Anthony Foley: Keep it simple, stupid: The best of coaching tips from Axel

“Tell them nothing” – the shout from Anthony Foley at the weekly Munster press conference whenever he passed by a player being interviewed. The ‘jibe’ was always always followed by childish chuckle and the squinting of his devilment-filled eyes.

That was the ironic thing with Anthony Foley. He loved chatting about rugby. But when the microphones went on, he morphed into what many people might have seen on TV, or heard in interviews. He became the coach who didn’t like to give a quote or any opposition ammunition for the sake of it.

Foley often wondered why someone would use 100 words, when they could just use 10. His honesty in the appraisal of Munster or the opposition team for that matter, was not filled with cliches or stereotypical soundbites. It was always, refreshingly, the answer to the question asked. Honesty. For me, the word I kept thinking about this week was legacy.

As a young schoolboy, hurling was my number one sport. I attended St Clement’s College, which, at the time, was a long way behind the powerhouses of Limerick schools rugby. I remember, even back then, in the 90s, talk of Shannon RFC and St Munchin’s College number 8, Anthony Foley. It rolled off the tongue, ‘Foley, the number 8 for Munchin’s, his dad beat the All Blacks.’ The legend was beginning.

As Shannon steamrolled their way to title after title, Foley led the way. The era of professionalism in Munster brought about higher attendances and more TV coverage, but yet the players remained the same. They belonged to their clubs first and province second.

As the 90s turned to a new century Saturday afternoons became synonymous with Munster matches at a packed Thomond Park. The bandwagon was cranking into gear and everyone wanted to be on it. With each passing defeat of a visiting team, Limerick people began to walk taller. The heartbreak of losing finals did not deter anyone, on or off the pitch. Miracle matches were seen, by Foley more than anyone, as a stepping stone to more.

Finally, in 2006, the holy grail. Fittingly held aloft by the man who epitomised Munster. The man, who if he had been asked to line out for Shannon RFC that very same morning in Cardiff, would have had a difficult choice on his hands. Would it have been a boat, train or plane back to Coonagh?

In 2006, this fan became a journalist. I learned fast, that the key to getting a good story is to have more than one question lined up.

Fast forward, through several years and multiple press conferences, to a situation almost six years ago, when I was attempting to be accredited for an IRFU Coaching Course. One of the necessary protocols is for the coach seeking accreditation, to be assessed by a coach above him on the ladder.

As the rain came in sideways in Annacotty, the home of UL Bohemian RFC, this eager under 20’s coach noticed Foley was leaning over the barrier. When I approached and asked him if he needed anything or was he lost? I was greeted with another chuckle and the following piece of advice. “KISS” – he said.

“Sorry?” I queried.

“Keep it simple, stupid” replied Munster’s then assistant coach. “This is a very simple game. Make sure never to complicate it. That is when players and coaches get confused.” I use it to this very day with Young Munster RFC.

That is it. That is Axel Foley’s legacy. He kept it simple.

Foley, for me, was the ultimate tracksuit manager. The man who would rather twiddle the lanyard of his whistle around his wrist on a rain sodden field, than present a powerpoint presentation on ‘attacking principles’ The man just passed, asked to be remembered as a stubborn player who wouldn’t give in. That will be done. For this fan, turned journalist, turned coach, Foley will be remembered as someone who showed that there is no substitute for honesty of effort or doing the basics right. He did this both on the field and off it. He kept it simple, something we can all aspire to do.