It’s nice to hear Justin Marshall say the quiet part out loud

It’s nice to hear Justin Marshall say the quiet part out loud.

I get why we’re all intrigued by Marshall’s comments around how and when Scott Robertson was told he’d no longer be All Blacks coach. Marshall, a former Crusaders and All Blacks teammate of Robertson’s and longtime friend, provided a version of events via his The Good, The Bad & The Rugby podcast, which suggests Robertson was blindsided by his sacking.

We can’t know for sure if Robertson really did hear that he was out as All Blacks coach at the same time as the rest of us. That would seem rather disrespectful, if true.

We also have to remember that Marshall is a mate of Robertson’s and accept that his sympathies primarily lie there. Relationships can add mustard to stories, occasionally.

I’m not too bothered by all that and admire the fact that Robertson hasn’t gone whinging and whining since his dismissal. Maybe he’s saving that for a book. After all, a man has to make a buck.

The fact is, Robertson’s All Blacks teams didn’t play well enough or win often enough, and when that happens, that makes you vulnerable. The specifics of how he was relieved of his duties don’t really matter now. It’s done.

No, the comment Marshall made that actually interests me is this: “Where does the buck stop? You know, why has this all been blamed on Scott Robertson? You know, there are other coaches, and equally there are players who’ve let the side down at times.”

How long until the pitchforks come out for Crusaders coach Rob Penney? Penney doesn’t play Super Rugby Pacific, but he’ll soon be to blame for the team’s underwhelming start to the season.

I deluded myself for a long time. I decided Steve Hansen lost his touch, I argued long and loud that Ian Foster wasn’t up to the job as All Blacks coach, I scoffed at the credentials of some assistant coaches.

And, to a point, those observations were valid. Just as the inevitable criticisms of Penney will have a basis of truth, too.

But, as Marshall noted, “there are players who’ve let the side down at times.”

It’s just that, on the whole, we’re disinclined, maybe even frightened, to say so. Why? Are we in awe of them and fans with keyboards, as Eddie Jones once observed?

I’ve said many, many times that television sanitises rugby. Most of us aren’t on the sidelines at games and training sessions. We don’t appreciate the size of players and the ferocity with which they collide into one another.

Even from the grandstands, there’s an element of the game looking slightly pedestrian and the contact gentle.

The truth is, these men are so brave, so robust, and so athletic it’s not funny. As a result, I’d far rather hear from them before and after matches than any coach, because they are the doers of the deeds that actually matter.

I genuinely admire anyone prepared to get into that arena and put themselves on such public display.

Only we rarely hold them accountable. We don’t blame them, we don’t demand more from them. No, we assume their coach is a halfwit and wonder aloud about how long he can continue in the job.

Well, how’s that working out for us?

Should Steve Borthwick be shown the door because England has lost a couple of Six Nations games? Will we lampoon Les Kiss when his Wallabies are no better than Joe Schmidt’s?

We invest far too much in the cult of the coach as the messiah and devote far too little time to setting fair expectations of players. Sure, we lavish them with praise when they do their job, only to assume it’s the coach who got it wrong when they don’t.

Marshall’s right to make the point he did. The All Blacks won’t improve while we insist on holding just one man responsible for any disappointing results.