Bucking the Trend

by Chris Rogers

  He much preferred dealing with self-sufficient players who thought for themselves and found a squad who, while talented, kept making the same mistakes. Because of this he gave me a certain amount of freedom to work things out and encouraged me to be myself.

  His son Michael had tried his hand at Aussie Rules Football and had been contracted at the Fremantle Dockers then Collingwood before turning his hand to cricket. He became a very good left-arm swing bowler who, despite being exceptionally fit, found his body and in particular his back, unable to cope with the demands of bowling. But for a while Murray, Michael and I were very close and performing well.

  It helped my relationship with Wayne and he became a supporter of mine, often pushing and challenging me to set my goals higher. The Australian side was almost unbeatable at this stage and I felt there was no room for me so did not dare to dream but instead settled into a routine of enjoying life and scoring runs.

  To have a coach who has such belief in you, even when you don’t, acts as such a spur and my performances only got better. Wayne and Justin often didn’t see eye to eye, as Wayne liked a more laid back approach without the intense pressure that can come from trying too hard; I enjoyed his approach and vice-versa. He also made me feel completely at ease in the change room and would tell me that what I was bringing to the side in terms of my personality was excellent. It was refreshing after feeling outside of the group initially.

  I found Wayne to be a fantastic man manager but he couldn’t get the most out of the group, which seemed to lack direction and needed a tighter fist to guide them, as well as constant attention. It was a shame he was moved on for a second time, as he had the best intentions and genuinely wanted everyone to do well, especially me. Unfortunately the playing group made mistake after mistake and Wayne fell victim. His mode of coaching though has always stuck with me and I took a lot from how he operated.

  Mike ‘Waggy’ Veletta’s selection as coach in between Wayne’s two stints initially filled me with dread. In a grade game at the end of the previous season, with rumours of him taking over rife, he sledged me mercilessly and smirked at me, daring me to throw down the stumps, which I did – only for him to get an overthrow.

  He proceeded to tell me he wouldn’t be contracting me shortly after his appointment and I was thrown into the wilderness. With plans to return to university and give up on my cricketing dreams, I was completely surprised when the WACA did a 180-degree turn and offered me the last contract.

  In a strange way, it was thanks to Waggy. Brendon Julian was frustrated with Waggy’s iron fist and opted for retirement, where his personality ensured success. With almost no one else to contract and forced to sign someone, I got lucky. What followed was two years of game development for which I will be forever grateful. Being an opener, Waggy saw me as a pet project and his technical coaching I found to be brilliant.

  He helped my game rise considerably and it was in his first year as coach I became a permanent fixture of the four-day side. It was only at this stage I felt my spot wasn’t in jeopardy, which made playing even more enjoyable. Waggy was exceptionally supportive to me, but was meanwhile losing the dressing room much as he’d lost BJ.

  He had played with a high level of intensity and I daresay he had a fear of failure, which seemed to emanate from him and started to affect the players, who weren’t used to such a stressful environment. Quite simply Waggy was desperate to succeed, but almost too desperate. The players started to get jittery in his presence, and consequently mistakes followed.

  My last season for the Warriors came in 2007. The big signing in the off-season was coach Tom Moody, who had been a legend as a player for the state and had built an impressive CV coaching Worcestershire and more notably Sri Lanka.

  I got off to a shaky start with Tom. Days after returning home a team-building exercise was scheduled in the hills past Gosnells, outside of Perth. I managed to get lost driving to the event and turned up late – not a good first impression. I was left a little frustrated by the day that took place. While Tom had the best intentions, it turned into a bit of a joke.

  For each team exercise we had to do things like erect an imaginary doorway out of equipment provided and find objects in a treasure hunt, to which points were attached. In the end we accrued a combined points tally of around 1.3 million. The organiser said it was a record and that he had no doubt we would have a very successful season. We didn’t. It felt like a waste of time and corny.

