Bucking the Trend

by Chris Rogers

  This type of coaching is becoming more common, but Shippy still sets the standard for preparation in my opinion. It’s not surprising considering he is brimming with intelligence, wants to stay in the background and is solely occupied with improving his charges. It’s a style I see in England’s Australian-born coach Trevor Bayliss now. From what I’ve heard he is exceptional as well.

  Shippy’s only weakness was the intensity he could bring to the group when things didn’t go well. He wasn’t averse to spraying a player if he felt that player had played irresponsibly. However I never experienced one of these. I think Shippy saw how hard I fought every time I went out and every time I did play a poor shot he would give me the benefit of the doubt, as he knew it was out of character. Generally the younger players copped his wrath, but that was a part of their development.

  In my last year playing for Western Australia, in the last match before the final, Matthew Wade was dismissed playing a reverse sweep which cost Victoria their last chance of winning the game and a home final. ‘Wadey’, I later heard, was given a severe tongue lashing from the coach and was promptly replaced by Adam Crosthwaite for the final. It was a massive lesson for Wadey and he came back better than ever. He has arguably been Victoria’s best player over the past five years and has even ascended to the captaincy.

  The old school, in-your-face approach worked in Victoria where it felt like cricket was being played in an Aussie Rules style of take no prisoners – I can tell you all the Bushrangers fancied themselves as an AFL prospect if only cricket hadn’t got in the way. It is still the most unique place to play cricket in Australia. The grade cricket is fierce and the sledging worse – I was sledged by a 17-year-old debutant in my first grade game for Essendon. Also it is the only place in the world I’ve heard where the players ask ‘How did you “go” out’ rather than ‘How did you “get” out.’

  But Shippy read the cards well and his style was fantastic and a reason why Victoria was always so competitive and successful. When he was moved on, coinciding with my last year playing for Victoria, privately I could see he was disappointed. Despite how good he was, I agreed it was time for the Bushrangers to have a new approach. The next coach could be rubbish, but the point was some of the players had only ever experienced one style of first-class coaching and needed a different approach to help in their adaptability if they wanted to progress higher.

  From my own experience it has been a blessing to experience so many styles and pick and choose what works. Hopefully I can use that in the future.

  That brings me to my Australian coach Darren Lehmann. I actually experienced three national coaches – Tim Nielsen, Mickey Arthur and Lehmann, but I only played one match under Tim and none under Mickey, who, as I recounted earlier, was fired before the 2013 Ashes got underway.

  Sometimes coaches can get too technical and KPIs and the like take over, to the point that the off-field work such as training and behaviour become even more important than the actual matches. With Boof, the desire to let the players express themselves has returned. It’s a fine line between being prepared and being over-informed.

  Another quality Boof possessed was common sense. The 2013 Ashes tour was a time when some relationships had become a little strained. I remember one day a senior player was disappointed with something fairly insignificant and started to say something to the coach that perhaps could’ve become an issue. But Darren just said in an even voice, ‘Hey, no problem, don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,’ which resolved an issue that could’ve easily grown legs.

  Boof also had complete conviction about the style he wanted his sides to play. It would be a high-intensity approach where attack and aggression were applauded. Sledging, if done in the right manner, was fine and bowling short at the tail became common practice and a statement of intent. I had no interest in playing this way, as my game was built on defence and making the target on my back as small as possible. This worked well when batting with Davey Warner, as often the opposition focused their attention on him and I slid under the radar in accumulating scores.

  But what that approach did achieve was to give the players clear direction. All players are gifted with different talents. My best talent was my mind and how I problem-solved, as I wasn’t that gifted with physical talents and could definitely not hit the ball as well as some. Other players though didn’t quite have the same mental skills – what Darren did was give that to them. By having a clear approach, the players had to think less and just follow a formula. It sometimes came unstuck, particularly abroad, but it was a wonderful tactic and the players responded to it.

  I’ll always remember how Darren would respond to bad days or Test matches. He would be completely upbeat and positive and remind the players it’s just a game and that they would be better next time. This style is very uncommon and is only shown by coaches who are completely confident in themselves. Those who are not will often rant and rave after poor performances and even call for naughty boy nets. Darren was the opposite and I can say it was a godsend. The players are under enough pressure and know when they have had a poor game. The odd spray might be applicable, but what the players need is support. It’s why coaches in football codes so often criticise the referee. They are trying to deflect blame from the players.

  Simplicity and direction is what makes Lehmann stand out, and while that seems like pretty simple, surprisingly it’s not. Darren has as good a grip on the intricacies of the game and the tactics required as I’ve ever witnessed. He also understands what the players are going through, having played at the highest level. While this is not essential, it has to help when an international coach understands how difficult that ‘bubble’ environment is.

  It’s been one of the real fortunes of my long and well-travelled career that I’ve experienced so many coaches. While some are better than others, every one of them has had a significant effect on my outlook and personality and if the day comes when I join them in the coaching trade, hopefully I can influence others in the right manner.

