LONG READ Mick Cleary: 'McCall prefers the shadows but the more he shuns the spotlight, the more it seeks him out.'

Mark McCall approaches retirement in the same manner that John Arlott did when laying down his BBC microphone for the last time. The Lord’s crowd had gathered for the Centenary Test between England and Australia in 1980, with thousands more listening throughout the land, all anticipating a grandstand farewell after 34 years of service. This is what they got.

“Nine runs off the over, 28 Boycott, 15 Gower, 69 for two – and after Trevor Bailey it will be Christopher Martin-Jenkins.”

Succinct, understated, let the facts speak for themselves. The man and his metier in perfect alignment. No need for fuss or favour. Off into the sunset with nary a backward glance. Job done.

McCall also prefers the shadows. The more he shuns the spotlight, however, the more it seeks him out. The cameras constantly picked him out up in the coaching box last Saturday at the StoneX stadium as Saracens rounded off their home account in this season’s PREM, the last occasion on which their supporters would be able to see him in action, not that there is ever too much action in itself, McCall invariably on his feet, prowling, arms folded and a creased brow. There was a clamour for him to share the moment, which he did, briefly, to the crowd as well as to the TNT cameras. Others would have basked in the limelight. Instead, as it has always been, he performed his broadcast duties before saying  that he was looking forward to ‘getting home for a nice glass of wine.’

There is still a bit more to come. And if McCall does somehow get his Saracens side to rewind  the years and complete a remarkable late-season revival by toppling Exeter at Sandy Park on Saturday, then it would rank among the finest of his achievements. The odds are stacked against Sarries but that rearguard sort of action, pulling together, drawing strength in the presence of teammates, rising to the challenge, is precisely what has typified McCall sides down the years. A few weeks ago Saracens weren’t featuring in the play-off conversation. It had been a middling season, ho-hum performances, ho-hum results, as it was indeed against Harlequins a few days ago. A five-match winning streak, though, has changed the tenor of the debate.

Getting to the play-offs is still a long shot after Exeter’s 26-35 win over Leicester Tigers at Mattioli Woods Welford Rd last Sunday. Now it becomes a shoot-out (of sorts). If Saracens are to complete the miracle act and rise from the seeming dead they have to win by three league points at Sandy Park, denying bonus points and all those other fine-line permutations.

It’s a regular-season finale that PREM big-wigs would not have dared script. There is plenty on the line.

Fittingly, it is just the sort of scenario McCall might choose to bow out on – a game of rugby to be won, take whatever happens on the chin and, if things don’t work out, catch the team bus back towards another of those nice glasses of wine in a home environment, far from the madding crowd, another Saturday shift at the coal-face completed.

It’s a regular-season finale (with another blockbuster at the REC) that PREM big-wigs would not have dared script. There is plenty on the line. The Sandy Park showdown also pits McCall up against the only other director of rugby, Exeter’s Rob Baxter, that might have any claim to rivalling him as the Premiership’s finest. Baxter, another down-to-earth figure who refuses to varnish the truth, has had a splendid record with Exeter but loses out to McCall on major trophy haul, not that either man would be as crude as to reduce what they do to mere figures, notches on their belt to show off to all and sundry. Winning matters, of course it does, but there is more to it than that. A whole lot more.

McCall has a track record – six Premiership titles, three European Cups – that stands alongside the achievements of an Alex Ferguson or Pep Guardiola. Different sports, wildly different personalities, wholly divergent methods yet the self-same unshakeable focus on the job in hand. McCall is more Carlo Ancelotti than Jose Mourinho, undemonstrative and single-minded. But don’t mistake these men for a soft touch.

Above all, McCall prioritizes empathy and collaboration over didacticism and showmanship. It’s not about him. It’s about them. All of them. Ego has no part in McCall’s universe. That does not mean that he is indecisive or a pushover. Far from it. It’s easy to be a loudmouth. All you need are larynx. It’s far more of an accomplishment to put humility at your core. You need self-assurance to delegate to others, supreme confidence in yourself. For McCall, it is about the cult of character not of personality.

Typically, he has kept himself to himself down the years, declining ever to submit to an in-depth interview, not out of fear of letting slip some trade secrets, but simply because revealing of himself is not the way he is.

Typically, he has kept himself to himself down the years, declining ever to submit to an in-depth interview, not out of fear of letting slip some trade secrets, but simply because revealing of himself is not the way he is. There is the Salary Cap scandal to address, happening on his watch so he cannot be without blame. But he took the punishment, never bleating or squirming, did his penance, the same stoic in adversity as he is in triumph. There is a stain on his record but he accepts that. McCall would not have endured as he has, nor achieved what he has, if he were just a decent bloke at a rugby club.

McCall has proven himself, as a player, winning 13 caps for Ireland, as an inside centre, as a coach, first at Ulster (where he experienced a fair amount of disarray and difficulty), then at Castres alongside fellow Ulsterman, Jeremy Davidson before arriving at Saracens in 2009 where former London Irish colleague, Brendan Venter, was heading up the new Saracens project. Venter returned home to South Africa within two years to deal with pressing family matters but the Saracens board did not hesitate to promote McCall to director of rugby. They had tried the hired-gun, revolving-door, Hollywood star-name system before (nine changes of coach in ten years) and put their faith instead in the holistic approach that Venter and the club hierarchy espoused.

McCall is a leader – not of the tub-thumping, snake-oil salesman type – but one who teaches others to teach themselves. He delegates so that they can learn for themselves, the purest form of education. It’s impossible to recall a player who has not sung his praises, a rarity in any sport. He has impressed by empowering, man management of the highest order. Tactics and strategy will only ever get you so far.

Reticence and shyness should not mask his supreme ability. Like a world-class fly-half, McCall has got the very best out of all those around him.