Sabbatical brings out best in Jack

THE CHANGE of psyche that Jack O’Connor experienced during his sabbatical from the Kerry hot seat provides a salutary lesson for anyone thinking of trying their hand at the management game.

Jack was weary and exhausted when he returned the keys to the Kingdom in the autumn of 2006.

Ultra-conscientious and acutely sensitive, the job had put him through the mental and emotional wringer.

The public debate in Kerry surrounding his selection of Declan O’Sullivan, the butting of horns with the big personalities in his own camp, and the media’s dissection of all these events took its toll on Jack. He felt like a ship caught in a maelstrom.

He was actually relieved to quit the job. He wanted out. He needed to shower his head and walk the mountains of south Kerry without worrying about football.

Bear in mind, this was a man who won two All-Ireland titles in three years. An Ulster manager could have dined out on that achievement for the rest of his days.

But Kerry is different. And Jack was different. Back then, Jack took it all to heart. He nursed grievances, both real and imagined. He raged at the newspapers and would ring journalists to vent his fury at articles they had written.

This whirlpool thinking and unrelenting quest for control is more tiring than the climb to any summit around Dromid.

It was only when Jack walked away that he was able to make sense of it all. St Paul had his moment of revelation on the road to Damascus. I don’t know when Jack was blinded by the light – but he has certainly undergone a visible transformation.

Watching from the sidelines in 2007 and 2008 would have allowed him to put things in context.

He would have realised how much he missed the clamour, excitement, and drama of the biggest competition in the country.

After being part of it all, he would have empathised with other managers.

Watching their successes and failures would have provided him with the perspective that he lacked when he was stuck in the middle of it.

Most importantly of all, he would have learned to appreciate the rows over selections, tactics, and newspaper articles for what they are – harmless puffs of smoke from the Championship pyre.

Since Jack has come back, he’s been fireproof.

Although his spat with Tyrone’ s Ryan McMenamin in Omagh suggested that little had changed, there were still signs that he was going to adopt a new approach during his second coming.

In an interview earlier this year, Jack revealed that he was no longer “in the faces of the players” all the time.

He has quit trying to be everyone’s personal psychologist. He said that his assistant Eamon Fitzmaurice was the ‘hands-on’ man. Jack has moved back, the hardest step for any control freak.

I witnessed this seismic change in Jack’s attitude in Tullamore, the venue for Kerry’s thoroughly unconvincing victory over Antrim in the qualifiers.

The build-up to the game would have put 10 years on the Jack we used to know.

When word got out that he had dropped Tomás O Sé and Colm Cooper, the media went into overdrive.

Conclusions were swiftly drawn. Kerry were in freefall. ‘The Gooch’ had lost it – and Jack had lost the changing room. He should never have gone back. And there was the book, the book, the book.

In fairness, Kerry’s lacklustre display against Antrim did little to refute some of those assertions.

Yet when Jack emerged from the changing rooms to meet the waiting press, he couldn’t have been any more relaxed.

He stood with his back to a high stone wall and as the evening sun hit his face, it didn’t betray a line of worry. More significantly, there were no signs of fret or fury.

It was the ideal moment for Jack to launch a counter-offensive, but there was no outburst.

He actually jousted with local Kerry reporters. In response to the ocean of newspaper ink that was generated about O Sé and Cooper, he said: “We don’t pay as much heed to you fellas as you think.”

This was the reply that confirmed that Jack has finally discovered the ‘Zen of Management’ as practised by men like Mickey Harte, Sean Boylan and Pete McGrath.

The idea that managing a county team is a hugely taxing role is a complete fiction. Far from it.

The club manager who coaches the team, pumps the balls, puts out the cones, washes the jerseys, and monitors the physio bills is much busier.

County managers have a platoon of coaches, assistants, video analysts, kit men, gofers and officials to help them.

It’s the media scrutiny that causes rookie managers the biggest shock. Some are totally unprepared for it.

At first, they enjoy giving interviews to all and sundry, particularly after those few victories that often come under any new regime.

But the ordeal of being interrogated immediately after a solid trouncing is much less enjoyable. Some hide. Others huff. Then there are the leaked stories about injuries, internal rows, dissension within the camp and player indiscipline.

If that doesn’t do the trick, then a readers’ forum like our beloved ‘Off the Fence’ can often supply the push that puts managers over the edge.

Truth be told, I’ve limited sympathy for them. Managing a county team is a privilege.

It provides individuals with a chance to select, coach and hone the 30 men who will wear the county jersey.

And there are perks. Expenses will more than cover any costs. The media profile can also help to open doors and create opportunities in other professional fields.

Achieve some success and there is money to be made from columns, commentary, advertisements, personal appearances and motivational talks. The very successful can enjoy trips to foreign lands on All Star trips and International Rules tours.

The media that creates the profile that provides these cheques and airline tickets also provides the negative stories, the hostile forums, and the critical opinion columns.

That’s just the way it is. And if you can’t hack it, stay away.

Jack O’Connor couldn’t stay away, so he has learned how to hack it. He’s come to understand the circus of the Championship.

He knows that while every manager is a ringmaster, it’s not a circus without the acrobats, the trapeze artists – and the clowns.

Fortunately, it’s not just Jack who has benefited since he returned to the Big Top.

Kerry, the game, and the All-Ireland Championship is definitely all the richer for his calm and serene presence.

* This column first appeared in yesterday’s Irish News.