Pressure can either be a tool, or it can crush you | Graham Cornes

Please excuse the cynicism when we read of AFL coaches struggling under the burden of the job, writes Graham Cornes.

Pressure.

I recently observed an SA Ambulance crew in action during a medical crisis. Calm, professional and controlled, they de-escalated the situation and transported the patient safely to hospital.

They are a fine looking group that can make even a green uniform look attractive. Politics aside, we should be very proud of the work they do, often dealing with the extreme trauma of much more horrific incidents.

That’s pressure.

On the third of May, SA Police Brevet Sergeant Ian Todd, while responding to a routine complaint in Crystal Brook, was stabbed in the neck by a deranged Sean Ferris. His partner, Brevet Sergeant, Jordan Allely, who was also stabbed, had no option but to shoot the assailant who subsequently died.

That’s pressure.

This one is personal because I know the hero. On January 15, 1971, a kilometre east of the Dinh Co monastery in Phuoc Tuy Province in South Vietnam, Private Milton Dufty, a national serviceman from Kempsey in NSW was shot through the chest. Three other members of his platoon were wounded in the action.

The platoon medic, Private Tony Krantis, a South Australian who lived no more than 200m from the Bay Oval, was commended by the section commander for his bravery while working desperately under fire to save Private Dufty.

Unfortunately, the wounded private died. Private Krantis’s salary, including combat allowance, was $55 per week.

That’s pressure.

Damien Hardwick the coach of the Tigers speaks to the media as he announced his retirement. Picture: Quinn Rooney/Getty Images

So please excuse the cynicism when we read of AFL coaches struggling under the burden of the job. Of course there is pressure, particularly when the team is struggling or is failing to live up to expectations, but when you accept the position, you know the pressure will inevitably come.

You are appointed because it is expected that you can handle the pressure. Besides, given the professionalism of AFL clubs, surely the battery of psychological testing that is done before any candidate is appointed would reveal those who can, and those who can’t withstand the rigours of the job.

Damien Hardwick succumbed to the pressure this week when he announced he was stepping away from the Richmond coaching position. In his 14th season in that position, he owes the club nothing – well, almost nothing. He did have an obligation to see out his contract.

Hardwick deserves to be revered at Richmond. When he accepted the coaching position in 2010, Richmond had not played finals football for eight years. It had not won a flag since 1980.

The club was a laughing stock. It took him four years to lift the Tigers into the top eight, where they precariously resided before sliding to 13th position in 2016. He was almost sacked but somehow survived, which preceded what surely must be the most amazing recovery in AFL history.

In the following 2017 season, in round 16, the Tigers lost to St Kilda by 67 points and were in sixth position on the ladder. It was inconceivable that they could win that year’s premiership but aided by the implosion of the Crows and the emergence of a once-in-a-generation player in Dustin Martin, they did.

Then, the most remarkable sequence of three premierships in four years ensured Hardwick’s football immortality. Two premierships as a player and three as a coach ensures his elevation to the Australian Football Hall of Fame and definitely has him in the discussion for Legend status.

However, the over-riding philosophy of the AFL is of equalisation. The system, underpinned by draft and salary cap, is designed so the strong teams eventually will fail. Richmond this season is struggling and Hardwick has been under pressure. A marriage break-up in recent years inevitably would have added another layer of pressure.

So he has walked away from the club. It doesn’t tarnish his legacy as he was given a hero’s farewell in appreciation for the glory that he had brought to Richmond. But…..

Hardwick’s resignation then set off a chain reaction of speculation of who would replace him as senior coach and where he might end up if he decides to return to coaching at a future date. Clubs better make sure their coaches are locked away, but poor Stuart Dew has to endure the pressure that he will be replaced by Hardwick at Gold Coast.

Port Adelaide senior coach Ken Hinkley. Picture: James Elsby

Despite the intention that Port and Ken Hinkley have resolved not to negotiate any new terms until August, Port Adelaide is being urged to move quickly to re-sign Ken Hinkley, so that he can’t be poached by clubs needing a new coach.

A different type of pressure.

Actually, Hinkley would be well advised not to re-sign until then anyway. Given the criticism that he has to endure, even when his team is one of the best performed in the competition, some Port supporters are not worthy of his service.

Another legendary coach, Alastair Clarkson, fell to the pressure and took leave recently. The North Melbourne coach whose legacy at Hawthorn should have been unquestioned, eventually succumbed to exterior pressure.

The catalyst was a journalist who published untested allegations of racism.

Then follows an ongoing inquiry and constant challenges to his integrity. He has not yet had the right of reply to allow him release from the tension.

Adam Simpson, a premiership coach at West Coast has visibly aged over the past two seasons as his team crumbles.

Reports say he will be advised to take several months mental health leave when the season is over. Smart coaches like Kevin Sheedy used to do that any way.

Is coaching at the elite level more difficult and stressful than it was 20 years ago? Legendary NRL coach Wayne Bennett scoffs at that suggestion.

He points out that he has never had so much help, given the investment in assistant coaches, strength and conditioning coaches, medical staff, sports psychologists, dieticians and other specialist assistants.

The normally taciturn Bennett, who never backs down from criticism, recently coached his 900th NRL game. He has endured every possible slight to his character and ability.

With a working-class family background, he knows what real pressure is.

Abandoned by an alcoholic father when he was 11, he left school early to assist his family. He served as a police officer before his rugby league career consumed him.

He knows the perspective of sporting pressure and the realities of life.

AFL coaches today earn between $500,000 and $1.2million, so with that salary comes an appropriate degree of pressure. AFL chief executive, Gillon McLachlan acknowledges it but seems to have little sympathy.

“It’s about resilience,” he said on Friday.

“If you’re going to work in this environment you have to accept that there will be these levels of pressure.”

The pressure an AFL coach experiences is nothing like that endured by our emergency department medicos, our first responders – the ambos, police and firefighters who earn a fraction of what an AFL coach does.

What about parents struggling to meet ever-increasing cost-of-living expenses and continuous mortgage increases?

Now that is pressure.

They can only dream of earning a million dollars a year

No one will argue AFL coaches are under the pressure that comes with increased scrutiny and levels of performance, but there are two ways to handle pressure. You can embrace it and use it as an instrument of improvement.

Or you can allow it to crush you – at the expense of your players, your club and its supporters.