Dr Ed Coughlan: Davy Fitzgerald and knowing when the less said is better

SILENT SIDELINE: Wexford manager Davy Fitzgerald's latest altercation has seen him receive a two-match sideline ban, for all the good it will do him, as he has sworn to never change his ways. And why should he? Well, from a performance perspective, there may be a few good reasons for him to consider doing so. Picture: Piaras Ó Mídheach/Sportsfile

The hurling championship would not be the same without a story involving Davy Fitzgerald. It could be something about his capacity to mix things up tactically, to try something others have never thought to do, as he did in his days with Waterford between 2008-2011.

Or a post-match interview which brings everyone into his world with his energy, enthusiasm and love for the game, and soundbites for the nation to discuss in the days that follow, as he did following his All-Ireland win with Clare in 2013.

Or, as this last week has shown, his sideline antics and his tendency to let his emotions get the better of him and shift people’s attention from on the field to off.

His latest altercation has seen him receive a two-match sideline ban, for all the good it will do him, as he has sworn to never change his ways. And why should he? Well, from a performance perspective, there may be a few good reasons for him to consider doing so.

He is regarded by his peers as one of the most ferocious competitors the game has ever seen. To many he is a national treasure because of the joy he has brought to his own county as a player and manager and other counties where he is quickly adopted as one of their own.

His infectious passion to want himself and those he works with to be all they can be captures the imagination from the first team talk with the players. He quickly embodies the spirit of the crest he is representing and, in some cases even more exuberantly than those who have been born and bred there. Wexford folk have begged him to stay on every year since he started there in 2016.

To others he is a means of self-discovery and resilience given how he has spoken openly about his own demons and challenges on national television, becoming a source of connection and inspiration to many who have no interest in hurling, but are strengthened by his honesty and willingness to share.

Finally, he has brought evening entertainment to a new level with his hugely successful TV show, Ireland’s Fittest Family. It is one of the very few shows that the whole family sits down to watch together. The rollercoaster of emotions experienced following families that you quickly associate with going through hell and back is TV gold.

The passion oozes from him, from the bulging veins in the forehead to the shaking fists and living every moment running alongside the action. This is what television entertainment is all about. Over the top emotions, drama, and people well and truly getting carried away with the occasion. One would suspect the team captains themselves watch the episodes through their fingers as decorum is oftentimes left in the make-up truck.

But that’s what TV entertainment is all about, its sole purpose is to entertain, the result is secondary, because for most of us we have no connection with the competing families and if our favourite progresses, we’re delighted, and if they don’t, so be it, we’ve forgotten not only their names an hour later, but why it seemed to matter so much.

But that’s not what sport is all about. At the elite level, it is all about the result. As spectators we have a lasting connection with the team we follow. We are enthralled by them, seeing them as an extension of our existence and a topic for conversation, even debate, for the days and weeks before and after a match.

The intensity of the connection is heightened because the GAA persists with having the knockout cup format as the premier competition of their games, limiting the fairer, more balanced league competition as merely a warm-up.

As a result, most fans know they have only a few matches to enjoy their heroes in action before the Division 1 status quo returns and the same six teams battle it out for the final four places and beyond.

So, where someone, as experienced as Davy Fitzgerald, has built a reputation as being a very capable coach and manager, he may also fall foul to some unchecked behaviours that do not align with the modern game. He has been happy to move with the times with his tactics and move on from old grudges with his backroom team, none more notable than his appointment of old Cork rival, Donal Óg Cusack to his Clare management team in 2015. But to state so categorically that he is not for changing when it comes to his sideline demeanour is something he may regret with time.

It is likely that everyone who has ever coached can speak of times of utter frustration and blind fury when the players they work with fail to execute on what was expected.

However, what happens on the field under the pressure of a competitive match directly reflects where the players are at.

The comfort of the training environment where in-house games between players who are very familiar with each other can be very misleading when compared to the reality of what happens against meaningful opposition.

The frustration we experience as coaches is just a dawning realisation of the work that lies ahead. But in that moment it is imperative that we keep our emotions in check to be able to see what is happening and more importantly, possibly identify why it is happening.

Furthermore, the more animated we become the more of a distraction we are to the players on the field. They are out there trying to figure it out and having to decipher apoplectic dialogue amidst the turmoil of the game is next to impossible. Not to mention the fact that the evidence suggests that very little information, if any, is absorbed during game time.

Such behaviour sends a poor message of support, or lack thereof. The players seeing and hearing someone barking orders relentlessly suggests they are doing nothing right.

The subtext suggests that if they could only do what they’re being told to do all would be fine, but of course being told what to do is very different to knowing why you’re doing it.

Nowadays, players have an expectation of being trusted with the game plan. They are inundated with references to leadership and accountability from their respective management teams.

There are stories from every code of players taking video analysis sessions and contributing to the tactical strategy of the team.

If that is the case, then they need time and space to be able to transfer those powers of leadership into the heat of battle.

Allow them to experience that responsibility, not alone, but with the support from those who have put them there.

Is it possible that the fire and brimstone antics of managers has a short shelf life? The passion that gets them in the door, may also ultimately be what shows them the door.

As maybe it becomes too much if you’re hearing the white noise every time you take to the field.

Davy Fitzgerald, for all his success, might one day reflect on how there may have been far more good days than bad had he been able to trust his charges a little more than his behaviour suggested he did.