  Tom wasn’t to know that beforehand though and he quickly made his presence felt – hard not to when you’re over two metres tall with a personality to match. I’d started to struggle with bowlers attacking me from around the wicket and Tom helped me tirelessly, throwing balls from that angle at a time before the whirler (or dog-stick) was introduced.

  My issues started to appear when it became apparent Tom was, it seemed, backing Shaun Marsh and Luke Pomersbach unconditionally. Both had been reprimanded the previous year under Wayne Clark’s leadership, and were given a clean slate under Tom. When Luke was picked out of the crowd to represent Australia in a T20 game at the WACA when Brad Hodge picked up a late injury, he was in Perth only because a misdemeanour had kept him from travelling interstate with the WA team. The decision to allow Luke to play was green-lit by the WACA and in particular Tom, but it rankled with senior players. The following week Tom met with nine of the squad’s senior players in the middle of the WACA Ground and stated his case. He said he felt as a new coach everyone was to start afresh and that it was too good an opportunity to deny a young player – both very good points. However all nine players expressed their disapproval and felt it was time Luke was dealt a harsh lesson, as he seemed to be being rewarded for mistakes and a bad precedent was being set.

  I think how I would I have handled that situation as a new coach, and empathise with Tom, as I think I might have done the same. But the players were becoming increasingly worried for Luke and disappointed he was letting the team down. On a personal note I started to feel a shift in the team dynamic and felt I was being slightly sidelined. My place in the one-day side was lost and young players who hadn’t really earned their spot were leapfrogging me. These kids were very talented but didn’t quite have the mental capabilities as yet.

  Over coffee I expressed my concerns to Tom and said picking people on talent alone was dangerous in my opinion. I felt my South Perth teammate Darren Wates (a lawyer as well) should be in the side, as while he might not be the best player he would make good decisions under pressure. I recalled the time he and Kade Harvey (a chemist) won us a one-day title with the bat from a seemingly lost position against Queensland at the Gabba.

  The meeting didn’t really work out as I hoped and I left it feeling deflated and seeing the writing on the wall. Tom had every right to try to develop the vast talent Western Australia provided on the cricket field, but I think a better balance could have been struck and people like Darren would have provided leadership and guidance to help that talent.

  Tom only had the one contract with the Warriors and I feel a few of the players he backed let him down, which was disappointing as he gave them every opportunity to succeed. To be fair to Tom, I’m not sure anyone would have found the task of leading that side easy. While talented, the players kept making the same mistakes and when I spoke to the Vic boys about the Warriors, they just felt a few of the players would crack under any pressure.

  Years later I worked with Tom in the commentary box and I think we both regret what happened and get on well now. Sometimes you just don’t see eye-to-eye about philosophy and approach and it was a good lesson to learn. What became clear was that as a player, if you try to fight management, 99 times out of 100 you’ll end up losing out and that I did.

  I agreed in March to sign for Victoria and would relocate there at the end of September after another season in the UK. This time with Derbyshire after the England Cricket Board had changed the rules on overseas signings, making it possible for clubs to only sign one for red-bal
l cricket. Northampton had opted for Johan van der Wath, as he was a fantastic cricketer and exceptional with the ball.

  John Morris was my new coach and it quickly became apparent we would get on well. ‘Animal’ as he was known was the other person in the plane with David Gower when they flew a Tiger Moth over a game they were playing in between England and Queensland. John had already scored a hundred in the match so when Gower suggested it he was very much up for it. I noticed quickly John had a huge love for life and I loved being in his company, although I gave him a bit of a fright early.

  I met a friend for a quiet beer on almost my first Sunday there. Knowing I wasn’t going to be drinking much, I opted to drive. Parking on a fairly busy road in the middle of town I left it on a slight slope. After returning from the pub I walked to where the car was meant to be only to find empty space. Panicking, I came to the conclusion it had been stolen.

