In a world of his own

Clive Woodward

The British are a most curious bunch. They come out here with a so-called Barmy Army whose general seems as sane and reasonable as you can get. Yet the Lions, the deathly serious component of this six-week jamboree, have a general who seems to have gone ever so slightly barmy.

If Woodward gains a single test win, it will be by good fortune rather than design. In Australia 2003 he had the look of a champion. In New Zealand 2005 he has the distinct look of a charlatan.

If Sir Clive knows what he is doing, he's keeping it a secret from everyone, including himself.

Woodward gave the Herald on Sunday an exclusive interview in January. He said then that he'd pick an aggressive pack designed to play set-piece rugby. He wanted to grind the All Blacks down and kick the points when the inevitable penalties were awarded.

But the most destructive scrummager, Andy Sheridan, wasn't in the test 22 and Steve Thompson was on the bench. Thompson is a supposed liability at lineout time. Shane Byrne, who started ahead of Thompson last week, is a definite liability at lineout time.

It was a game plan crying out for a target man at second five. So he picked the smallest midfielder in the squad, dodgy shoulder and all, to play No 12.

None of that was as daft as believing that Ben Kay, Will Greenwood and Jason Robinson were in the right form to take on the All Blacks.

Can a coach be taken seriously when he has to make seven personnel changes plus three significant positional changes between tests?

Sir Clive, though, needn't worry about losing respect over his selection blunders. Respect was lost earlier in the tour when he chose to give his test side only one full outing prior to the test.

Their lack of collective game time left them the most impoverished Lions side to ever face the All Blacks. Sir Clive has changed conventional thinking in test rugby circles, yet there are many truisms that will live for eternity.

The only way to build combinations and get units operating effectively is to play them together. The training paddock is not the panacea Sir Clive thought it was.

The Lions were only assembled in late April. They are a side that can never draw too heavily on what went before as the four-year gap renders the specifics pointless. They needed time at the coalface to establish an understanding.

The backs have looked like virtual strangers all tour.

But the final proof Sir Clive has lost his grip came last Sunday. He held four press conferences in the 24 hours after the first test. Each one hyped the drama surrounding the tackle that ended Brian O'Driscoll's tour. Each one was designed to deliver front pages blasting thuggish All Blacks.

He got the result he was after. But while he was whipping the press into a frenzy, Henry and his fellow selectors were working out how they could tinker with an already impressive All Black side.

Henry has focused on the rugby and his team. Woodward has focused on the media and himself, believing he can cause enough off-field distractions to obscure results.

It's a daft way to go about coaching, although it does have a consolation. If things don't work out at Southampton, Sir Clive knows he could come back to rugby and be part of the next Lions tour - as leader of the Barmy Army.

- HERALD ON SUNDAY