Quins-watch … and perhaps new beginnings
And so the rumours were true – Paul Gustard, one of Eddie Jones’ deputies, is to be Quins new head coach. Aged 42, he was a solid Premiership flanker who never played for England but ended his career at Saracens and switched to coaching there, since when he’s been on an upward trajectory.
Why has he quit his England role just sixteen months before the 2019 Rugby World Cup at which – provided Eddie Jones gets both his act together and his squad back on track after a catastrophic 2018 Six Nations – England should at least make the knockout stages and possibly a shot at a semi-final?
Probably two reasons: firstly, even if fantasy took over and England actually won the William Webb Ellis trophy, he’d be only one of a number of home grown candidates to succeed Jones and if (as is likely as not) the RFU loses its bottle and instead opts for a Southern Hemisphere or left-field solution, he’d be toast if he didn’t secure the main prize.
Secondly, the natural route to longevity and eventual superstar status as a rugby coach is to secure your reputation by having a spell as a head coach of a Premiership club.
And, when you think about it, there ain’t many better options for anyone who lives in or near the capital than the Harlequins, who – despite their recent slide – retain a worldwide reputation as one of the great historic club brands, traditionally play an entertaining ‘throw the ball about’ style of rugby their fans love, and (as the last Premiership team actually based in the metropolis) has a vast constituency of potential future new supporters sloshing around just waiting to be attracted to any team that can become a ‘top four’ fixture.
Looked at it from those viewpoints, it was almost a no-brainer.
Especially since currently Quins most resemble a hapless second-rate heavyweight boxer.
One who’s visited the canvas twice in a title bout and is lolling around on the ropes shipping serious amounts of leather, just as the bell goes for the end of the fourth round with the referee hovering anxiously seeking signs of continued resistance … in the absence of which he should perhaps intervene to declare a TKO and save the battered pug from himself.
So it’s like this.
Gustard enters the fray with Quins at a low ebb after two dreadful seasons of ‘nice but cuddly and average’ John Kingston at the helm for the second stint of his two decades on the coaching staff at the club.
The only way is up.
If Gustard can just persuade those with the silk purse (if there is one) to blow the cobwebs away, open it and buy some serious heavy-duty grunt and grit; clear out some of the albeit illustrious but now over-thirty senior players with worrying amounts of miles on the clock; get the talented youngsters playing properly; and, of course, instill his new squad with a renewed sense of purpose, team spirit and elan, there’s no reason why – within two seasons – Quins might not be routinely securing a ‘top six’ position in the Premiership and then pushing on for one two places or more higher.
I’m not saying anyone could do it – notwithstanding that, to be frank, Gustard won’t have to make too many changes, nor make too many jumps in coaching excellence himself, to improve upon the Kingston regime’s results.
Put it this way – I reckon that, perhaps with an experienced steady, technically up-to-date, coaching deputy to assist me, with a fair wind I could achieve it myself.
Getting a team fired up, I mean really fired up (as opposed to just acting fired up and saying all the right-sounding things you’d expect them to say), is not rocket science.
It’s called leadership and man-management.
I once joined a company in an industry where a well-known head of department – I had previously only known him by reputation – inspired an extraordinary devotion amongst even high-powered (and some might say ordinarily cynical) subordinates.
I once asked a female colleague departing to go to a general ‘open’ departmental meeting what the meeting was about. Her reply was “I haven’t a clue – but when Jeremy announces we’re all going down Tottenham Court Road, you get your backside in gear and high-tail it down there straight away, simply because it’s Jeremy …” which I felt spoke volumes for his charisma and standing.
What I’m saying is that Gustard’s decision to take over the coaching reins at Quins is both rational and astute.
He can cut his teeth as a head coach with us and initially doesn’t have to do too much – well, other perhaps than be different from John Kingston – to get Quins’ trajectory heading back in the right direction.
Arguably, any serious advance, e.g. a top four finish within two seasons or annexing some (any) sort of silverware, would be a bonus.
To finish today, a farewell salute to one of my favourite Quins players – Charlie Matthews.
He first appeared on my radar nine or ten years ago as a choirboy-faced beanpole of a lock in the Quins academy. He was huge, his light-out jumping was excellent and, for a tight-five forward, he also possessed unusually good handling skills and speed around the park.
I soon picked him as one of my ‘ones for the future’ and at first he seemed destined to go on to great things, unusually playing for two years in the England Under-20 side at the ages of eighteen and nineteen. He went to Loughborough University, where he captained the university team, and thereafter became a regular member of the Quins first team squad without ever quite managing to push on to full international honours, though he was included in the England squad for a non-cap Barbarians game in 2014.
A couple of months ago the word was that Charlie was not going to be offered a new Quins contract when his current one expired at the end of the season. I was disappointed to learn he was on his way out, albeit he hadn’t achieved all I had once confidently predicted he might during his time with us.
Then last week came the news that he’d been signed by Wasps. Given where Quins are languishing, in football terms that’s rather like – just after their relegation was confirmed – a West Brom midfielder being signed by Manchester City, United, Spurs or Liverpool.
Charlie is still a choirboy-faced – albeit 6 feet 8, 19 stone – lock and he turns 27 in July. It’s a sad thing to see him go but – you never know – maybe the novelties and challenge of a new club, plus a different coaching set-up and atmosphere, might still see him step up to international level.
I do hope so.
