Flashback: A day in the Collingwood coaches box

2007: Collingwood coach Mick Malthouse and his coaching team digest on-field events at the MCG. Photo: JOHN DONEGAN

FIRST PUBLISHED IN “THE AGE” IN 2007

Communication was a central theme of Collingwood coach Mick Malthouse’s pre-game talk to his side yesterday, the Pies reminded in no uncertain terms of the importance of knowing and telling each other what was going on.

Little did he know how difficult he’d find doing the same thing from the coach’s box in yesterday’s incredible three-point “steal” against the Kangaroos at the MCG. The box, to which The Sunday Age was allowed access for the season-opener, is normally a well-oiled, high-tech environment. But things were going as awry up there as they were on the field for the Magpies during the early going.

The trouble started as soon as Malthouse put on his headset to speak to Brad Scott on the interchange bench and couldn’t hear anything. No amount of tinkering seemed to make any difference. “For Christ’s sake, it’s the first game … come on, boys — get this f—ing thing going,” came the coach’s frustrated plea.

Things would get worse still, when Malthouse went to the computer screen in front of him to look at early statistics — and saw nothing but black. “How come there’s no stats? Have we got any f—ing thing at all?” Technology manager Russell Butler was already in a lather, working frantically to get things going and the game had barely started. But in this pressure cooker of intensity, that’s nothing.

In the front row sit assistant coaches Gavin Brown, Adrian Fletcher, Blake Caracella and team manager Jarrad Carey, all in front of computers, the first three with specific eyes for their respective departments of defence, stoppages and offence, Carey yelling out opposition interchanges and when the Pies’ own players have crossed a threshold of physical exertion determined by fitness man David Buttifant down on the bench.

Malthouse sits in the second row, next to assistant Brad Gotch, who manipulates the names on the magnetic board at a rapid rate of knots as the changes keep coming.

Another assistant, Guy McKenna, is on Malthouse’s right side, alongside injured skipper Nathan Buckley, and behind them are IT men Butler and Marcus Probert and football manager Geoff Walsh.

It takes some time for the computer and headset glitches to be ironed out, but the information, suggestions and observations continue regardless, Malthouse at times liaising with half a dozen different voices at once. Taking it all in is no easy task, and the coach at one stage tells Fletcher to stop commentating the game.

There’s a constant stream of changes to be made, and messages to be delivered through the runners to players. “Tell Wakes (Shane Wakelin) to give up that handball crap.” There’s a rebuke for ruckman Guy Richards, and when recruit Paul Medhurst gives off an errant speculative foot pass instead of a more obvious handball option, another: “Tell Medhurst he’s allowed to handball in Melbourne … he might not in Perth … for Christ’s sake, get the ball to (Shane) O’Bree!”

Butler calls out how much time is left “Ten minutes … five minutes … two minutes”, before the siren brings another challenge for the coaching panel, namely clambering down several flights of stairs from the box to ground level, and back again, the second quarter having just started by the time Malthouse, Caracella and McKenna are back in their seats.

The ring-a-rosy of positional switches continues as Collingwood continues to struggle. There’s annoyance at failures to fulfil plans and to apply the sort of physical pressure which had been spoken about all week. “Three missed tackles!” Malthouse snaps. More frustration when Josh Fraser isn’t paid a mark he might have held. And when two Roo defenders are free at a kick-in. “Who are those two players who cut in there? Who are their f—ing opponents?”

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He wants Anthony Rocca taken from the ground but changes his mind when the big key forward goes close to a big goal. “Leave him there now — just tell him to put in.”

Frankly, the Magpies are lucky to be only 17 points down at half-time, but Malthouse’s half-time talk in the rooms is encouraging, the knowledge that the Roos have faded badly in recent pre-season hitouts some comfort that if the Pies can lift their intensity just a little, the result can still be achieved.

You wouldn’t have thought so by the time Corey Jones gives the Roos a 26-point lead with the only goal of the third quarter. By then, frustration has turned to anger. “Jesus Christ, believe in yourself,” says the coach, thumping the desk after another error. Deputy vice-captains Josh Fraser and Ben Johnson are both dragged within minutes of each other. Malthouse asks for them to be put on the line, and he delivers each a vintage bake.

With things looking grim near three-quarter-time, there’s a succinct summation of the state of play from the coach. “Every time I see them (the Roos), they’ve got their arse in the air, because their heads are over the football, and we haven’t,” he says.

There’s steam pouring from the veteran coach’s ears when he charges down the stairs to make the final address of the game. But it has the desired effect. Collingwood is jolted into action. The Magpies kick four of the first five goals to reduce the gap to just seven points, coming from nowhere. A boundary-line snap from the chastened but rejuvenated Johnson makes it two.

The fans outside the glass are going wild, but inside, it’s now things have to be at their most controlled. And they are. When Scott Burns kicks the goal to put Collingwood in front, the coaching crew is looking at the defensive formation at the other end of the ground. Then three bits of advice from different sources are delivered to Malthouse at once. “Paul Licuria is tired”, “Travis Cloke fatigued”, “Medhurst should come back on … Hang on, one at a time,” he says.

When Heath Shaw gives away the 50-metre penalty that should cost Collingwood the win, Shannon Grant lining up from the goal square, Malthouse is already looking at the next centre bounce. But Grant somehow misses. “You’re f—ing kidding,” gasps a disbelieving Buckley.

Now it’s a holding mission. “Get the runner out,” yells the coach. “Just wind the thing down, OK.” Rhyce Shaw has the ball. “Give it back to Jimmy (Clement). Tell him, Jim.” Medhurst’s misguided attempt at a torpedo punt which threatens to cough up possession is the final heart flutter.

“Stupid f—ing kick, that,” barks Malthouse, perhaps, in the circumstances, understatedly.

Finally, the siren sounds.

It brings far more a sense of relief than jubilation, other than a subtle fist pump from Walsh. “Good job, boys,” says Malthouse as he gets up. The coaching crew know they might have got out of jail.

But there’s satisfaction on a great comeback, at the 2½ hours or so spent in a boiling pot of pressure having produced something tangible in four match points.

And for Malthouse, after the malfunctions at the start of the day, the pleasure in being able to let his charges know what he thinks face to face, not through a headset that doesn’t bloody work.

*ROHAN CONNOLLY WENT INSIDE COLLINGWOOD PRIOR TO THE 2007 SEASON. HERE’S HOW THE WEEK UNFOLDED.