Wendell Sailor reckons every NRL coach is a complete nutter

THEY all do it very differently, but you have to be a special kind of insane to want to coach in the most volatile and unpredictable football league we’ve got.

Manly depart for Brisbane. Is DCE there?

A LOT of people think every coach is reading off Wayne Bennett’s playbook.

Actually every coach has their own very different ideas on how to win an NRL grand final. The only similarity is that they’re all crazy.

Seriously, would you put your hand a job that is 24/7 non-stop. It’s exhausting. You have all of the responsibility all of the pressure, all of the criticism and almost none of the praise.

You’re the first person sacked if things go wrong and even when things are going well, fans want you to do better.

I’d never consider coaching in the NRL, but I have a lot of respect for the guys that do.

Bennett was my coach at the Broncos and – even though he’s widely regarded as the game’s best coach – he’s also a good example of the chaotic nature of the profession.

At the Dragons he had to wear criticism the team were “chokers” until they won a premiership. At the Knights he sacked himself because of the team’s “embarrassing” performances and back in Brisbane, where he has the team in the top two, people aren’t convinced he’s transformed them into premiership contenders. If this is the life of the best coach in the game, what are the others getting served up?

In the last couple of weeks Manly coach Geoff Toovey was officially told he’s not required next season. Newcastle’s Rick Stone got the guillotine for the second time too.

Manly has made the finals every season under Tooves, including the 2013 grand final.

It’s a results driven business, but sometimes not even winning is enough to save you. Coaches can’t win.

I will say that the best coaches of my career were not just brilliant tactically, but they knew how to get the best out of players and work out what makes certain players tick.

Wayne knew exactly how to get me angry. When I was angry I played well. I was hungry. It’s why Wayne didn’t mind having a go at me – sometimes in front of the entire team. Other guys wouldn’t be able to deal with that kind of public embarrassment, so he’d speak to them in private.

For me, though, a good old public whack from the coach always got me fired up.

His real weapon with me was the silent treatment. I hated it.

With the whole team watching him, Wayne would go around in his half time talk and he’d tell Gorden Tallis his line speed wasn’t good enough or Shane Webcke that his hit-ups were soft and then he’d get to me and just glare. For me, the next 40 minutes were about making sure I didn’t see that glare at full time and I’d run through walls to avoid it. Every player is different and so are the coaches.

Eddie Jones, my Wallabies coach, had his own ideas too. In 2002, my first European Tour, the second Test was against Ireland at Landsdowne Road, it was cold, wet and miserable.

Before the game Eddie came out and said the long sleeve jerseys would be available – and I always thought the long sleeves were a good look for me.

Not every player can pull them off, but I looked pretty damn good in one. The only problem with this game was that I got stranded on the wing and my stats read something like three runs, one handling error and one missed tackle.

Eddie didn’t give me the stare, but he came up to me after the game and said, ‘Mate, you are never going to wear one of those bloody long sleeve jerseys again’. I never did.

Like I said, every coach has their own ideas on how to win.