Umaga: We all have to get better
It is make-or-break time for the respected third-year Blues coach, reports MARC HINTON.
FOR a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Tana Umaga sure presents an upbeat persona as he arrives for our chat at Blues headquarters in a flurry of dreadlocks and enthusiasm, a coffee in one hand, the other thrusting forward for a firm handshake.
Umaga, or ‘T’ as he’s known, is by nature an optimist who backs his instincts, and would have been entitled to feel a little grumpy this day. He had just found out his young first fiveeighths Stephen Perofeta – the man dubbed the ‘‘future’’ of the franchise – had fractured his hand in the warm-up clash against the Chiefs, and would miss at least the first month of the season. This after a major knee injury removed his star off-season No 10 signing Otere Black, before he’d even slipped on a Blues training jersey.
But Umaga is relaxed, engaging and, as much as a man with a natural wariness of the media can be, reflective and transparent in a prolonged discussion. He doesn’t do many of these in-depth interviews, but not because of any lack of capability.
Let’s set the scene. He is about to start his third Super Rugby season with the Blues after being brought in as the elixir to an ailing franchise. So far the revival mission has fallen well short of the objective.
‘‘It’s not good enough,’’ he says. ‘‘We’ve got to make the playoffs – that’s a bare minimum. That’s what we’re striving for and the sole measurement of success. We can’t beat around the bush. We’re going to develop players, and we know we’ve got some good pathways, but we want them coming into an environment that’s all about success.’’
That remains an elusive goal. They have made the playoffs once in the last decade. Since their last semifinal appearance in 2011, the Blues have finished 12th, 10th, 10th, 14th, 11th and ninth. Over that time, their record has reflected an organisation going nowhere fast: they have had one winning record (2016), which was still the worst in the crack Kiwi conference.
Umaga, now 44, is in the final term of his initial three-year deal with the franchise, and may or may not be under the gun to deliver. Some reports have suggested his retention is a fait accompli, and that the franchise is content with progress made. Last year’s epic upset of the Lions was a sure tick in his box. Like the Titanic, this is a big beast to turn around.
Umaga refuses to acknowledge ‘‘culture’’, or lack of it, is the Blues’ primary failure. But he does accept that he has a much tougher task establishing a tight, familial type unit in his adopted far-flung city than others do.
‘‘We work hard to build good relationships here with players and families, but it is harder. We’re not like Dunedin and Hamilton where I can ring you and say ‘see you in 10 minutes’ and we can be in the middle of town. We’ve talked to the players about making time sacrifices. We want them to spend time with their families, but we also want them to spend time with each other because that’s the only way you get to know each other.’’
He is also making fundamental, structural change this year. Auggie Pulu as skipper is a bold call, designed to shake things up. ‘‘He connects with a lot of people, and we just needed a new direction’’ says the coach. ‘‘If we keep doing the same things, then you get the same results.’’
If there is a missing ingredient, it has been identified as the decision-making process in crucial moments.
‘‘We’re not far away . . . now it’s about putting ourselves in position and handling those pressure moments,’’ adds Umaga. ‘‘That’s easier said than done. We’re trying to emulate that in trainings. We’re looking to find the balance between making sure we’re confident, but not overconfident. Also when we’re going well, don’t think it’s going to turn bad because that’s what happened previously.’’
It is an intriguing position Umaga finds himself in, early in his coaching career. As a player the game came so easily to him he seldom had occasion to question himself or his methods. He was a fabulous wing for the Hurricanes and All Blacks, then morphed into one of the most destructive midfielders in the game, and eventually matured into a fine national captain.
For the first time in his life he is having to ask himself whether he is good enough. Whether he has the tools to succeed.
‘‘That’s the beauty of coaching,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s not what you know, it’s what you can relate to your players, and they know. It’s a waste of time me knowing everything and they don’t know anything. There’s not a lot you can do once the game starts from up in the stands.
‘‘That’s been a learning for me: it’s hard for the players to understand what’s going on in my mind if I can’t relay it. But also how much is enough? You give them everything and they’ll only take one or two things. You can’t overload them.
‘‘That’s probably the art of teaching. I hope I’m getting better at it, but the proof will be in what’s happening out on the field.’’
Umaga isn’t in this alone. He’s had to upskill himself dramatically to deal with the technical aspects of his new craft, not to mention the mental challenges. ‘‘I’ve got mentors in different fields, yet in the same kind of environment where they are leading and teaching. I’ve met people in the military and business who I like to touch base with and have a chat.’’
Grasping the changing rugby environment, ‘‘where 24 is the new 30’’ has also been a challenge. Umaga came through in a scene forged on the principality of mentorship, yet it is now such a scarce resource because players just don’t stay around that long. He understands what a luxury it is to have a Jerome Kaino and a James Parsons, but he’d love two or three more.
And that Kiwi conference, where the margin for error is gossamer thin?
‘‘It is the reality, but also it’s great. You’re always playing the best, and you should always want to be playing the best. That should excite us.’’
We’ve got to make the playoffs – that’s a bare minimum.’