He is supposed to be the man to deliver New Zealand rugby from the travails of the past few years – a sometimes bewildering array of record defeats, an unpopular coach, a not-very-popular captain and the could-have, would-have, should-have-won World Cup final last year.
Robertson and his lieutenants have done such a good job so far that it’s easy to forget this is his first test in charge. After the divisions and debates of the Ian Foster era, Robertson is widely seen as the right man for the job (no matter how badly Foster’s departure was handled) – with broad appeal as the surfing, breakdancing everyman with a ready sense of humour and seven straight Super Rugby titles.
His task is even more difficult in that he is also seen by some as the man to deliver rugby from the rather boring cloud that often shrouds it – the game of multiple dimensions now all too frequently resembles rugby league’s two-dimensional mien.
He must also be the first All Blacks coach to star in a TV documentary series before he has headed up even one test match.
It sparked one Herald Business opinion piece, citing Robertson’s approach as a blueprint for driving a successful company: “It takes confidence to make changes, plan for the year ahead and to identify when to pull in experts for support. Razor talks about the need to make tough and skilful decisions”, it said.
“He talks about the importance of a coaching team around you that will challenge you, have great conversations, and help you be better.”
Whew. Zero test matches and no wins (yet) and he’s a saviour for business, too?
It’s a tall pedestal we’ve put him on – and a long way to fall, especially in a year of 14 tests, nine of them against England, South Africa, Australia, Ireland and France. Those matches are eminently losable.
Which is why the selection of the team to play England has been mostly conservative.
Make no mistake – for all this Messianic clamour, this test is one the All Blacks could well lose, especially as the New Zealanders are often rusty on their first outing.
There was surprise at the selection of Stephen Perofeta ahead of Beauden Barrett at fullback, with Robertson choosing to emphasise Perofeta’s form and skill.
What he didn’t say was that Barrett has barely played any rugby since returning from Japan, especially after being denied a quickfire return to Super Rugby Pacific with the Blues.
Neither has (the non-selected) Ethan Blackadder, nor Ardie Savea – although you could lock the latter in a cupboard in the garage for several months and he would still burst out test-ready.
Add to that the fact the captain, Scott Barrett, also hasn’t played since he crocked his back. His mate in the engine room, Patrick Tuipulotu, also has a lingering question mark over his quickly mended knee, Super final notwithstanding.
The lineout looks a little vulnerable.
It’s a risk, as are the back three. Polished though they are, Sevu Reece and Perofeta both have excellent high-ball skills but are a bit on the short side. No one would blame the English if they tested them. Nor would it be a surprise to see the English defensive arrows consistently loosed at Damien McKenzie; upset him and they will disturb much of the All Blacks’ creativity.
So, to keep the Messianic metaphor going, this is more about survival than revival.
Robertson’s mana and ready laugh (employed as he said he and his team were not above the boring stuff if it meant winning a test match against a worthy opponent) already have most of the media and fan base on side.
It’s not just his personality and inclusiveness as a coach. After the Foster era, fans and media have already decided that priority No 1 is to win, never mind the style.
How long will that last? Can he really be New Zealand rugby’s saviour?
There is so much going on – we haven’t even talked about the ongoing governance division – and, even if you limit your view to matters on-field, it is asking a lot of any new coach to do anything more than consolidate early on.
A loss or losses will, as always, bring out the stones and the sewing machine oil with which to sharpen the knives. Or is that razors?
Robertson’s position going into this test calls to mind the scene from Monty Python’s immortal Life Of Brian, set in the ancient holy lands (where Brian was mistaken for the Messiah even though he’d just joined an anti-Roman pressure group to impress a girl).
In frustration, Brian attempts to persuade an adoring crowd that he is not the Messiah.
Girl from crowd: “Ah, only the true Messiah denies His divinity.”
Brian: “Well, what sort of chance does that give me? All right, I am the Messiah!”
Crowd: “He is! He is the Messiah”.
Brian: “Now f*** off”.
Silence
Man from crowd: “How shall we f*** off, O Lord?”
