Heartache after the games stop
Jake Niall
On Thursday
September 2, 2004
In a failed relationship, the sacked party often hears that "it's not you, it's me". In the AFL, the discarded player is told, with similar sincerity, "we think you'll have more opportunities elsewhere".
Just as there is no "good" break-up for the jilted lover, players and coaches who get the sack are seldom happy with the manner of their dismissal.
Peter Rohde was angry that he was given undertakings - i.e. the full support of the president - before his execution. Peter Schwab admits to nursing bitterness. Schwab, too, had his position "guaranteed" by the Hawk hierarchy.
Favourite sons Kevin Bartlett and Wayne Schimmelbusch were famously bitter, not simply because they were sacked as coach after decades of service, but at the way their exits were handled, or mishandled. KB still hasn't forgiven or forgotten.
One of Schimma's gripes at the time is a common complaint of the sackee - that third parties, including his wife, knew about it before he did.
In football, September is the cruelest month and spring is the season of sackings. In the coming days, numerous players will be called in to see the coach or football manager and told that they're surplus to requirements. Some will be fortunate enough to be traded or exhumed in the pre-season draft; most will never play league footy again.
If there is no such thing as a nice way to be sacked, there are, as in life, better ways to be downsized.
As a rule, players and coaches cannot stomach hearing of their fate via the media or another third party. Hawthorn went to great lengths to ensure that Schwab was first to hear of his demise, but couldn't get the news to the players before it reached the media pack, which has a bloodhound's ruthless scent for a coach sacking.
These days, the media hounds have learned to listen to the president's dog whistles about the coach: first, the coach is "guaranteed". Then, the president says: "They have a contract." Finally, before the axe falls, the club announces "a review of all positions in the football department".
Greg Miller is an experienced hand in the difficult art of dismissal; in recent days, he has been wielding a samurai sword at Punt Road on behalf of Terry Wallace while trying to treat each victim with respect and dignity.
Miller, who had the distinction of having been the 1980s hangman for a 100-game Kangaroos player named Andrew Demetriou, believes there is a better way to go about the cull. The first rule is never sack a player over the phone.
"I never do them over the phone - always face to face," said Miller. "Close the door and look them in the eye and tell them the truth."While players prefer honesty to spin, they, like the rest of us, also appreciate some gratitude and/or words of encouragement about what they've given the club, provided it's genuine.
In general, the person who has signed the death warrant - usually the coach - should also be bearer of bad news; Miller, one assumes, landed the ugly job because Wallace was still, to a degree, coach-in-waiting and Miller would have shared responsibility for the decisions.
Even as they protest that "it was the way it was done" that embittered them, in truth, what really upsets the victim is the fact that they've been cut. This seems particularly true of coaches - precious few think the club has made the correct call.
For the aggrieved ex-coach, questioning the club's method of execution is like the argument about lethal injection versus the electric chair. There is no humane way to go and the injustice is not the means by which one is killed, but the fact that it was done.
http://realfooty.theage.com.au/realfooty/articles/2004/09/01/1093938995821.html===========
I thought this was a really interesting and good article.
I know players get cut every year and it would have to be a terrible thing to do but "kudos" to Greg Miller for the way he handles it (refer the bit in bold) - face to face - well done Greg
