When Martin Johnson takes his bike out for a ride in the South Leicestershire countryside that surrounds his home he often stops at the site of the Battle of Naseby, just over the country border in Northamptonshire, dismounts and surveys the scene.
The beleaguered England rugby manager is a keen and knowledgeable historian, which is why he can be witnessed standing at the top of the hill by the plaque marking the spot imagining the rout of the Royalists dealt by Oliver Cromwell’s Parliamentarians, a defeat that proved to be the beginning of the end for King Charles and the first English civil war.
It is a quiet, peaceful scene now, of course, a lifetime away from the carnage and chaos of battle or, indeed, test match rugby. Johnson and his England team have been accused of being too Roundhead for most observer’s liking, and not enough Cavalier.
“Maybe,” Johnson acknowledged, with a wry smile. “But Cromwell won the war.”
Indeed he did, a fact not lost on the man who lifted the world cup as England captain seven years’ ago, and who will lead England into next year’s world cup after receiving the most fulsome of endorsements from the RFU despite a sorry run of results, but Johnson will also be aware of the anguish and desolation Cromwell felt, not only for the loss of so many men, but also for the act of executing his king.
The perception of Martin Johnson remains intact. He is a global sporting icon, a colossus, a man who would neither bow nor be beaten when he captained his country to glory. He possessed an aura that very few in any sport have emulated.
The reality is somewhat different. He remains convinced that his England will come through, but the challenge he has decided to undertake – the biggest challenge of his career – is proving much harder and all-consuming than anyone can imagine.
“There have been some very black days and there have been more than a few moments when I’ve doubted the wisdom of taking on this job,” he admitted, candidly.
“The two defeats against Ireland and France in the Six Nations were heart-breaking. Heart-breaking! Even the draw (against Scotland) felt like a defeat. I’m finding it much tougher to deal with as a manager than when I played. When I lost to Wales in the Grand Slam decider in 1999 at Wembley I drove home that Sunday night and vowed I’d never think about that game again as a player. I didn’t. I had a big game the following week and I got on with it.
“After losing to France the other week I spent the Monday at home. It was 48 hours after the game and yet I’d never known myself to be so flat, so utterly deflated. That defeat was gut-wrenching. Normally you get what you deserve in rugby. We missed a tackle against the Irish which lost us the game. But I didn’t feel we deserved to lose in Paris. It took a lot out of me.”
There’s more. It seems the pressure of the job, and weight on his broad shoulders, never leaves him. “Your head spins all the time. Why did it happen? What went wrong? I never had any trouble sleeping as a player after a game, even when we lost. As a manager, though, it lives with you 24 hours a day. It’s in your head constantly. When I lay my head down on my pillow at night I’m thinking about it all. I still sleep, but the job is the last thing in my mind before I lose consciousness.”
There will be those who see Johnson as sporting deity who will be concerned by this? Some even tell him straight. “Friends and former teammates say I don’t need it. People even come up to me in the street and say, why bother, and that I’m putting my reputation at stake.
“I’m not bothered about reputations and never have been. People have always had all kinds of perceptions about me. Some think I was a big Neanderthal who went around clubbing people. Some think I got everything right. I won trophies with Leicester, I led England to world cup victory, I retired with the image of lifting the world cup as a lasting one. Well, I also got banned as a player, and I led England to a world cup quarter-final defeat in 1999. I have always been very uncomfortable with perceptions, just as I am with the word “legend” which often accompanies my name. If I was concerned about my reputation I would never have taken on the job in the first place. It’s not about ego. I care about the job, and I care about England winning. A lot of people do in this country.”
This, presumably, includes his former, world cup-winning England teammates, some of whom have recently criticised their captain turned manager and his team as the defeats have mounted up. Lawrence Dallaglio, Matt Dawson, Will Greenwood, Josh Lewsey and others have all had their say at some stage since the turn of the year and although Johnson has kept his own counsel it has not been lost on him.
“It’s very easy to talk about “when we were playing” and it’s very easy to see yourself as faultless,” he argued, after an interminable pause while he collated his thoughts. “I’ll admit that the criticism from the former players grates, but it also makes me smile. You see, you remember the things they did, the mistakes they made, the difficulties they found themselves in at times and what they were like in difficult situations. They forget that I was there.”
It’s not just Johnson who his former troops have turned on, either. Together with the captain the star, Jonny Wilkinson, also carries the knife wounds from hitherto previous colleagues. “I find the glee that some people are writing Jonny off to be distasteful,” Johnson continued, his famous beetle-brow furrowing at the thought. “I gather Matthew (Dawson) said “Jonny played better when I played inside him. He needs players like me around him.”” He laughed out loud, and somewhat dismissively. “That’s what he said!”
Not all of it is wrong, though. Johnson concedes he was raw when he started out as England manager with no previous experience in such a role, and that he made mistakes. “Of course I was inexperienced. It’s been a steep learning curve. I’m a much better manager now than I was 18 months ago. I look back now and realise there were a number of things I could have handled better and yes, I ask myself numerously if I’m good enough to manage England.”
