Paul Lewis: Standing against the winds of change

John Kirwan.

Some years back, the Aberdeen Evening Express in Scotland reported on a big storm. At its height, a coastguard was asked by marine authorities to estimate wind speed. He said he was sorry but he didn't have a wind gauge. However, if it was any help, his Land Rover had just been blown off the cliff.

Sir John Kirwan is feeling the harsh winds of criticism now the Blues have failed, for the second year in a row, to make the Super Rugby playoffs. In some sections of the media and fan base, Kirwan is now being characterised as a great talker but limited coach - the gift of the gab but not the gift of winning.

In today's instant gratification, me-generation world, such criticism is no surprise. Nor are those sharpening pencils and axes now Sir Graham Henry and All Black coaching cohort Mick Byrne have left the Blues camp, supposedly leaving Kirwan exposed.

It's to be hoped the Blues have determined Kirwan won't easily be blown off the cliff. His final season in charge is next year, although some of the gossip coming out of Auckland rugby suggests the job could be his for longer, barring a major embarrassment in 2015. Before the knee-jerkers jerk knees and howl "Benji Marshall", consider the Blues environment, recent history and obstacles.

The franchise haven't won a title since 2003 and have made the playoffs only twice since, one of those under the much-maligned Pat Lam. It's a sad record for the country's most populous franchise - brought on by themselves.

A combination of bad decisions, poor selections, sagging youth policies, internal politics and under-achievement on the field created a vicious circle. The Blues was the place no one really wanted to be.

Players looked at results, whispers about flawed administration, coaching staff quality and saw no clear path to All Blackdom, only hurdles they did not have to clear elsewhere. The antipathy to Auckland meant provincial players sometimes baulked at going north.

A comparison is perhaps the Manly Sea Eagles, dismissively known as the "Silvertails" by many working-class NRL clubs because of their penchant for chequebook recruitment, robbing other clubs' talent. Manly have outgrown that and the Blues' efforts to attract talent by similar methods have failed. Over time, they became known as the team which attracted only those others didn't want.

Kirwan's Benji experiment failed and that has affected public perceptions. But the fact remains, if you can't attract existing players, grow your own. That's what Kirwan and the Blues are doing. It's not an instant recipe.

In spite of two 10th placings, the Blues have grown in stature, certainly in depth, and produced some in the last two years who have either become All Blacks or have the potential to - Patrick Tuipolutu, Steven Luatua, Bryn Hall, Ihaia West, Simon Hickey, Francis Saili, Charles Piutau, Lolagi Visinia, Pita Ahki, Tevita Li, Frank Halai and others.

If there's a worry there, it's that so few of the up-and-comers are forwards. Kirwan has big spaces to fill in the front row, lock, halfback and a back-up for influential skipper Luke Braid at No 7 - his courageous style of play invites injury.

It's a demanding task, keep growing the kids while filling gaps so they can make the play-offs. So don't be surprised if Kirwan is retained even if the top six eludes him. He's more than 'gift of the gab'. He's an uplifting presence, a strong figurehead and a man around whom a Blues dynasty could be built. It might even be that his legacy doesn't reach full flower until after he is gone.

He will want to avoid what happened to Hurricanes coach Mark Hammett - 9th, 8th, 11th and 7th placings and a controversial blowout of All Blacks Ma'a Nonu and Andrew Hore.

Hammett spoke of the "state of disarray" he found when he took over there. "When I came here it was a real mess... There was a lack of leadership, there was some character flaws and there were some really professional standards that were nowhere near [what they needed to be]."

Well, that may be. But the man he took over from as coach, Colin Cooper, had the following record over eight years among all that "disarray", even if the inmates might sometimes have run the asylum, so to speak: five semifinals and one final .

History will judge Cooper's results, no matter how Hammett might have grown "professional standards", as the superior of the two.

Kirwan will want to avoid a similar fate - raising the tone but not the results.