Rugby Interview with Leinster coach Michael CheikaGerry Thornley gives the background to how and why Leinster took the bold move in appointing a coach who lacked a high profile
It's hard to credit but this week last year Leinster had seemingly hit the bottom of the barrel. They'd barely turned up at Lansdowne Road for a Heineken European Cup quarter-final at home to Leicester, amid the usual claims they were chokers, and then it became publicly known it was also Declan Kidney's last match. He was heading back to Munster and so Leinster were faced with a search for their fourth coach in four years.
For Mick Dawson, the Leinster chief executive, and Paul McNaughton, the team manager, their choice of successor would not only make or break them, but make or break Leinster. They were unlucky with Kidney, whose near 24/7 commitment to Leinster while his family were in Cork was simply an inordinate strain when set against the carrot of returning to Munster.
But if Dawson and co had got the next one wrong, the players would have been up in arms, the exodus would have been akin to the flight of the wild geese, while we in the media would surely have regurgitated the Felipe Contepomi registration gaffe and other mistakes. "We'd all be on the golf course," quips Dawson. But it was, simply, the single most important executive decision by Leinster in the decade of the professional game.
In the ensuing week, the first thing McNaughton and Dawson did was press ahead with the signing of Will Green, reassuring the Wasps tighthead he had made the correct decision. In the meantime Gerry Murphy took over until the end of the season in a caretaker capacity, which gave Dawson and McNaughton some valuable breathing time.
An advertisement was placed on the Leinster website and a selection committee of Dawson, McNaughton and Brian McLoughlin was formed. McNaughton was also charged with the task of canvassing the opinion of Leinster players as to the type of coach they wanted.
In one meeting with four of Leinster's Lions, Brian O'Driscoll, Gordon D'Arcy, Shane Horgan and Denis Hickie, they expressed the fear amongst the squad that Leinster were inclined toward a disciplinarian, to restore order to a supposedly unruly or headstrong squad. A sort of Graeme Souness type a la Newcastle. (And look how that panned out!) The players wanted a good technical coach and assistants who would simply improve their basics and their skills, individually and collectively.
John Kirwan, Matt Williams (favoured by many of the frontline players), Nigel Melville and Gary Gold were reputedly amongst some of the more high-profile candidates, and Dawson, accompanied by Phil Lawlor, went to England for an initial round of opening discussions with some of the candidates before forming a shortlist.
Michael Cheika was not initially on that short list. However, he had been recommended to Leinster by Alan Gaffney, who had also encouraged Cheika to apply for the post. Gaffney, a key player in all of this, believed a Cheika-Knox (David, assistant coach) ticket would be a good fit for Leinster.
"I'd been Michael's first coach when he joined Randwick as an 18-year-old. He is a good coach, with a huge work ethic and attention to detail, while Knoxie is more laidback and a great skills coach. I thought they would be a perfect fit for Leinster."
WHILE CHEIKA WAS in London, Dawson also met him at the Hilton Hotel in Heathrow. He returned and informed McNaughton and McLoughlin how impressed he'd been by Cheika more than anybody, talking of his passion for and knowledge of the game.
The Leinster selection panel had felt Cheika didn't have the requisite profile, and that it might be too much of a gamble. But having completed a round of interviews with the shortlist of candidates in Dublin in mid-May, were still drawn to Cheika by the strong recommendations of first Gaffney and now Dawson.
So the aforementioned three-man selection committee, along with the IRFU representative Eddie Wigglesworth, met Cheika in the Burlington Hotel and liked what they heard. "He rapidly became favourite in our minds," recalls McNaughton, "because of his ideas on the game. He came across as extremely detailed, extremely strong in his views but also, encouragingly, high on skill content, high on player development and high on keeping the ball alive. He was young, he was coming with a good package with Knox. The only thing that he lacked, perhaps, was experience of the top grade and profile."
