The terrific, tortured tale of three coaches

capture-2Amid all the hoopla that followed the extraordinary cricket victory at Bellerive Oval in Hobart last week, there was a curious non-event.

We all forgot about the coach, Russell Domingo. There were backslaps and high-fives for Kagiso Rabada, Kyle Abbott, Quinton de Kock and the rest, but Domingo was little more than an afterthought.

Who’d be a coach, huh?

Just five months ago Domingo was fighting for his life as coach, denigrated and criticised for SA’s lame showing in the tri-series in the Caribbean. Under pressure to resign, he hit back: “I am not a guy who wants to give up or quit.”

The schizophrenia that defines much of the way South Africans reflect sport – from both extremes and seldom down the middle – is perfectly found in our Jekyll and Hyde treatment of Domingo. When the Proteas are hopeless, it is his doing. When they are outstanding, he is superfluous, an incidental adjunct to the team success.

The Proteas never won the series in Australia by accident. And nor did they clean up in the recent one-day series at home simply playing by instinct. There was a plan strategised by Domingo and his management team. They helped frame the mood and energy of the Proteas, a happy by-product of a management that palpably enjoys the respect of the players.

This is no easy task. Just ask Australia for whom the blame game has begun. Selection boss Rod Marsh has already walked. There will likely be more such victims as the recriminations build.

Domingo will doubtless be enjoying himself, albeit quietly, for that is his style. He might even summon a thought or two about his luckless contemporaries in rugby and soccer.

The Springbok coaching job is said to be the worst gig in SA sport, a thankless assignment that polarises people. I would venture that the Bafana Bafana coach’s job is far tougher, simply on the basis that soccer is the national game and enjoys vastly more support from South Africans; ergo the pressure is amplified.

Allister Coetzee and Shakes Mashaba are both having a tough time of it.

Coetzee’s Springboks just haven’t fired. His selections, game plan and playing style have all been criticised, which is easy to do as the team is in a spiral of confusion. Because his management team is so young (and inexperienced) he has no mentor to turn to, no-one to point the way. And so the criticism has mounted. The Bok job broke Heyneke Meyer’s spirit. When he walked away, he did so as a disillusioned, disappointed man. The job hurt him, as it often does.

This is why someone like Nick Mallett runs a mile when a big job possibility is floated. Why would he want to take on that pain and nonsense? Sometimes money just isn’t enough. Sanity and self-worth are hard-won virtues.

Coetzee is already wearing the look of a tormented man who cannot fathom a way out of his situation. He might survive the slings and arrows, but at what cost?

And so to Mashaba, whose end appears in sight. It’s not often that a Bafana coach can see off a team like Senegal and feel like his world is caving in, but such is Mashaba’s lot. Suspended for losing his temper with the wrong people, his inability to curb his baser instincts have landed him in deep trouble.

He wasn’t always like this. As an age-group coach he was an avuncular figure known for his warmth and good humour. But the Bafana job wears down its victims. The media scrutiny is intense and unforgiving. Mashaba, to his detriment, never seemed to know how to work the press to his favour. Journalists don’t number among his pals, so when the heat was turned up, there was no-one defending his case.

He’s clearly in the cross hairs of his bosses, who have grown impatient with his strops.

If nothing else, the contrasting tales of the three coaches reflect the savage wheel that turns for sport. Every team has its run at glory. They also have their abject failings.

The coach who can successfully navigate both extremes is the one who thrives. Trouble is, not many can. – © Sunday Tribune