  Not knowing what to do, I called John as I didn’t know anyone in the Derbyshire offices particularly well. He told me to go home and he’d try to sort it as he knew a local copper. Next morning I woke to the ringing of my phone. It was John telling me I must have left the handbrake off and it rolled and had to be towed to the impound. I felt a prize idiot, but John could only see the funny side of it.

  John had signed the ex-England international Rikki Clarke as captain but it became clear early that the two didn’t particularly get on and there were some fundamental differences in their approach. Rikki’s performances started to drop away and at one stage he dropped himself and I stood in as captain. The following game we were playing on our outground Chesterfield and it looked like a very green wicket, so Rikki was reselected as his bowling would be required.

  The twelfth man wasn’t named until just before the warmup began and when Rikki realised who he was to replace he became very agitated and felt the other player didn’t deserve to be dropped. What followed was an argument between captain and coach that lasted about 15 minutes before John approached me with a wry smile to tell me I was to captain and could I do the toss. It was how my captaincy started, as Rikki and John fell out and Rikki wasn’t to play for Derbyshire again. He relocated to Warwickshire, where he has been excellent.

  As coach of a small club in county cricket, the coach has a lot of responsibility. Not only does he have to coach, but he is often director of cricket, scout, psychologist and father figure. I loved John’s approach, which was typically Australian – hard but fair. I’ll never forget a phone call I received relatively early on from him out of the blue solely to tell me I was doing a great job and to keep going. Naturally I’d been praised before, but this was the first time a coach had called just for the purpose of saying well done. It’s always stuck with me.

  Equally he would ring players to tell them they weren’t pulling their weight and improvement was needed. I respected John for this, but it turned out not everyone did. The problem with small counties is that they have lower budgets and therefore can’t afford the top-class players. As the saying goes, if you pay peanuts you get monkeys and this is what Derbyshire often had.

  Some players would perform badly and we’d lose and John would be on their cases. Instead of taking responsibility, the same players would then look for excuses, culture being the main one. I heard from a few that the reason they weren’t scoring more runs or taking wickets was the bad culture. What horse shit, I thought. Myself, Wayne Madsen and Chesney Hughes could perform. Why wasn’t the bad culture stopping that?

  Culture is one of those elusive terms in cricket. How do you get a winning culture? By winning. It’s the chicken and egg question … which comes first?

  Basically players couldn’t handle the pressure and blamed everything else than themselves. I learnt a lot in my time under John. It was about the time I was starting to properly mature and John showed me it was fine to enjoy life and play good cricket. I had three very good years at Derby and a lot was down to his guidance. After three years though the bright lights of London beckoned. I felt the time was right to leave and I told John I wanted to play for Middlesex, a team that was underperforming but had a lot of potential and a home ground at Lord’s.

  The second year of my stint with Derby, we almost got promoted to the top division but with Middlesex nine wickets down, a bad umpiring call cost us a win and we had to settle for a draw. Tim Murtagh was the batsman and he confessed to me the following year he should have been given out. That cost us a chance of promotion, which was a shame as we fell away the next year and I felt I had taken the team as far as it could go under my leadership. I was holding the team together with my runs and felt the players had become a little too reliant on me and needed to step up with more responsibility.

  John understood my feelings and credit to him he didn’t stand in my way. He was disappointed as I was ‘his man’ so to speak, but he wanted me to be happy. I saw how he dealt with people, particularly Graham Wagg who had a tough time at one stage and how John made the club stand by ‘Waggy’. He was a man of his word and that was unbreakable.

  For my four years at Middlesex I came under the guidance of Richard Scott and Angus Fraser. Angus was a legend for Middlesex and England and as director of cricket he was charged with getting Middlesex back to where it belonged – successful in the first division. He made a couple of signings to offset the departure of Owais Shah and brought in myself and Corey Collymore, two older guys to help with leadership.