Cheika had been in the running for the assistant job at the newly-devised Western Force Super 14 side in Perth, but wanted a head coach's job, and at Wasps. "He spoke very well and presented himself well," says Dawson, taking up the story. "At one point, he looked at us and said: 'I know what you guys are thinking. Who the hell is Michael Cheika? You guys are taking a risk.' Which is exactly what we were thinking," laughs Dawson.
McNaughton phoned O'Driscoll, by now in camp with the Lions, to confirm the good word on Knox as a skills coach and they asked if Knox could come over in the next 24 hours. Fairly mindful they were now favourites for the job, Knox duly flew over. That was enough for Leinster. By the end of the week, they'd signed on the dotted line, seven weeks after the post-Leicester fall-out.
Considering the stakes, it was a bold move by Leinster. Had the Cheika appointment backfired, then Leinster would have imploded. It's true Leinster have won absolutely nothing yet. But far from imploding, far from there being a mass exodus, the likes of O'Driscoll, Malcolm O'Kelly, Keith Gleeson and Reggie Corrigan have re-signed already, Denis Hickie is expected to do so, while Chris Whitaker, Trevor Hogan and Stephen Keogh have all committed to join. Furthermore, Leinster have invested heavily in new facilities at Riverview, while the move to the RDS was both visionary and an undoubted success.
Dawson and co can breath easily again.
CHEIKA HAD DONE HIS three years at Randwick, culminating in an unbeaten championship-winning year, and was finishing there no matter what. Due to his successful clothing business (as you'd expect from such a dapper dresser, amongst other labels he trades Armani) he didn't need the money. Self-assured without being brash, Cheika wasn't surprised to land such a prized job. "I'm not one for making presentations with bullet points. I suppose there was a bit of me thinking they might go for a higher profile, but you can only put your best foot forward."
Along with his fellow rebel Knox, he's brought an idealism that seems to fit happily with a talented, inquiring squad keen for self-improvement.
Cheika and Knox may be different personality types, but sing from the same hymn sheet. Knox also has a tendency for honest appraisals of performances by team and players. More than anything, each knows they're motivated exclusively by a desire for the team to play better, not by egos, and that they have a shared, slightly idealistic philosophy.
"I've no doubt about it," agrees Cheika. "If you don't search for ideals, or Utopias almost . . . you've got to shoot high. That's the way we were brought up to learn the game."
The Randwick way? "Absolutely. It's not just the philosophy of running rugby, it was the pursuit of excellence. You got hammered if you didn't do the right thing. And you didn't get sad, you just said 'right, I better get better'."
The son of a Lebanese father who emigrated to Sydney when only 20 in 1950, at a time when it took seven days and countless flights to negotiate the route, Cheika not only joined his local club but one with some strong Lebanese connections. The wife of a former player at the club, Nick Shehadie, is the governor general of New South Wales. His father Joseph, who received an MBE for his services to the Lebanese community, never saw his parents again after emigrating from the Lebanon, and eventually married a Lebanese girl, Therese, when meeting her in Sydney 10 years later. Cheika has one brother, Paul (a prop who played with him at Randwick) anda sister, Carol.
Cheika bridles a little at nationalism as a cause, and while he knows he's Australian, he remains very aware of his heritage.
"It's very much the culture mix. I think the Lebanon is one of the few places in the world where I've been able to see such a mix of cultures. I think Turkey might be the only other place I've been to where you really get the crossover of the Occidental and the Eastern influence, and they merge together. You get the mosque and the church next door to each other, and all the different foods, the French influence from the colonialism, it's all there.
"And it's been totally f**ked up by everybody else playing world games there, without getting too political about it. The Lebanon hasn't got much to offer in terms of oil or minerals, it's just a beautiful place."
Though he never played the game, his father quickly became an avid rugby fan. Young Michael initially took to rugby league at his "leaguey" school Marcellin before following his brother up to Randwick, where he regularly watched his local club on Saturday afternoons.
