Heretics are questioning our hallowed ABs captain
Are we, Mark Reason asks, so in awe of the great Richie McCaw that we cannot mention the unmentionable?
LAST SATURDAY night the heavens opened and it rained blasphemy. The All Blacks were not Almighty. Kieran Read was not the second coming. And huddled in a corner of the land was a group of fearful heretics. They looked around them and they whispered: ‘‘God is not a great leader of men.’’
In secret meetings across the country, word is being passed that Richie McCaw, hero, future knight, man of honour, may not be the captain that New Zealand needs in a crisis. There has always been a suspicion of this. McCaw’s tactical flexibility under the pump has been queried before. But last weekend, where was the fire of inspiration when his team needed it most?
A particularly articulate correspondent wrote to me: ‘‘The All Blacks are being led by an Emperor who wears no clothes. His name (dare I whisper it?) is Richie McCaw. OK, you may well laugh. Good on you! It is a bit funny when you think about it. But tragic too.
‘‘So why don’t you tell him? Why don’t we all tell him? No, we shut up, all of us. And the crowds cheer, and the flags wave, and parade goes by, and the gifts pile up, and we worship his person because he is a legend. I admit it. I worship the man. He is a genius. One in a generation.
‘‘But someone has got to tell him that his on-field leadership is useless. We are confusing the legend of the player with the captain on the field. He is effing useless as a captain. This is why the All Blacks are failing at crucial moments.’’
I did not laugh. Indeed a couple of months ago, when full of praise for McCaw’s return from his broken thumb, I noted the youthful enthusiasm of his performance. I suggested at the time that, to preserve his vigour, maybe McCaw could be relieved of the All Blacks captaincy and rested from the arduous trips to Argentina, South Africa and Europe.
McCaw is a superb off-field leader. He is a man of dignity and humility. He constantly drives the standards of the team. He is an icon. Graham Henry said: ‘‘He could be prime minister, governor general, coach of the All Blacks all put together.’’ It is a fair reflection of the esteem in which we all hold the man. But even the great scavenger cannot turn over Time. If you look on film at the McCaw of eight years ago and the player he has become now, there is no doubt that, along with the headgear, some of the fizz has gone.
A heavier McCaw has been toting the weight of a nation for eight long years. Where do the new words come from when you have been talking for three-thousand days? It is all very well to say, ‘‘Follow me,’’ but that is not so easily done when you are being repeatedly cleaned out at the breakdown.
McCaw has a phenomenal record as captain and I expect him to have added to that record of 91 victories last night. But McCaw’s victory percentage as a captain (89) is the same as his percentage as just a player. You just wonder if there will be enough there, at the age of 34, to drive this team through his third World Cup as skipper.
Mud and guts: But do we need more from Richie McCaw?
So why don’t you tell him? Why don’t we all tell him? No, we shut up, all of us. And the crowds cheer, and the flags wave, and parade goes by, and the gifts pile up, and we worship his person because he is a legend. I admit it. I worship the man. He is a genius. One in a generation.
And, if a match hangs in the balance, as it always has for the All Blacks at overseas World Cups, will McCaw be able to find a ‘‘cry God for Richie’’ rallying call. The oldest previous winning captain was 31. It’s a long, hard road.
In 2006 I seem to remember Tana Umaga circling the troops after the Lions scored early, but that sort of rhetoric does not come so easily to McCaw, the strong, silent type. In 2007 after World Cup defeat against France, McCaw said, ‘‘If I knew the answers we would have sorted it out.’’ Last Saturday it was Steve Hansen who pounded his fist at halftime.
My correspondent wanted Richie to turn up the blowtorch. He wrote this wishful speech for Richie: ‘‘Think, guys, think. And I want more aggression from everyone. Don’t just carry the ball up. Carry the effing ball up. Don’t tackle the opposition. Knock the bastards over. I want more aggression. More drive. Give it to me.
‘‘We have got to kill these bastards. Wipe them out. Now here is the deal: From now on we are going to bring the ball back into the forwards and keep it there until we are knocking at the door. Then we will take it wide.
‘‘And no more effing kicking down field. They are running it back at us. Phase after phase. One last thing. Remember this, you are not throwing a rugby ball around the field. It is a baby. It is has just got out of the bath and it is covered in soapy water. Very slippery! DON’T DROP IT. Pass carefully. Pass a bit sooner.
‘‘Now. Right back into it. Remember keep the ball in the forwards from now on. Give ’em nothing. Trample the bastards into the mud.’’
Sometimes blood and thunder is the only way. Is it time to hand over to Read? Pick a number from 2 to 9, the spread of victorious World Cup captains. Is Sam Whitelock, who has not led since his school days, an option, or does he lack mana?
Is there a man to take over – in the future Sam Cane may be the man. Should the All Blacks, like the Chiefs, have an on-field and offfield captain? Or does McCaw, somehow, one last time, just have to pull something out from deep within.
Henry calls McCaw: ‘‘One of the great captains of New Zealand rugby, up there with Wilson Whineray, Brian Lochore, Graeme Mourie, Buck Shelford and Sean Ftizpatrick. He’s a very special man.’’ Yes, but even kings get tired. Let’s hope McCaw plundered his soul and found the mana to inspire his men again last night.