Mark Robinson: How Damien Hardwick evolved to become master coach

Damien Hardwick was feisty and sometimes personal in his defence of those that played for him, he was players’ man and Richmond people were his people, writes Mark Robinson.

Damien Hardwick and Brendon Gale. Picture: Quinn Rooney/Getty Images

On the well-trodden path from the MCG to Punt Rd, through the gardens and with the lights fading behind him in the darkness, Damien Hardwick knew it was all over.

Nobody at the footy club knew then of the looming seismic announcement.

In the end, he didn’t even want a final game so he could be celebrated.

Because Hardwick, a rotten, rugged half-back flanker as a player, has never sought the adulation that comes, firstly as being a premiership player and even more so as a premiership coach.

He told Tigers boss Brendon Gale of his decision on Sunday night at his home over a couple of beers. Gale listened to the reasons why and didn’t try to change Hardwick’s mind.

As Hardwick quipped, he had cooked those sausages a 1000 times and couldn’t cook them 1001.

Hardwick looked at ease at his press conference. No one knew what to expect after being told the night before he was worn down by the game. Would he be a wreck, or be sitting in his chair rocking backwards and forwards?

He was nothing like that. He smiled and smirked and made jokes and even told Gale he had his last take on the Tigers credit card, filling the family motor cars with petrol.

There were plenty of laughs from Damien Hardwick at his press conference. Picture: Michael Klein

It was pre-COVID Hardwick, the Hardwick of old, the happy Hardwick.

What emerged on Tuesday was Hardwick’s appreciation that football clubs aren’t about premierships but about people.

That was born out of his revered HHH philosophy — Hardship, Heroes and Highlights — which was adopted through the 2017 season. It underpinned the premiership success. It was chaos football played by vulnerable people.

He was a demanding coach from the start, but clearly he evolved. He was less demanding around analytics and more embracing of imperfections and the relationships between coach and player and player and player.

In a nutshell, Hardwick became a listener and not always the lecturer.

On Tuesday, he spoke about the love for his players, the fans and the footy club. He said “love’’ more times in 25 minutes than he’s probably ever said it in his life.

When he spoke about his players, he was on the verge of breaking down. An hour earlier, he shed tears like a five-year-old boy having dropped his ice scream, when he spoke to the players and staff in the Graeme Richmond Room at Punt Rd.

He wasn’t alone in the crying game, either.

The full-stop in any journey can be overwhelming. In football, it can be nasty and ruthless or, if you’re lucky like Hardwick, it can be joyous and honourable.

“I want to leave the game loving the game, not resenting the game,’’ he said. “I want to leave this place with the best feelings … it’s a celebration of what we’ve been able to achieve and the people I’ve met.

“I’ve seen first-hand what it can do when relationships sour with coaching careers ending, and I didn’t want that to be the case.’’

Tears were shed by Damien Hardwick to the playing group. Picture: Michael Klein

He was the reluctant coach before landing the job at Richmond.

Coaching, say his teammates, wasn’t a consideration.

As a player at Essendon, he hated training. Often, he’d be last on track and the first to leave and he would whine through pre-training stretches. “Why are we doing this shit for?’’ he’d say.

His idea of warm-up was putting the seatwarmers on in the car on the way to the footy club.

On the field, he was the ultimate teammate. He had white-line fever. The easygoing and calm person became a raging bull and they loved him for it, first at Essendon and then at Port Adelaide.

Kevin Sheedy: “I didn’t think he was going to be the great coach he was. He didn’t look like he was that hungry as a player to want to do it, but he certainly got on the bike and got rolling.

“He changed his life around to be a coach. He was never like that. So, to achieve what he has is quite remarkable. He’s won five premierships as a player and coach.

“I have to say he didn’t even want to come to Essendon because he thought it was too far from his home, Upwey in the mountains.’’

Port Adelaide coach Mark Williams first coached Hardwick in the 1995-96 seasons, when he was Essendon reserves coach. At the end of 2001, having realised he needed more toughness at Port, he recruited Hardwick, Byron Pickett and Josh Carr in three consecutive years.

In the grand final of 2004 against Brisbane, a battle-weary Hardwick started on the wing and he’d charge into the centre square and cause havoc.

Williams: “The attributes people are drawn to are his total commitment towards the ball, his toughness and his leadership. He was combative.

“One of the things that stands out in the ’04 grand final, was he got in Aker’s face when Aker was shooting for goal, Aker pushed him in the face and he went down like a sack of spuds and got a reverse free kick. Damien knew the moment. He knew how to read the play, he was very intelligent as far as his football nous.’’

Williams worked with him at Richmond from 2012-2016. “He was kind of hard-headed, like this is the way it should be done and I thought he really developed and opened his mind to different things.

“He’s a smart person. He put good people around him and Tim Livingstone shouldn’t be underrated. He and Blair Hartley were really significant as friends, allies and confidantes.’’

Williams agreed that Hardwick didn’t enjoy the limelight.

“He’s a country boy from the hills of the Dandenongs and that’s how he dresses as well, he’ll love that. He always got a bit of tease about his fashion sense from the boys at Port.’’

Hardwick was a players’ man and Richmond people were his people.

He’d often have spats with the media because he wanted to protect his player. He’d get feisty and sometimes personal and that was the white-line fever in him. The players knew he had their backs. “I love you to death,’’ he said of the players.

He departs as Richmond’s longest-serving coach and with three flags, but he will be remembered for more than that. He leaves as a legend and a saviour and the once-tormented Richmond folk will be eternally grateful.

Will he coach again?

When asked yesterday, he could’ve easily said no. He didn’t.

A flag hero at Essendon, Port Adelaide and Richmond, just maybe the coaching light might flicker again. In fact, the AFL might be the first to call him.

Originally published as Mark Robinson: How Damien Hardwick evolved to become master coach