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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781742699660 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Allen & Unwin Pty., Limited |
| Publication date: | 01/01/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
The Ox is Slow But the Earth is Patient
By Mick Malthouse, David Buttifant
Allen & Unwin
Copyright © 2011 Mick Malthouse and David ButtifantAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-74269-966-0
CHAPTER 1
SHAPING THE TEAM
The vision
The existing culture and traditions of any organisation will influence its vision. Collingwood's unique DNA had organically developed for well over 100 years through some difficult eras, especially the early years of the twentieth century. The club had a particular set of characteristics: hard work, mateship, survival and an ability to go on no matter how tough times were.
But nothing ever stays the same. And for Collingwood, change came in the shape of Mick Malthouse. Mick arrived at the club with what he believed to be a winning formula. He arrived with a vision and set about moulding a new ethos within the club; he and his men took on the task of rebuilding with gusto. Collingwood had only won one Premiership in the past 40 years. Change was not only needed — it was vital.
Going against the grain
Mick's first act at Collingwood was to talk to everyone and try to work out what had been going wrong.
Mick — West Coast transition
One of the most important things in my transition from West Coast to Collingwood was talking to the board members, the staff and the players about why the club was in the position it was in.
Collingwood had unceremoniously claimed the wooden spoon in 1999, finishing sixteenth. This was after finishing fifteenth the previous year and not competing in any finals since 1994. It was in debt and the century-old clubrooms at Victoria Park were in total disrepair.
Most people know how passionate the Collingwood faithful are; couple this passion with immense, stubborn pride and you can imagine how the hierarchies at the Magpies were feeling at this time. Yet there seemed to be no urgency to get to the heart of the problem.
Having come from a very businesslike set-up at the Eagles, where we enjoyed Premiership success in 1992 and 1994 and ten years of consecutive finals appearances, I began to question people within the ranks about why Collingwood had had such little success for so long. I asked what the problems were, who was responsible and what they thought needed to be done to fix the situation.
The range of excuses I received was almost comical. People blamed everything and everyone — from the AFL and the draft system to the umpires, among other things — for the Magpies' unfortunate position.
Perhaps this was the biggest problem of all. You have to admit your weaknesses to truly capitalise on your strengths; if no one at Collingwood was prepared to admit to failures, flaws and limitations, how could they achieve success, strength and achievement?
I felt something needed to be said, so I said it: 'We're the worst side because we're the worst side. We don't do the things required to be the best side. We can't take short cuts and we can't stand still. Other teams have moved past us.'
We couldn't stick our heads in the sand and hide from our problems anymore; we had to face reality if we were ever going to get better and move forward.
Consider some of the game's fallen heroes ... we've all seen them, former AFL players — some greats of the game — with tarnished images by the end of their careers. They make excuses for their behaviour time and time again. Blaming others, they place the fault with their clubs, alcohol and addictions and so-called 'unavoidable' circumstances, and yet — precisely because they refuse to accept any blame — their difficulties continue.
It's my belief that by standing up and being accountable for one's own decisions and actions, by taking full responsibility for one's own mistakes and misdemeanours, problems can be tackled more effectively, giving the individual (or the team) a chance at redemption.
A lot of changes were made to the Collingwood list at the end of 1999 — some of it my doing and some by retirements and other moves. We lost good players who were also good people — like Gavin Brown, who we kept on in a coaching role due to his experience and invaluable knowledge, as well as his strong character. We lost good people who weren't necessarily good players, or quite up to AFL standard. And we lost good players who unfortunately lacked the passion, drive and commitment to continue playing at a high level — the top level.
In 2000 we moved up one position, finishing fifteenth, though this time we did it with more wins and a younger side being developed for the future. In 2001 we finished ninth, just missing out on playing finals.
Early in the 2002 season we had won two and lost three games (having just been beaten by Carlton) when our then CEO, Greg Swann, came to me with some disappointing news. There was a strong drive from within the board suggesting it was my time to go. Some members weren't satisfied with where we were after Round 5 and they wanted a change of coach.
My immediate reaction was anger, then disappointment. Then I asked why. We had a young team undergoing a steady process of development. We were learning and we had been building on a game plan that worked with the strengths of the team. We were moving up. It was time for some self-analysis and a look at how things could be improved.
While angry and disappointed that doubt was undermining the unity I thought we had within the club, realising we weren't all on the same page allowed me to address the board's concerns through the CEO (for the countless time in my career) and I kept my position — for the moment.
