. "Well, tell him he's Pele," replied the manager, "and send him back on."
Somebody needs to tell Vatuvei, after his horror performance last Monday when he literally handed the match to Parramatta, that he's Billy Boston. Or Matt King. Or at least the Manu Vatuvei that won the 2005 International Newcomer of the Year award.
For sportspeople, especially professionals, it's all about confidence and Vatuvei looked a beaten man on Monday night. Even his opposition took pity on him and Eric Grothe jnr simply patted the winger on the back after another spilled bomb last week.
Of course, Vatuvei isn't the only player to experience a meltdown.
His performance has been compared to Steve Mavin's 16 minutes of infamy playing for Souths in the 1987 minor semifinal against Canberra. In that 960 seconds, Canberra scored two tries from Mavin's comical blunders, prompting coach George Piggins to drag him from the field before halftime - despite the fact it was in the days before interchanges.
Vatuvei has always been prone to handling errors, and clearly has some technical issues to address, given that he clutches at the ball rather than cradling it. But it seems the biggest issue is inside his head.
Mental skills trainer Dave Hadfield is contracted to the NZRU and does extensive work with rugby sides both here and overseas.
He has recently returned from an 11-week stint with English county cricket side Warwickshire, coached by former New Zealand batsman Mark Greatbatch.
"The body is driven to follow what the mind says," Hadfield says. "You have to teach players to let go of mistakes and play in the here and now. But that is easier said than done.
"If a kick comes a player's way and they stuffed up last time, and they have an image of dropping the ball, they are in big trouble."
Dr Chris Button, director of the human performance centre at Otago University, agreed and said there is widespread evidence that high levels of anxiety can lead to the breakdown of co-ordination.
He used the example of someone performing a simple rockclimbing task 50cm above ground and then trying to do the same task 500m above the ground.
"Even very skilled people can freeze up and become virtual novices when there are severe consequences," he said.
For Vatuvei, the key is to switch the focus of attention to the task and not the consequences nor become distracted by opposition players. He needs to ensure he doesn't over-complicate matters.
England rugby international Jonny Wilkinson switches his focus when he's goalkicking to a woman he calls Doris in a seat he can 'see' between the posts so he doesn't become distracted by what's happening around him. Likewise, Grant Fox used to say to himself "head down, follow through" when goalkicking so he didn't become bogged down by detail.
Hadfield offered a technique he often uses to simulate pressure. It involves a number of people yelling abuse or whacking the person with foam or tackle bags as a kick or pass comes a player's way.
"Build it up so that it's practised and then add emotional pressure, like competing against a mate with the loser having to buy dinner or do 100 press-ups," Hadfield explains. "You can't simulate what a game is exactly like but you can give it a good shake.
"Sometimes a player will never get over it but there are very few occasions when a player, with the proper assistance, can't be helped."
Hadfield also uses hypnosis with sportspeople, with the intention of wiping negative thoughts that have infiltrated the sub-conscious. He uses positive imagery while his subjects are hypnotised, telling them they "soar like an eagle" or the ball "sticks to your hands like glue".
The Warriors regularly perform drills using tennis and golf balls with the hope of improving handling and Vatuvei has said he does some of these away from training. He has even been advised to treat the ball like it was his baby daughter.
For some players, though, it looks easy. Think Mark Waugh and Stephen Fleming in the slips, Dan Carter on a rugby pitch or Roger Federer wielding a tennis racket.
However, Button said there's no evidence elite sportspeople are hard-wired any differently and able to filter information any quicker than 'normal' people.
Rather, they learn shortcuts in processing this information through practice.
Don Bradman, for example, was chucked out of the Australian army during World War II because of faulty eyesight. His reaction time test showed him to be inferior to most university students, yet he is still, to this day, considered the best batsman to have graced cricket because he learned shortcuts in processing information from the eyes to the brain to the muscles.
For Vatuvei, then, it's all about practice because, as the saying goes, (the right sort of) practice makes perfect. It's also about telling himself that he can play rugby league, and play it quite well. Then we might see him actually do it.