Lam uses father’s life struggles to inspire rise of Bristol’s culture club
Bears’ director of rugby says dad’s relentless hard work and darkest moment of career have informed approach to coaching
DEPUTY RUGBY CORRESPONDENT
‘Iam a big fan of the Rocky movies,” Pat Lam, Bristol’s director of rugby, says with a grin. “He came from humble beginnings, got darren gough the flash things, but went back to the old way.”
Right now, Bristol have the flashiest stadium in Ashton Gate, the flashiest training ground in their sparkling new high-performance centre and the flashiest players after the summer signings of Semi Radradra and Kyle Sinckler, who will spearhead their play-off push starting today against Saracens.
Of course, it is easy to be cynical about the Bears. To adapt the famous Mrs Merton quote to Radradra and Sinckler: what first attracted you to billionaire Steve Lansdown’s Bristol? At every turn at the £11.5 million high-performance centre – Lam refuses to call it a training ground – you are greeted by a wall adorned with an inspirational quote. Not since Boy George was in his pomp has a man mentioned culture as much as Lam.
Yet Lam, a proud Samoan, sincerely believes in every word he utters. The quotes are not faddish gimmicks, but statements of intent personally written by Lam or another member of Bristol’s staff. If you were to crudely categorise directors of rugby then Saracens’ Mark Mccall and Northampton’s Chris
Boyd are the quiet, cerebral types. Sale’s Steve Diamond and Rob Baxter of Exeter, meanwhile, come from a bluecollar school of hard knocks. Lam belongs in his own bracket: a missionary whose evangelical zeal sweeps everyone along with him.
To those who question whether he can accomplish his lofty goal of winning the Champions Cup without English rugby’s fattest chequebook, just look at what he achieved at Connacht. Among the poorest Pro12 teams, Lam could not buy superstars. Instead, he created them, turning the likes of Bundee Aki and Robbie Henshaw into established Ireland internationals.
In the same year that Leicester City won the Premier League, Connacht captured the Pro12 title working off an even greater disparity in resources. It remains Lam’s defining achievement – so far – but to truly understand the man you need to go back to the darkest moment of his coaching career. Lam had taken over as head coach of his hometown Auckland Blues in 2009. Within two years, he had taken them to a fourth-place Super Rugby finish, earning a first home play-off since 2003.
But in 2012, results dipped. All coaches are questioned when losses mount, but in Lam’s case the doubts were expressed in racial terms, with a Samoan coaching a largely Maori and Islander squad. For Lam, one of the toughest players to grace the Premiership with Newcastle and Northampton, the racist abuse was water off a duck’s back. “At a press conference, I was asked a question about Pacific Islanders only playing certain positions or not being able to coach,” Lam said. “I just laughed at it.” Then someone asked whether it affected his parents. At this point, Lam got “emotional”. Tears started to well. Of course this was used as further evidence for unsuitability for the role and he left the Blues at the end of the season (coincidentally they have finished no higher than ninth in seven subsequent seasons).
Reflecting on that press conference, Lam says: “The problem was my parents, who had been through the struggle and knew the struggle. I told them I am not bothered by it, but they listen to that stuff. That’s when I got emotional because I was thinking about my dad and no one knows what his journey has been like. No one knew his struggle.”
This is his struggle. Aged 19, Sonny Lam was sent on a boat to New Zealand to find his father (also Patrick), who he had not seen since he was an infant. Sonny found him and quickly picked up his trade as a carpenter. He then became a kitchen assistant for Air New Zealand, but had higher aspirations.
“He decided he wanted to become one of the bosses,” Lam says. “He trained at night school. He was not around much when I was younger and I later realised he was working two jobs and doing night school. He eventually became one of the best pastry chefs in the country and one of the bosses up there.”
As part of his retirement package, Sonny, who turns 80 in February, gets an annual free flight from Air New Zealand, although all travel plans are on hold because of Covid-19. “He worked and worked and worked,” Lam says. “When people say these people [Islanders] can’t do this or can’t do that, that’s when I think of his story. I try to put myself in his shoes and imagine if I did not have my parents.”
This is where Lam’s prodigious work ethic comes from and why he has self-funded many of his personal development opportunities, particularly in sports psychology. So, while the coach with the Premiership’s richest owner may appear to have an easy ride, Lam was forged in adversity.
“When I turned 50, people were saying, ‘Jeez, how do you feel to be 50?’ and I said I felt I was in the best place of my life,” Lam said. “At 3536, I had won two titles as a coach and thought I was great, but now know I was terrible because I had not been through those tough experiences. I have learnt that you go through tough times, but you come out the other end and you realise you feel better for it. You know tough times don’t last.
“All these quotes are true when you live it. I say to the players it is a straight choice when you have Billy Vunipola running at you: are you going to fight or are you going to take flight? Those are the decisions you have to take in life.”
‘When you have Billy Vunipola running at you are you going to fight or take flight?’