  CHAPTER 18

  LESSONS

  SOMETIMES YOU MISS the story. It could be argued Australia’s selectors missed the story with Chris. Washington political reporters missed the story with Watergate – two metro reporters broke that one. And this reporter missed Chris Rogers’ story first time around – he made plenty of runs against South Australia, where I was based, but I never asked to speak to him. When he made his Test debut at the WACA Ground in January 2008, I felt like many others that he was merely keeping the seat warm for a week. For five years it looked that way.

  By 2012 I had learnt, and watched Middlesex at Lord’s as Chris took the visitors for 173 at a helluva lick. He had clearly progressed as a batsman and a leader from the man I had seen at the Adelaide Oval; after play I spoke to him about his worries that he would soon be cut by Victoria. So I’ll quote him in his own book:

  ‘I know there’s a big push for the youth and the old guys are kind of being pushed through the back door. I still think I can give something to Victoria … But I must admit I do love it over here. I do love the county system and the emphasis it still has on the longer version – maybe my future’s over here. I understand there’s a lot of pressure at home, Victoria already have quite a few experienced guys, so you’ve got to have that balance and bring the young players through … I don’t hit the ball as far as most of the guys, but I think if you can use your brain and manipulate the ball then there’s still a role to be had … My goal was always to play Test cricket so that’s why I set myself to play the longer version.’

  That post-play interview at Lord’s evolved into a catch-up for dinner later in the week, and regular conversations since. I was thus able to watch Chris closely as he kept his Victoria contract, peeled off a trio of Shield hundreds in the next home season, and won his Test call-up.

  Equally, I discovered the multiple dimensions of the man. His analytical, even bookish approach to the game contrasted with a mischievous, fun-loving streak away fr
om the field. There were harder sides too, an occasionally caustic tongue and strong opinions. But most of all, there was an infectious sociability that was refreshing to me in addition to many others: Chris was invariably up for a coffee or a meal whenever we found ourselves in the same town, and equally happy to introduce me to his friends and family.

  Most of the time, Chris and I kept at arm’s length during international series, apart from the odd conversation, but the 2015 Ashes was an exception, when I was not enjoying the experience, dealing with weight issues and the aftermath of a violent mugging in the preceding tour of the West Indies. Chris was the one person who spoke to me, clear-eyed and forcefully, about needing to look after myself, even though he was wrapped up in the final chapter of his own international career, and in the harshest of cricket spotlights.

  A similar tale can be told by Paul Sealey, a friend Chris met through the Prahran cricket club after his move from Perth to Melbourne in 2008. At the time Chris was playing for Essendon, but Sealey saw a side of the man that transcended links to the cricket team of the moment. He also saw a very funny byproduct of publicity.

  ‘He was playing for Essendon, but as it transpired he basically socialised and hung out with us [at Prahran] most of the time. At the Victoria awards night after that first year he won the Bill Lawry Medal and at the presentation all the district clubs were there, including Essendon. But when he got up to speak, he actually thanked the Prahran boys because we gave him a bit of a social outlet in Melbourne! He went on to play for Prahran, and that was where our connection sprang from.

  ‘[One night] we were near Chapel Street when we were about to go out to dinner, and he was taking out some money from a Commonwealth Bank ATM. They are sponsors of the Australian cricket team, so there was a photo of him on the ATM itself when he was drawing cash out. He was so excited about it and so keen to tell us all that he walked away and left his money there. The cash was never seen again, but at least we all knew about the photo!’

  BEING FORTUNATE ENOUGH to have spent nearly 20 years as a professional cricketer, a number of these in recent times as captain, taught me a lot about fitting into a team and how to get the best out of myself. With that I’ve come to have certain beliefs about fundamental principles it takes to achieve success. Others may have different views, but generally I believe they will be similar ideals delivered through different words.

  BALANCE

  Perhaps the greatest lesson I’ve learned is that cricket can consume you. A game that should be simple is often so complicated it becomes ridiculously difficult. Every now and again you see batsmen mouth to themselves ‘watch the ball’ as a bowler is running in. Why would a player say this when surely it should be a given? Often it’s because there are so many things going through the brain that this most important requirement takes a back seat.

  Such thoughts aren’t confined to the cricket field. Sleepless nights are common for cricketers. If you speak to any batsman, ask them if they have had the nightmare they can’t get ready quick enough to go out to bat and are timed out. I’ll be surprised if they answer ‘no’.

  Maybe the worst part about living as a cricketer is that your performance on the ground invariably dictates how happy you are off it. I’ll never forget Michael Hill of Victoria having a three-week purple patch and his enormous relief and happiness after he’d scored a century and we’d won a Sheffield Shield match against Queensland. ‘Hilly’ had been fighting for his chance for a number of years and his celebrations were impressive, but as harsh as it seemed that night I felt the need to tell him that he only did his job and to keep his feet on the ground.