He played alongside Euan MacKenzie and Phil Kearns on the same under-20 teams and for years alongside them and the likes of Eddie Jones, Knox, Simon Poidevin and others in the production line of great players and visionary leftfield coaches, all with that pursuit of excellence in mind.
A BIT OF A FIREBRAND in his playing days (in keeping with the figure you'd see in the stand during the game, if less the composed figure 10 minutes afterwards) Cheika played for the Australian under-21s and made one tour with New South Wales. "If I knew what I know now I probably could have done a whole lot better but I would never regret my career. I loved playing for Randwick."
By his own admission Knox, and to a greater extent himself, were slightly maverick by rugby standards. Nor had ever considered coaching. Had never coached kids. In 1999, at 32, he was still playing, nurturing his business, when out of the blue David Campese rang him and suggested he coach Padova, where Campo, who'd obviously seen something in Cheika, had recommended him.
"I wouldn't say I'm totally reckless but I'm a bit random like that, I suppose. I quit playing with seven games to go. I just believe if it's out there, do it. If you don't things you might regret missing the opportunity."
Hmmm, you'd venture that more than once Cheika heard Gaffney expressed his catchphrase: "Never Die Wondering."
He enjoyed his year there, and it gave him a taste for more of the same, but he returned home when his father became ill, and took over Randwick. He loves the interaction of coaching, and helping players to achieve their potential. Witnessing that is the best part of this job, failing to see that potential realised is the worst.
"There have been a few players I feel I've failed, and I can get more out of," he says of this season. "And then when you see players go on and you've contributed to that . . . I'm a big believer if you invest in all the players individually then the reward will be the team performances, and not to compromise individuals for the team."
He's been surprised by the length of his working days, and players have been struck by his work ethic. "He is as you see him, and he's a very straight guy," says Hickie. "He likes to put in a few hours all right, like most of the top coaches. He's very down to earth. He's a lot of fun, which makes it good, but he's always good at drawing the line. I think, as well, he's very good at listening. He doesn't pretend to know everything, and then if you've got anything he'll go along with it."
Cheika knew of the Irish internationals, while Contepomi and a host of others have been a revelation, even to him. Last Saturday in Toulouse was in the tea leaves. The shoots of the rejuvenation could be seen in the unlucky defeat at home to Bath. Even then, and after the slightly self-inflicted defeat at Bourgoin or other let-downs in the Celtic League, notably in Wales, he never lost belief in the squad.
CHEIKA AND KNOX can be hard taskmasters, but the players have been responsive to this, while Mike Brewer has been an invaluable addition, particularly with regard to individualised, one-on-one coaching. Hickie also speaks of the coaches having fun, joining in the games of tip rugby, while encouraging a desire to take risks and instilling a self-belief they could beat Toulouse away.
"It's a respect game at Leinster," says Cheika, "that's what we put in at the very start. We respect the players, and they respect us. If we're hard on them, it's not because I'm getting a power trip out of it, it's 'cos I feel they're letting themselves down, they're not performing on a certain issue."
He wonders if the role of the coach is seriously over-rated. They play it, they own it, he says of the players - he is merely there to empower. You sense he is here for at least the haul of three years minimum, as will Knox if he can withstand the climate, and you wonder how he'd eventually like to leave.
"I suppose to leave a strong culture of excellence and wanting to perform. If there's one thing I want the guys to get from me it's the hunger for the game and take every opportunity you get. And I think that pursuit of excellence is something that breeds a good culture in your team, your club, and then in everything you do, whether it's marketing or PR, or whatever. I think, if anything it would be that people have good memories of the time we were here. That's the nicest way to be thought of, I suppose."
Early days, but so far so good. Not only are Leinster running high in the Celtic League, but they've reached their third European Cup semi-final with their greatest victory, and player morale and spectator morale palpably elevated.
As with Williams and Gaffney, Leinster have struck Aussie gold again. They haven't re-invented the wheel, as Gaffney was wont to say, and as the Liverpool bootroom always stressed in early April, they've won nothing yet. But compared to this exact time last year, Leinster are in rude health.
