Elite bosses are consumed by the need for control and the media are paying the price
Confrontations with the Irish media are part of a much bigger picture for elite coaches
FEAR not. This is no anguished plea for the poor, put upon media to be treated nicely.
In fact, the media are not the story here (difficult as that is for many in the trade to accept).
Rather, the rows involving Joe Schmidt, Jim Gavin and Martin O’Neill that have blistered their dealings with the fourth estate in recent weeks are about control.
The exercise of it is one of the most important jobs facing any leading sports coach. Time and again, it has been shown that successful environments are ones in which a strong figure wields unquestioned control.
Look at the Manchester United of Alex Ferguson, Kilkenny under Brian Cody, New Zealand under Graham Henry and now Steve Hansen.
They were not environments in which everyone had their say. The most ambitious dressing rooms are the most ruthless ones, their climate shaped by the moods and intentions of one dominant figure.
The Irish rugby team are the most popular side in the country, their wins and their capacity for generating happy Monday morning conversations placing them well ahead of their soccer brethren.
Schmidt is building a squad of players capable of contending not merely for the Six Nations but also in the latter stages of the World Cup next year.
That is what consumes his attention, and the testimony of players and those who work with him describes conditions in which excellence and attention to the slenderest detail is expected.
Those standards are driven by senior players like Johnny Sexton and Peter O’Mahony, but they are set by Schmidt. He wants everything to be done correctly, and nothing to interfere with the goals of his team.
When that determination leaks out of the closed world these professional teams inhabit, as it has done in this disagreement with rugby journalists, it looks less like the pursuit of the highest possible standards, than an unreasonable attempt to control a free press.
Schmidt has more on his mind — and he certainly should have more to concern him — than the machinations of the Irish sports media, or in engaging in a debate about the nature of free speech.
This seems more to be an extension of the attempt to control as much of the details around his squad and their preparations as possible.
That is not to defend how the IRFU have done their business in recent weeks: this is an entirely unnecessary controversy.
Control explains the apparent resumption of tensions between Jim Gavin and RTÉ. Whatever specifically triggered his refusal to speak to reporters after recent matches, it has contributed to negative headlines when Dublin should be celebrated anew.
Their supporters are convinced this side have not got the respect their three All-Irelands in a row deserve, and it does seem certain that history will record their greatness without the grudging acknowledgements that are contained in some contemporaneous accounts.
This is down to media bias, argue their fans, but Dublin have been generally fairly treated. Their controversies have been of their own making, and that includes this latest one.
But like Schmidt, Gavin has cultivated brilliance in conditions where he assumes control. He is in charge. What he says, goes. And as with Schmidt, there is occasionally conflict when that power structure confronts the outside world. Then, the control that makes winning possible inside the camp, looks like domineering behaviour.
Unlike Schmidt and Gavin, Martin O’Neill (below) hasn’t bothered with media exclusions. Being older than the other two, perhaps he is long enough on the circuit to realise how petty they are. In his increasingly fraught interactions with RTÉ’s Tony O’Donoghue, though, O’Neill’s behaviour exhibits the same effort at control. He is in charge of millionaire athletes who do what he says, in camps where every need is attended to promptly. In his interviews with O’Donoghue, O’Neill behaves like a man unused to hearing contrary views.
The worlds in which these men carry out their sporting duties are zealously guarded.
Nobody outside their carefully policed circles knows how often Schmidt, Gavin or O’Neill hear the word no in those conditions, or face situations where their word isn’t absolute law, but it’s reasonable to suppose it doesn’t happen often.
They need to realise that there is a point at which their control ends. The media have to be fair, but they deserve to be treated with respect and common decency, too.
However, Schmidt, Gavin and O’Neill understand the sensitivities of the press are of less interest to the public than winning teams.
Results justify everything. Controlling coaches learned that a long time ago.