Mitchell's long and winding road

By CHRIS RATTUE

"I'm not out there sweating for three hours every day just to find out what it feels like to sweat."

So said a handy basketballer named Michael Jordan, who was as hell-bent on winning as anybody.

No one can accuse John Mitchell of not putting in hard work.

His old assistant in the Chiefs days, Kevin Greene, once complained to his boss about the late-night footy phone calls.

Greene liked to be tucked up in bed about 10pm rather than going over the delights of rucks and mauls.

But the toil has finished in trouble. After setting the pace, the All Blacks were lapped at the Olympic Stadium.

Life in little towns and big traffic jams just got harder, according to national legend.

Oh, the heartache. It was supposed to end differently this time.

The black jersey stands for power and charisma - not another flipping wake.

We've just been stuffed by another Aussie team, and it didn't even include John Eales.

So what's been the John Mitchell All Blacks' story so far?

"To see a man beaten not by a better opponent but by himself is a tragedy."

- American boxing trainer Cus D'Amato.

Mitchell did not so much oust Wayne Smith as fill the space when Smith reapplied for his own job with words to the effect: "I'm not really sure if I'm up to this."

He who dithers withers. Smith lost the job more than Mitchell won it.

Smith is a sensitive soul. A rival coach in English rugby once told the Herald how he contemplated helping Smith back to his car, so exhausted was the Northampton coach by pressure.

Mitchell can walk back to his own car, thank you very much.

Mitch is not a blinker. After Saturday night's defeat he bristled with determination to stay in the job.

He told us about the pain, but it did not show - although he did hit the ruck just that little bit harder when someone asked if this proved the ABs were chokers.

"No, we're not chokers, mate," he said, with added intensity.

One can only presume that after a bad night's sleep, he still feels the same about the job. He obviously feels there's more sweating to be done as All Blacks coach.

"No one wants advice - especially the coach. We only want corroboration."

- John Steinbeck, author.

In a Herald interview while at the Chiefs, an open and amiable Mitchell revealed the effect his parents' separation had on him as a teenager.

This is a traumatic experience for many people, and in Mitchell's case he responded by toughening up. You only had yourself to rely on in life, he determined.

The distinct impression with the man is that he closes the door on the outside world and operates within a secure bubble.

There is not much new-age about him either, apart from his "life coach". When his Sale team once lost badly, he called the troops in on Sunday, locked the doors and demanded that they finish a keg of beer with him.

Even this bonding session was held in a bubble, rather than taking everyone down to the local.

This put-up-the-walls approach removes distractions, but also eliminates alternative thinking.

His blind faith in Reuben Thorne as captain, for instance, seemed blinkered.

From the beginning, Mitchell surrounded himself with like-minded people. He demanded that the rules be bent so Super 12 coach Robbie Deans could be his assistant - oops, "coaching co-ordinator".

This was a good move. Deans, another dogged character, is hands-on and a smart coach.

Out went the old guard and in came the new, who were all very guarded.

You would struggle to think of five more similar rugby people, in public personae at least, than Mitchell, Deans, selectors Kieran Crowley and Mark Shaw and captain Thorne.

In the first year, there were strong suggestions within the game that Deans was running the ship. Mitchell had little head-coaching experience in New Zealand and the All Blacks were loaded with Crusaders.

One of the better ways to get in the All Blacks was to sit on the Canterbury bench - sitting on a bench in Cathedral Square started to look like a handy bid for selection.

But the Crusaders did not reflect New Zealand's strength - attacking power. They were organised and diligent, but Uruguay can be organised and diligent.

In his second full year, World Cup year, Mitchell and his cohorts headed on a different tack - thanks largely to the emergence of an up-and-at-'em Auckland mob.

This won approval, even if there were controversial casualties along the way.

Casualty one, in the public eye, was the much-loved Andrew Mehrtens.

He is a zany little character particularly well-liked by the All Blacks' old school - men such as Colin Meads.

In the computer rugby-speak world, Mehrts seems normal.

His demise seemed more evidence of Deans' influence, even though (snigger, snigger) he was not officially allowed to be a selector.

Deans and Mehrtens apparently do not see eye to eye. Deans has trouble understanding Mehrtens' off-season training regime, which tends to start a bit late.