One error, which he freely owns up to, was the misguided belief that the team of world-class players he led to World Cup glory was how all England teams are. “Seven years ago England were a settled and confident group of players, world-class in ability, with a hardened edge playing close to their optimum. We’d been in a good place for two to three years.
“I guess when I came in as manager I took a few things for granted. I assumed a number of things of the players in terms of knowledge, their understanding of international rugby and what it takes that weren’t there with all of them. I assumed similar standards and found things out. I know the squad far better now.”
This appears as almost like a criticism of his players although Johnson is quick to deflect it back on to himself, as indeed he has continually throughout his regime. “I accentuate the positives publicly,” he explained. “For this I am called deluded. I won’t castigate them in front of the media but when the dressing room door’s closed the guys get to know and understand what the expectations are. It’s what Alex Ferguson does, isn’t he?” He smiled. “Only difference is he wins most of his games.
“Besides, we’re all in it together. Look at the Six Nations and you’ll see that we didn’t finish off anywhere near enough of the chances we created. Now I realise that we didn’t spent enough time on the training field in this area. One of the things we’ll do from now on is to put the guys under real pressure in training in three on two situations and get them to start finishing off the moves. We’ll do it over and over again until the players start taking the opportunities far more regularly than they are right now.”
This is said in the knowledge that his job appears to be safe right up to and including next year’s world cup, despite a record of a meagre eight wins in his first 19 tests in charge, no better than either of his predecessors, Brian Ashton or the current Scotland coach, Andy Robinson, both unceremoniously sacked by the RFU. It is a point Johnson has to accept, and does.
“Look, my record’s clearly not good enough and England should be more successful than that. International sport is brutal. If players don’t play well they get dropped. I understand this. If coaches or the manager is perceived to be not doing a good job then someone else will come and do it. Am I lucky to be still in the job? It’s difficult to answer that one. I report to Rob Andrew and he understands where the team were in terms of the lack of a core or of leadership, and where it is now. He understands that in the 18 months I’ve been in charge we’ve had ELV’s, changing interpretations of the breakdown, mauling going then coming back into the game. He knows that injuries forced us to make 11 changes for the autumn internationals last year. And he knows the squad and leadership development that has been made, and the players coming back now. Of course I wanted our progress to be quicker than it’s been and we’re all extremely frustrated by it.”
Could a man like Johnson turn his back on the job if the going got too tough, or the results continued to not come his way? “If I felt it would be the best thing for England then I’d walk, for sure,” he answered, immediately. “If it’s the right call to make a change, whether it be a coach or the manager, then I’d make it.”
What of Andrew, the Director of Elite Rugby, whose job appears to be under threat from the emergence of Sir Clive Woodward, the current BOA Director of Elite Performance who was Johnson’s England manager when the world cup was won?
Johnson chooses his words carefully, here, but the message still seems to emerge. “There’s always speculation when results don’t come, and that’s why there’s talk now of Clive taking over Rob’s job,” he explained. “Clive’s got an important job to do at the BOA. He was heavily criticised after the Lions were heavily beaten on the 2005 tour to New Zealand. No-one was calling for him to come back to England then. Is it too simplistic to bring Clive Woodward back and everything will be OK? Yes, of course it is. What will improve the team is continuity and trust in the players and management.”
All roads, then, lead to New Zealand in the autumn of next year. Johnson will be judged on the World Cup and he knows it. With the likes of injured players such as Andrew Sheridan, Tom Rees and Phil Vickery set to return, the emergence of Ben Foden, Dan Cole, Chris Ashton, Ben Youngs and Courtney Lawes, the growth of the likes of Nick Easter, James Haskell and Dylan Hartley, and the experienced presence of Wilkinson, Moody, Worsley, Cueto and Borthwick, he remains convinced England will be there or thereabouts. “Of course England should be competitive in the World Cup,” he insisted. “I believe we’d be competitive if the World Cup was staged this September, let alone next year.
“It will be a battle in the pool. We drew with Scotland while Argentina finished third at the last World Cup. That tournament showed how the bounce of the ball stopped Tonga beating South Africa, and a last-ditch tackle stopped Fiji beating the Boks as well. The games will be tight but it would be an enormous failure if we failed to get out of our pool and into the knockout stages.”
And then? “Then, in one-off games anything can happen but if you want to be seen as one of the big boys, which we do, then you’ve got to make the semi-finals, minimum.”
Right now this seems a long way off, and with two tests in Australia in June, followed by four tests in the autumn at Twickenham with three against the Tri Nations the affected sleep, the feeling of desolation days later, and the constant self-examination seems likely to continue unabated, whether Martin Johnson is lying in his bed or surveying the scene of one of the bloodiest, most decisive battles in English history.”
