Critics added in the fact that he departed from the usual tradition of coaches giving interviews with all the gusto of a dental patient waiting for a root canal, and came to the conclusion he was a bright-eyed, cheerful lightweight.
Yes, he is different. But like the best coaches, away from the spotlight he lives, breathes and dreams the game to a degree that means there have been times when he’s struggled to sleep with the plans and tactics whirring through his mind.
Last year Wayne Smith’s son Nick, during an interview for Wayne’s book, wasn’t really joking when he mused that his father could probably keep rugby out of his mind for a day, “or maybe just an afternoon”. That sort of commitment is what makes the great coaches different. Smith has always had it, and so does Robertson.
Friends in the right places
The people Robertson has gathered together as his coaching team offer a mix of experience that ranges from Jason Ryan whipping last year’s World Cup All Blacks pack into shape, to fitness guru Nic Gill, who first worked with the All Blacks 20 years ago.
At the 2023 World Cup in France, Ryan made a mockery of the theory that coaching experience outside New Zealand is essential to being involved in test rugby.
Ryan proves yet again that, for intellectual heft in a rugby side, you need to look to the front row. In the deep, sweaty depths of the staggering number of scrums he packed during a 180-game club career with Sydenham in Christchurch, he forged an attitude that fits with his now internationally proven skill set.
As electric as the main grid
Until Robertson came along, the most vibrant All Blacks coach I’d ever known was the unbeaten legend of the 1960s, Sir Fred Allen.
Many hugely gifted men, like the knights Brian Lochore, Graham Henry, Steve Hansen, and Wayne Smith, have been inspiring, towering figures. Ian Foster almost produced the greatest redemption story in the history of New Zealand sport at last year’s World Cup.
But, even decades after his coaching days were over, nobody made the air crackle around him like Allen did ... until Robertson arrived.
In many ways, Robertson is hugely different from Allen, who could be so intimidating that Colin Meads once said: “Fred was the sort of joker than when he came in the room you sort of found yourself sitting up a bit straighter.”
Robertson isn’t world-famous in Christchurch for scaring players. But as far as wearing their passion on their sleeves goes, Allen and Robertson strike me as twin sons of different mothers.
The hill to climb gets gradually steeper
Brutal Kiwi keyboard warriors and bar-leaner critics rarely allow early wriggle room for a new coach. So there’s reason to be grateful that England, not Ireland, will tour here in July. Tests with Fiji (in San Diego) and Argentina (in New Zealand) follow before the first of two clashes with the Springboks in South Africa.
If the fates had conspired to begin the international programme with Ireland and South Africa, a successful new coach might need to be someone capable of just walking across the Indian Ocean to Durban.
Without denigrating the improving English, Ireland are the form side in Six Nations this year. The world champion Boks, at home, using their brutal tactic of what amounts to a new forward pack lumbering on for the second half, are a scary prospect. But there’s a realistic hope the All Blacks will have developed match-play unity and confidence by the time they run onto the field in Johannesburg for the first Springboks test on August 31.
Even in England, they’ve had enough
World Rugby tends to move with the alacrity of a pet rock when it comes to making the game more attractive to watch. But thankfully Super Rugby Pacific has been allowed to change the offside law to ban what’s been called kick tennis.
Much beloved of the French team, and English club sides, kick tennis allows opposing kickers to boot the ball back and forth between them while beefy forwards can stand still and watch without having to retreat to be onside.
But when a Murrayfield test crowd starting booing France and Scotland for a kicking duel, and 12 kicks on end during a Bath-Gloucester club game was too much for even English fans, World Rugby yielded to common sense.
Counterattack is in New Zealand rugby’s DNA, and you can bet on the experiment here being successful. Who knows? It might even lead to more tests being decided by tries, not penalties and dropped goals.
Phil Gifford has twice been judged New Zealand Sportswriter of the Year, has won nine New Zealand and two Australasian radio awards, and been judged New Zealand Sports Columnist of the Year three times. In 2010 he was honoured with the SPARC lifetime achievement award for services to sports journalism.