  Unfortunately for him he fell away in the last two Shield matches of that year for four single-figure scores and the word was he was back at rock bottom mentally. Similarly, after scoring two consecutive centuries in Tests in the Ashes in Melbourne and Sydney I thought I was invincible. Three innings later I was sitting in my hotel room in Port Elizabeth contemplating retirement.

  The only way to get things in perspective is to find balance in your life. Whether that be study, work or travel, something is required. I look at Ryan Carters, formerly of Victoria and now New South Wales and Sydney Thunder, with a lot of admiration. He has started his own charity called Batting for Change, a tremendous initiative that has given him direction and responsibility away from the game.

  Darren Wates studied and practised law throughout his brief professional career. While those demands may be a little excessive, cricket was never going to be the be all and end all for him, which meant that every opportunity that came his way was greeted with enthusiasm and joy – not always the case for others.

  I was fortunate enough to complete a journalism degree while trying to break in to the WA side, for which I’m grateful. Since securing my first county contract and playing back-to-back seasons in Australia and England, I’ve found it very difficult to do any such further development and have had to find balance elsewhere.

  After last year’s Ashes I travelled with Peter Siddle and his girlfriend Anna Weatherlake to Spain for a wedding. It’s no surprise Sidds is one of the happiest and friendliest teammates I’ve had. His love of life is almost second to none and the amount of hobbies and passions he has is impressive. Whether it be his veganism, commercial ventures, dogs, hats, watches, fishing, the North Melbourne football club, American sport and a lot more … seems to be you name it, he knows about it.

  Once cricket takes over, you enter dangerous territory. Yes, focus is key, but the ability to switch on and off is imperative. A lot of the battle is won off the ground. If you can walk out on to the ground confident and relaxed, the chances of success are far higher.

  IF YOU ARE NOT GIVING, YOU ARE TAKING

  Captaining sides has taught me a lot about leadership. In cricket the easiest place to lead from is the front. To stand in front of a group and demand excellence is so much easier when you are doing it yourself. No doubt this is fundamental in most industries, but cricket is full of statistics and individual battles and everyone knows the score.

  But still, this only works if you are a positive influence on the group and teammates want to perform for you. Too often I have seen the culture of cricket clubs when only two or three players are creating drama. The issues are usually around money, not enough opportunity or excuses for why they aren’t performing.

  At Derbyshire, a couple of players blamed the coach and the culture of the club as reasons for why they weren’t performing. As I said earlier, why then were some succeeding? Winning breeds a winning culture and it takes individuals to put aside issues and not complain.

  In a team environment, the players who do not help provide a happy vibe and try to undermine management are not needed – even if they are the best player in the team or the next superstar. A key element to this is enjoying the success of others in the team, rather than ruminating on what it means for you. If you cannot bring yourself to do that, then you should perhaps find another occupation – more on that later.

  ONE STEP BACK – TWO STEPS FORWARD

  Having a father who played first-class cricket is a fortune most other cricketers didn’t have and having high-quality coaching day to day was no doubt the making of me. For all his qualities, Dad still had weaknesses. His style of coaching these days would be frowned upon, yet I’m still to be convinced about the new wave of coaching.

  Dad would overload me with information. One moment he would be telling me to get my front elbow higher, the next to get a bigger stride in as I play a drive, the next to get my eyes further across into line with the ball. Often this overload would leave me bewildered, trying to process so many things at once. But this style helped me become an effective problem-solver.

  In the end, something Dad would say would click, the focus would sharpen on that, and I would work it out for myself. Towards the middle of my career I pulled away from Dad to get a wider grasp, but often would return to him when in need. He would say a few things and the cycle would start again –
one thing would resonate with me and everything else would fall into place.

  These days it’s felt the best way to coach is to ask players how they feel, to speak to them about game awareness and try to coach them in reading the game. That’s all fine, but often I see these kids having no technique to actually play certain shots. This can be anyone from a 17-year-old to someone nearing the end of their career.

  I’ve always been a tinkerer. There were times as a young player playing club cricket in my early 20s when in the first session of a match the bat would feel like a railway sleeper, so uncomfortable it felt. As bowlers were running in I would be fiddling with my grip or changing my stance from ball to ball. Often I would battle to lunch then come out to play afterwards, and all of a sudden the bat would feel like it was an extension of my body. Often it was a case of trying something that would feel alien but then become second nature – one step back, then two steps forward.

  In my experience the best players are never satisfied and are always searching for something better. I’ve spoken to some players who say they do all their technical work in the pre-season and then don’t change at all during the season. I find this both fascinating and naive. What happens if you have a form slump? How will you ever get to where you want to be if you don’t use all your time to improve?

  While I acknowledge this can create over-complication, if you keep striving slowly it will become clearer. I’ve tried most technical styles and discarded most of them, but I know now what works best for me – yet it’s still a work in progress. Justin Langer was fantastic in wanting to soak up every bit of help he could get and sometimes in our one-on-one sessions where we threw balls to each other I would give him more advice than he would me – such was his open-mindedness.