When the board voiced its disquiet we started to move forward. This wasn't the first time in my career that my position had been threatened. You're rarely safe as a coach — it just goes with the job — though you do expect to be given every opportunity to prove your worth and you hope that the people in power govern with the same fair and considered business acumen that got them there.
We won the next five games to set up an exciting season and we went on to contest the grand final against an extraordinary opponent. We lost by eight points to a team that would dominate the competition for a further two years. (The Brisbane Lions are recognised as the most successful club of the early 2000s, having reached four consecutive grand finals and won three.) Although I was devastated by the loss, perhaps just as disappointing (when I reflected on the season) was the early knee-jerk reaction of some of the business-focussed board members, who were caught up in the passion of football being results-driven rather than method-driven.
Statistically, an AFL coach lasts five years in the job. I'm pretty lucky to have lasted 28 years! However, I think it's also been achieved through hard work, constant learning, being accountable and ready for change and adapting to stay ahead of the field.
All rational thinking goes out the window when misplaced passion reacts to a complex situation; rash and unwarranted decisions are commonly the result. The supporters can be as passionate as they like — the more passionate the better — but those in charge should remain level-headed. If they see problems, they should raise them and discuss them openly. If they have ideas, they should relay them to the appropriate person. If they want feedback, they should ask questions. They shouldn't listen to or give excuses. They shouldn't remain silent until it's too late. They shouldn't cast doubt before exploring the reasons.
Today at Collingwood we have a state-of-the-art training facility, we've had ultimate on-field success with a Premiership, we've played in more finals than any other club since 2002 and we are financially stable. We've overcome many hurdles to get to this point (both as a club and myself personally). Weaknesses have become strengths, problems have been addressed, mistakes have been redeemed and success has been achieved.
Rebuilding Collingwood took courage because, in order to build a new team, you have to remove the old. Mick began to gather people who had the necessary skills, who shared his dream and who would creatively contribute in their own right.
During the 2004 and 2005 seasons Collingwood performed poorly. Turbulence was brewing and change was inevitable. Unfortunately, many who were dedicated and committed were heavily scrutinised. A review like the Spanish Inquisition took place in search of scapegoats.
Intense and dedicated preparation does not automatically provide immunity to failure; all businesses need to assess and scrutinise underperformance. The result of such a review at Collingwood was that several well-respected staff and players were moved on. Those who were left had to rally together to develop a stronger and more galvanised unit that had belief and energy.
Few leaders are prepared to relinquish their own control to enable others to unleash their creativity. Mick is one of those few. One of the areas he thought needed attention was the players' fitness. During their first meeting, Mick asked David what he could do for the players. David's response was to ask Mick what type of athlete he wanted him to mould and to promise to do it. From this meeting a mutual respect was born; David knew that he would not coach the team on game day, just as Mick knew he would not control the match fitness of any player.
New methods
Each year, through acceptance of change and embracing innovations, Collingwood continues to develop and improve.
David — Mt Humphreys, Flagstaff, Arizona
An ascent of Mt Humphreys was one of many challenges faced by the players on this training camp. This particular day, 18 November 2009, would be a day of intense physical and psychological challenge among the group. Hiking through the San Francisco Peaks and conquering the summit of Mt Humphreys was no Sunday stroll.
The frenetic pace set by the coach soon challenged everyone's ventilation. It wasn't long before the banter among the group had ceased as each player had to focus on simply breathing.
Among the scattered, white-lined Aspen pines nestling in deep layers of powdered snow, the Collingwood playing squad and support staff trailed up the challenging gradient. The group was confronted by temperatures dropping to 35°C below zero, winds exceeding 100 kilometres per hour and an altitude of almost 4000 metres.
The group's momentum was rhythmic, with no signs of fragmentation or slackening of the pace. We had a mission and a journey to complete. Many had never experienced snow, let alone such reducing oxygen levels as the altitude increased. These young men were being exposed to conditions that displayed little — if anything — in common with their game of football.
Regular assessment of the staff and players' oxygen saturation levels throughout the climb was crucial; if anyone's oxygen levels dropped too low, there was a high risk of acute altitude sickness. As we progressed, some players and staff had significantly reduced oxygen levels. They slowed down their hiking cadence and began falling behind the main group.
With every step the conditions worsened and trepidation magnified. Fear was present, yet not a word was spoken, indicating the true feelings that the group secretly harboured: a desire to abort the expedition and return to camp.
Step by step, the team continued to honour its original commitment. Everyone was feeling pain, yet each was aware of their role as a part of a 'uniform motion'. They knew their quest to achieve the ascent was only achievable as a team. It was a day that the group would be able to draw upon often in times to come.