Mehrts regards Christmas as Christmas: a bit of ham, a few tipples, and the promise of some days of sun and relaxation. A very healthy attitude, you might say, except for one small detail.

The present rugby season started about February 1996 and is still going strong. You are not allowed real time off any more.

Deans and Mehrtens have also clashed over tactics, apparently. When Mehrtens suggests something for the Crusaders, they give it a crack before Deans chucks it out. Only a rumour, mind you, but a strong one.

Mehrtens does have weaknesses. But then so does Carlos Spencer, whose non-tackling - one of the things that caused Mehrtens to be dumped - was flashed up in neon lights during the World Cup.

But Mehrtens was more likely to kick those goals that Leon MacDonald missed, and find some alternative tactics with his boot.

He certainly cannot make those dazzling Spencer runs, but on the big night, Carlos - along with plenty of others - failed, especially in altering the course of the game.

Mehrtens was at least a handy option for the squad.

Of other discards, though, Mitchell probably got it right. Taine Randell later admitted he'd had enough of All Blacks life. Christian Cullen loathed Mitchell and put out a book to prove it, and had become error-prone and often isolated on the field.

There were chinks in Anton Oliver's game, although maybe not enough to have him thrown out altogether.

A top-level Highlanders source swears that Oliver's spat with Laurie Mains cost him his place. This is almost impossible to verify but reveals some of the thinking around the traps. Mitchell and Mains, who made Mitch an All Black, are old comrades.

Overall, though, you cannot argue strongly against most of Mitchell's decisions to axe leading lights. They were close calls. He made his and stuck by them. That was his prerogative.

And he did backtrack. After hinting that Spencer was not a test first five-eighths but a fullback option, he reneged.

Spencer had a mainly brilliant World Cup season but went cold in the semifinal heat (apart from that one glorious run) - although in fairness he had no momentum to work off. Stephen Larkham positively drooled at the sight of Spencer's drift defence, though.

"A leader is a dealer in hope."

- Napoleon Bonaparte.

Now here's one to get your teeth into, because it is not said in hindsight. Reuben Thorne.

Yes, we all know that there are many team-leaders out there, but one counts more than the others. Thorne as a squad member? Fine. Captain? No.

It should have been Tana Umaga, whose place was not so much assured as an absolute necessity.

Umaga is also a natural leader and used to adversity. After all, he plays for Wellington.

The bigger the occasion, the less you see of Thorne. Rugby is a game of momentum. You can spend hours in opposition territory - enough to build a condominium with a pool and tennis court if you like - but if you cannot go forward at high speed then you might as well spend your time in a condo on the Gold Coast.

Thorne never punched his side upfield. As a captain, he did not inspire them in that direction, or find new tactics to get them there. He didn't even badger referees.

From the moment he went Awol in the first test of the year against England, Thorne hid his light under a bushel. He is a decent chap and it is not really a lot of fun slinging arrows his way.

Umaga was sidelined anyway, but the point still stands.

We have been brought up on the intelligence of Whineray and Mourie, our ideas of leadership then honed on the iron will, physical power and charisma of Buck (a wee bowing of the head here) and Fitzy (another bow).

Our teams are led by the legends. Thorne does not fit the mould. He may be respected, but never gave us a lot of hope.

"You can only have two things in life: reasons or results. Reasons don't count."

- Robert Anthony, psychologist and motivator.

Yes, but the All Blacks did have some results along the way. Mitchell reclaimed the Bledisloe Cup and Tri-Nations, and his spread-the-ball philosophy won admirers. He has brought thrills and spills to the international game.

Bugger all of that. We lost the cup. Again.

"If you don't say anything, you won't be called upon to repeat it."

- Calvin Coolidge, US President.

"Talk is cheap but you can't buy it back."

- Lyle Sussman, management consultant and author.

And on to the media. When you are scuttling around with the press pack, it is easy to get a jaundiced view.

We are supposed to be the public's window - to use a Mitch phrase - into the All Blacks' world. And to use another Mitch phrase, it was a small window.

Mitchell could be interesting - his reasons for dropping players revealed strategies of the game. Then he was bagged for it. He couldn't win.

He often said nothing, or used a language from the Ministry of Funny Talks.