  Initially I found Angus a little hard to read. He is your typical English, dour, dull man with hunched shoulders. But I quickly began to realise this was just a front and he is in fact a witty, intelligent and warm character. As director of cricket he didn’t get involved with the day-to-day running of the team, but instead oversaw the whole operation. That didn’t stop him bowling to us in the nets off about 18 yards. Even over 50 he was still a handful. Unfortunately that came to an end when he decided to run the London marathon and his back said, ‘Enough!’

  Angus sorted out my accommodation every year and always looked after me. He didn’t delegate any responsibility when I asked for things and I came to think of him as one of the best people I’ve met in cricket. He also liked my approach and wanted the players to be closer as a team.

  Richard Scott acted as first team coach and as captain I had to work hard side by side with him. He was fantastic. My problem as captain is I can be too demonstrative and the players notice it. While it shows that I’m deeply invested in the game it also can have the effect of showing teammates when I’m disappointed with them.

  As years have gone by I have improved in this but I’ll never completely shake it. What Scotty brought was complete calmness and consistency. Even when things weren’t going our way, he remained just the same, and I admired him for it. At times there were murmurings that players wanted more from him, but he was always first there throwing balls to guys at 9 am on the morning of matches, so I couldn’t understand those sentiments.

  It was fantastic to see someone be so calm even when his career could be on the line. I could only admire him for it. Now with Middlesex one of the best teams in the country, I have no doubt it has a lot to do with Scotty’s unflinching patience and calmness.

  In County cricket I’ve come to understand that consistency from a coach is almost the most important quality. Technical coaching is important no doubt, but with such a high volume of games and results that are always going to fluctuate, it is important to keep an even keel. The coaches who go up and down and enforce naughty boy nets quickly lose the players. No one is perfect, but players need to have their feet kept on the ground when they are doing well and made to feel it’s ok even when they lose. Seems pretty simple, but it’s hard to do when the pressure comes on.

  It’s been fantastic consequently to work with Matt Maynard at Somerset. At a club with supporters who are as passionate as I’ve seen and quite outspoken when performances are bad, it’s been incredible to see him deal with criticism. I can get quite prickly when I feel some views are ignorant
and negative, but he takes it all in his stride and that allows the players to feel safe.

  It seems as if Matt will be my last coach and if that’s the case then I’m happy. A fantastic man, he’s been dealt his fair share of bad fortune in his life but is always happy and positive. As a coach I admire him for many qualities and am trying to learn as much from him as I can before I hope to get into coaching.

  I’ve taken a lot from every coach I’ve worked with but have saved the best two for last. I touched on Greg Shipperd earlier – he and Darren Lehmann are clearly the finest coaches I’ve worked with. Up until playing for Victoria I mainly encountered ‘feel’ coaches – those who liked to manage players and felt the best way of getting the best out of the team was verbal communication. That’s fine, but it was my experiences with Shipperd that showed the value of preparation and analysis.

  It was around mid to late 2000s that the ‘cricstat’ technology was coming into vogue. This enabled widespread information and footage of all teams and cricketers, letting players watch all their innings as well as study the opposition. ‘Shippy’ took this to another level. The day before a game after training or the morning of the game we would convene in the ‘war room’ at the MCG if it was a home game, or the change room when away, and the white board would be literally covered in notes.

  Shippy’s design was three columns. He would have our general goals throughout the match – or ‘KPIs’ as they get referenced to these days. Then the opposition list with notes on strengths and weaknesses, and then finally our list with notable recent history, such as if a couple of players had combined for 100-run partnerships a number of times lately.

  With this would be a folder of 22 sheets for each player to take with him, showing all the statistics for the opposition and us with dismissal types as well as wagon wheels etc. Not only would Shippy have this prepared pre-game but what also became very apparent was the preparation he must have done every night of the game in the lead-up to team talks in the morning. These meetings can be monotonous and thus counter-productive, but often Shippy would change the style to get his point across – whether it be an assistant coach to talk or each player to speak about something he had noticed, until Shippy got to the point he wanted to discuss.