The discipline of sports science in elite sport has experienced exponential growth over the last 20 years. Before he came to Collingwood, David spent four years working part-time with the North Melbourne Football Club during the mid-1990s under coach Denis Pagan. His studies and research had alerted him to many new training techniques and he was keen to trial them on the Kangaroos.
At one training session in 1995 David placed heart-rate monitors on the players, something not part of his usual training regime. Denis asked what he was doing. When David explained that he wanted to monitor their training intensity and gauge how hard they were working during specific drills, Denis retorted, 'You're going down Scientific Street son!' and told him to take them off as they would distract the players while training.
Like all coaches, Denis was keen for success. He heard that the Adelaide Crows had used heart-rate monitors around the same time and so sports science started to gain his respect. As the club became more determined to win a Premiership, David's position was changed to full-time. By the start of 1996 preseason training, all players were urged to buy heart-rate monitors.
David — Ice baths and Darren Crocker
One of the enjoyable aspects of the job of a sports scientist is to help an athlete get back on track after an injury. In 1995 at North Melbourne I was working with Darren Crocker as he was coming back from an anterior cruciate ligament injury (commonly referred to as a knee reconstruction). Darren — affectionately known as Crock — had been at North for ten years and was well respected. I enjoyed our training sessions together because we were able to inject a sense of humour into our daily routine.
I had been looking at methods to help accelerate his recovery. After one rehab session, I placed six bags of ice in an old bath at our training facilities (under the famous Arden Street grandstand). I told Crock that I wanted him to hop into the ice bath and then immediately jump into a hot bath.
Because we usually joked around so much, he looked at me as if I was fooling around. Straight-faced, I told him that I would get in there first. Realising I wasn't joking, he asked me what this would do for him and where I had got the crazy idea from. I told him that the Russians had been doing it for years and that it had been successful component in many of their training regimes. He laughed and asked where they got the idea. I told him that, in fact, it had come from the Romans some 2000 years ago.
On further questioning I explained that it would decrease swelling and enhance his recovery. As he followed me in he exclaimed, 'You must be mad Butters!' Little did he know at the time that ice baths would become a regular recovery routine in his future years as a coach.
Darren Crocker — Ice baths
As I was lying on the bench at Skinner Reserve after I did my knee, I thought I would have to retire because of my previous injuries. But I was fortunate to play again that year and in '96, '97 and '98.
Because of a number of past injuries, I was apprehensive, but I was also willing to do whatever was offered so I could get back to playing again. I knew we were onto something great and I wanted to be a part of it — you could have told me to walk across hot coals and I would have tried it, I just wanted to get back to my pre-knee-reco form.
Ice baths were very foreign at the time David got me into them. I was doing them before their time as I used to pull up so much better. I was 28 or 29 and I got back in time to play in the preliminary final against Carlton. I continued to use this approach and I remember at the time being about the only one to use ice baths after playing.
After almost four years at North Melbourne, David was given the opportunity to expand his understanding of sports science further when he moved to Sydney to work with athletes preparing for the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. The innovative techniques used there confirmed many of his theories and he added some highly progressive methods to his repertoire.
Every AFL club strives hard to develop an edge over its competitors and Collingwood is no different. David felt that footballers and their trainers had much to learn from their Olympic colleagues. Why couldn't AFL clubs follow the training formats used by these elite athletes? Wasn't it time to challenge the conservatism of existing practice in the AFL? David believed the time was right to think outside the square if Collingwood was to achieve a competitive advantage. Ice baths had now become a common part of recovery and training in the AFL; another key method he felt was paramount in the success of these Olympic athletes was altitude training.
In 2000, David had spent several weeks in Arizona preparing the Olympic swimmers and he noticed their extremely positive training and performance improvements in that environment. In three weeks these athletes came back with fitness levels that would normally have taken them two months to achieve. He also noticed how they could tolerate greater loads back at sea level and how the risk of overtraining was minimised, giving them the opportunity to focus on quality, not quantity.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Ox is Slow But the Earth is Patient by Mick Malthouse, David Buttifant. Copyright © 2011 Mick Malthouse and David Buttifant. Excerpted by permission of Allen & Unwin.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Foreword,Introduction • The partnership,
Chapter 1 • Shaping the team,
Chapter 2 • Baking a great cake,
Chapter 3 • Operations,
Chapter 4 • Balance,
Chapter 5 • Leadership,
Chapter 6 • Coaching and mentoring,
Chapter 7 • What makes them tick,
Chapter 8 • Overcoming setbacks and adversity,
Chapter 9 • Forward thinking,
Chapter 10 • People you meet along the way,
Acknowledgements,
About the authors,