Is this the toughest job in rugby?

HE is considered by many to be the greatest Lion of them all. With an incredible five tours as a player and one as manager, 17 test appearances, including two winning test series against New Zealand and South Africa as captain, Willie John McBride’s pedigree as a legend of the game was cemented long before his retirement.

The only blip on his CV is as a manager. McBride was manager of the 1983 Lions tour to New Zealand, when the hosts won the test series 4-0.

The following season, as coach to an Irish team that had won a Five Nations championship, a Triple Crown, and a share of a championship in the previous two seasons, he presided over a whitewash that yielded only the wooden spoon.

Though he took charge of an ageing squad that had reached its end, the Ulsterman bore the brunt of the criticism and lost out the following year in a vote that installed the late Mick Doyle as national coach. The charismatic Kerryman, Doyle, produced another Triple Crown and championship success in his first season, which was awkward for McBride, who was still a national selector.

McBride was a great rugby man with a wealth of experience. Yet the vagaries of sport decreed that he took over an Irish side in a transitional period. Much of what happened was outside of his control but it hurt him.

As Martin Johnson enters his first Six Nations at the helm of the English management team, I cannot help but think of the fate that befell McBride, who, if the greatest Lions team of all time was selected, would man the second row with England’s World Cup-winning captain. It was inevitable Johnson’s leadership qualities and sharp, rugby brain would force the RFU to come knocking at his door. With no managerial experience, only time will tell if Johnson answered the call too soon.

After a difficult autumn campaign of defeats to Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, by a record margin, the vultures have began to circle.

Johnson’s credentials to become a successful manager are without question. However, like many things in life, success is all about timing. Not unlike his famous counterpart from a previous Lions era, I fear he may have got the timing wrong.

I was afforded the opportunity of working closely with Johnson on the Lions tour to Australia in 2001, which he captained, the only man in Lions history to do so twice.

I found him a very interesting and likeable character. Forget those massive, frowning eyebrows that define his caricature: Johnson is personable, witty, honest and resilient.

I first met him formally in a Birmingham hotel, at my request. As captain of the test-winning series in South Africa on the previous tour, it was obvious, after my appointment as manager, that I needed to meet him and council his opinion on structuring and running the forthcoming expedition to Australia.

En route from an England training camp in London, Johnson was running ten minutes late because of traffic and was unable to make an international call on his mobile phone.

He contacted his agent to ring me and apologise for the short delay. There were no airs and graces about this guy.

After a beneficial and enjoyable three-hour discussion over dinner, we parted. Suffice to say, I was impressed.

Johnson is an uncomplicated, practical man. These are traits that he will need to survive in management. Because of England’s less-than-impressive results under Clive Woodward, Andy Robinson and Brian Ashton, since winning the World Cup in 2003 (despite reaching the final in 2007 against all the odds), the English public and media have grown impatient.

Johnson’s honeymoon period, if his interaction with former England second row and rugby writer with the Daily Telegraph, Paul Ackford, is anything to go by, lasted a matter of weeks.

After one of the autumn internationals, Johnson began a tense press conference with a defence of his under-fire captain, Steve Borthwick, before Ackford let rip.

According to the England manager, Borthwick — the maligned captain — was “fantastic,” “brilliant,” “great,” “tremendous.”

Johnson’s point was that Borthwick did his job “under incredibly difficult circumstances.”

Ackford went straight for the jugular, asking: “What about your (Johnson’s) contribution?”

Johnson: “I’ve created a good environment...that’s my job... working as a team.”

Ackford: “Where is the improvement”?

Johnson: “I can’t judge from last year, because I wasn’t there...we haven’t scored the points ... you’re not there seeing what happens...you only see results.”

Ackford: “I’ve heard the same old stuff from Andy Robinson and Brian Ashton...this is the third echo...soft soap...it just isn’t good enough.”

Johnson: “We are sweating blood; we’re living it every day.”

Ackford: “It’s all excuses. Nobody has said ‘I’m sorry’.”

Johnson: “Do I have to apologise to you as a former international?”

Ackford: “No, apologise to the public, who had to pay to watch that rubbish.”

Johnson: “What good is that going to do? I’ve said we’re not good enough. Did you, as a player, apologise when you got beaten by Australia [in the World Cup final] in 1991?”

Ackford: “Yes.”

Johnson: “No you didn’t...did you say that when you blew the World Cup?”

Ackford: “I’ll get out the cuttings.”

Johnson: “If you think its rubbish, fine, but that’s the way we are as a team. What other players can we pick? Have we got better players? What difference is it going to make if I say sorry?”

To those on the outside, this exchange was taken as evidence that Johnson was under pressure. They don’t really know him. He can be belligerent at times, as millions of television viewers witnessed on the famous occasion in Lansdowne Road, in 2003, when he refused to budge to accommodate the Irish team before being presented to President Mary McAleese.

Johnson believed it would be a sign of weakness, and, in the eye of the storm, was prepared to suffer the consequences.

When England won the game and a Grand Slam, after years of near misses, for him the end justified the means. Likewise in his exchange with Ackford; he is not a man to be intimidated and would stand by his captain.

Under pressure, this guy is coolness personified. In that explosive game against New South Wales, in 2001, remembered for the wrong reasons for that vicious attack on Ronan O’Gara by Duncan McRea, the Lions lost Will Greenwood, Lawrence Dallaglio, and Neil Back to injuries that would rule them out of the all-important first test the following week.

Johnson asked me, in the medical room after the game, about their state of fitness. When I told him they would all be ruled out of contention, he grimaced momentarily, shrugged his big shoulders and all he said was “ok, let’s get on with it.”

It struck me, at that moment, that if I told him he would have to man the second row on his own, due to an injury crisis, he would do just that.

The fact that he is so recently retired and would have played with or against many of his current squad will not faze him, either. At the end of that 2001 tour, Johnson went on holidays to America, on the day after the final test, with Austin Healy and their respective wives.

Yet, as part of the disciplinary panel set up under the terms of the tour contract, Johnson had no difficulty, some weeks later, in carrying out his duty as part of the panel that fined Healy for his newspaper outburst, on the morning of the third test, against the Australian team and against Justin Harrison in particular.

Johnson now faces the biggest challenge of his sporting career.

As a captain, Johnson was a man of few words, more of a ‘do as I do — not do as I say’ character. That is more difficult in a managerial role. He is also very dependent on his coaching staff, many of whom, like him, have little or no management experience in the international game.

Brian Smith is in his first season, while forwards coach, John Wells, is still finding his feet. Contrast that with the international expertise around Declan Kidney (who, himself, has a vast well of experience) in Gert Smal, Les Kiss, and Alan Gaffney.

Johnson is also hamstrung by the RFU’s accord with the premiership clubs, whereby he had to nominate a squad of players last summer and is only allowed to make five changes to that selection, injury apart, between the autumn internationals and the Six Nations.

If any man is capable of dealing with the inevitable flack that will come his way, if and when England lose internationals, it is Johnson.

My gut feeling is that he will have to bolster his coaching team with more international experience. Given time and support, he will deliver.

The problem with modern professional sport is that success is something that those who control the purse strings are not prepared to wait for.