After crushing South Africa, the "little window" popped up to describe how long he would dwell on the joy of victory.

The overall All Blacks' attitude was: "We're here to do a job and we're the only ones who really understand what it's all about. The rest of you can stand over there and watch, but don't touch, and hopefully we'll all meet at the destination, where we can wave the Webb Ellis Cup about in jubilation."

This took some getting used to after the previous regime. You could ring Wayne Smith up and chat. You would not get a more lively conversation in rugby than with Peter Thorburn.

There was a respect, a tolerance and a willingness to share.

Mark Shaw summed up the new tone by saying he could not be bothered discussing the game with media fleas who knew nothing. Here he was, years after a sometimes-violent career had ended, punching more noddies, this time with words.

Mitchell was honourable in defeat in Sydney, but Shaw's attitude reverberates.

Contrast this with Australian coach Eddie Jones, who was outstanding in victory, an absolute gentleman.

Jones, referring to the match build-up, fully accepted the role of media criticism in the rugby deal. He then showered genuine accolades on the All Blacks.

But Mitchell's men have been like a train rumbling through the prairies in the Wild West, with all the gold nuggets of information on board and "Cowboy" Shaw riding shotgun.

The rest of us could chase all we liked on horseback, hollering and waving rifles, but Mitch and his men carried on full-steam ahead, not giving up a thing.

Instead of hugs and kisses at the train station, we have ended up with another World Cup derailment. At least we can try and pick over the wreck with a bit more dignity this time, although it is not easy.

"Nothing is more dangerous than an idea when it is the only one you have."

- Emile Chartier, philosopher and author.

There was a hole in the All Blacks' plan, and like all good holes, it was slap-bang in the centre.

Mitchell was so careful in so many ways yet there was never any quality back-up for Tana Umaga. Ma'a Nonu came and went, came and went, so when Leon MacDonald became a stopgap, the plan went awry.

The defensive frailties shown against Wales were too easily dismissed in some quarters.

Umaga's power and experience were sorely missed. At about the time he fell over, Stirling Mortlock was completing a recovery from a shoulder operation.

Mortlock was man of the match in the semifinal, his intercept try setting the tone. The All Blacks' philosophy of hitting the wingers quickly - and maybe Spencer's swagger - were knocked back in that early moment.

Mortlock's rampaging runs, almost unchallenged, put the All Blacks on the back foot.

The game is a matter of inches, as Mitchell can be heard saying, and Umaga's freak accident was bad luck. But you make your own luck. Mitchell never sorted out the goalkicking problem, and the backline was left exposed by one injury.

Going into a major test without a recognised goalkicker and with a makeshift centre was a dud.

"A good football game can add flavour to a hot dog."

- Jack Gibson, league coach and a conveyor belt of catchy sayings.

A good result can also make living in New Zealand a touch easier. We just have to face facts and stop putting ourselves on an outdated pedestal. We are no longer the rugby superpower. Still very good, mind you, but nothing special.

Australia played superbly and with limited resources in some areas. They win our applause.

The Wallabies used their backs for momentum, and their often-slated forwards were marvellous on defence. They found strength in adversity.

There was respect and dignity between the coaches and players from the two countries after the game, both on the field and in the press conference room.

The grace with which Eddie Jones accepted victory will remain in my mind for a long time. It was a privilege to hear.

As for Mitchell, his reign has been one of darkness and light.

His players have been largely locked away in Melbourne behind press protocols. There is a cold relationship with the media. The players themselves are generally polite, but guarded compared with the French etc.

Yet when Mitchell's team emerged, they played with breathtaking speed and skill.

He often portrays himself as being in just another professional assignment - a very clinical man like those around him.

As a unit the All Blacks lacked an energy and passion at the big moment, although who could fault the courage of Richie McCaw and Justin Marshall, to name two.

What of the future?

Mitchell's boss, Chris Moller, appeared frustrated by the PR, especially the block on injury information. Now that Mitchell has lost, his cold manner may count against him, despite efforts and achievements that should not be ignored. Then again, he could survive and find new glories.

As a Yankees baseballer named Yogi Berra, who was famous for twisted but perceptive sayings, said:

"When you come to a fork in the road, take it."