Matty Johns: Des Hasler deserves better from Titans playing group who have no right to complain
A bad attitude spreads like a virus, and it has infected the Gold Coast Titans dressing room. Des Hasler’s blast may have looked savage, but it was sorely needed, MATTY JOHNS writes.
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“That’s all I can stands, cause I can’t stands no more.”
Those immortal words, spoken by Popeye the Sailor Man seconds before he would explode into a fury of left crosses and right uppercuts, descended into my brain when I saw Titans coach Des Hasler go volcanic after another poor performance from his Gold Coast team against the Wests Tigers.
Short of pulling out the stock whip, Hasler has tried everything to get this playing group performing like an NRL team.
Then, last week, a report surfaced of alleged player discontent around Hasler’s coaching methods.
TITANS’ NO RIGHT TO COMPLAIN
A team needs to earn the right to complain about their coach. And the Titans’ performances, individually and collectively, should see these players having a stern conversation into a mirror, rather than pointing the finger at a man who has won competitions, both wearing boots and carrying clipboards.
A losing dressing room contains plenty of dynamite.
The coach feeling pressure, the superstars wearing criticism, some players hurting like hell and some players who don’t really care.
The players who don’t really care, they sit in every team. In the elite teams they don’t so much hide, as get converted.
In the bottom teams, their attitudes spread like Covid.
THE DAY THINGS TURNED PHYSICAL
We had a couple when I played at Newcastle, until they were pushed out of the team.
After one particularly bad afternoon in Canberra, where the Raiders gave us a thorough hammering, most of us were distraught at the embarrassment we had just endured, while two teammates sat in the corner of the dressing room laughing hysterically.
A couple of our old hard-head forwards adjusted their attitudes using methods both verbal and physical.
Some care so much, some so little.
I’m told Hasler had addressed the group vigorously and then the players went to the showers.
What happened next to cause the explosion is uncertain.
I’m told it was in reaction to something Hasler either heard or saw in the shower room … a laugh? Some jovial banter?
Who’d want to be a coach.
WHY I HAVEN’T BEEN IN A COACHES BOX IN 20 YEARS
Every single coach is under pressure, even Craig Bellamy.
Coaches like Bellamy deal with self-inflicted pressure, the expectations they oppose on themselves.
One night at Brookvale Oval in 2006, Melbourne took on Manly and I was invited into the Storm coaching box.
The Storm were on a five-game winning streak and I expected a low-key, educational experience.
However, it was a bludger of a night for the Melburnians; Manly needed to win and their desperation overwhelmed the Storm, who had a rare night off in the 34-12 defeat.
Bellamy was apocalyptic in the box. It was as if the team were bottom of the ladder. I’ve never been in a coaches box since and hopefully never will.
For Bellamy, it was all about standards, the preparation that everyone associated to the team had put in, only for the players to not turn up.
The team didn’t need to be told how poor their efforts were, but Craig told them anyway.
As champion teams do, they responded to the blast and began another winning streak — this one 11 straight games.
INSIDE THE DRESSING ROOM MISERY
How coaches deal with pressure separates the bad from the good, and the good from the great.
I’ve been coached by men who were brilliant tacticians but would go to pieces as soon as the side lost three in a row.
Premiership coach Chris Anderson would say “forget about the resume, you don’t know what type of coach someone is until they’ve lost three on the trot and have to figure out how to get the team out of the hole.”
Some can’t.
When your coach is under the pump the dressing room is a miserable place to be.
The video sessions become horror films, the team meetings become witch-hunts and the media become the enemy.
Malcolm Reilly was the greatest coach I’d ever had, not because he was a tactical genius, but because he was unmoved by pressure.
THE CIRALDO-RYLES EFFECT
I’ve got huge respect for Cameron Ciraldo and Jason Ryles.
Ciraldo knew he was taking on a difficult job as Canterbury coach when he took it heading into the 2023 season, but even then he underestimated the enormity of the task.
In his first year, the Bulldogs regressed, finishing 15th, yet he was able to hold his nerve.
Most rookie coaches would fall apart, but Ciraldo stayed the course and was able to alleviate the pressure off his players and educate them on the style of football that would be the catalyst for the club re-emerging as a powerhouse.
Likewise, has been enormously strong in his first year at Parramatta.
I can’t think of a rookie coach who’s had to deal with so much.
Rebuilding a roster, blooding young players through necessity, having your most crucial player injured for almost all of the season and key man Dylan Brown signing the richest deal in rugby league history at a rival club.
Yet, the team has continued to improve, the young players emerging rapidly, the style of football attractive and the side playing with enthusiasm.
That all stems from Ryles’ ability to handle the pressure placed upon his shoulders.
My father, Gary, was a highly successful coach in the bush, I once asked him why he didn’t pursue a career in NRL coaching, he replied “I chose an easier path, coal mining.”
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Originally published as Matty Johns: Des Hasler deserves better from Titans playing group who have no right to complain