As Essendon, Carlton and Tasmania begin searching for their next senior coach, most of the attention will focus on credentials. Who’s the smartest tactician? Who has won premierships? Who has the strongest coaching resume?
Players tend to ask different questions. Can we trust them? Will they back us? What are they like when things aren’t going well?
Because from a player’s perspective, those answers often matter more than any line on a CV.
After more than a decade in elite sporting environments, I’ve become convinced there is no such thing as the perfect coach. There are simply different types of coaches, and different groups that need different things at different times.
I’ve played under coaches I would have run through a wall for. I’ve also played under coaches I struggled to connect with, and in those environments, I don’t think either of us got the best out of the relationship. Looking back, the difference was rarely football knowledge.
Elite coaches all understand the game. The difference was often leadership style.
One of football’s biggest misconceptions is that players all want the same thing from a coach. They don’t.
Some players thrive on inspiration. Others need structure. Some need belief. Others need accountability. Ultimately, what players are looking for is trust – and coaches build trust in very different ways.
Some are storytellers. Luke Beveridge’s ability to create belief and purpose was central to the Bulldogs’ 2016 premiership.
Others are orchestrators. Chris Scott’s strength has been creating clarity and consistency. Players know where they stand and understand their role.
Some are teachers. Craig McRae arrived at Collingwood and rebuilt confidence through growth, learning and connection.
Others are connectors. Chris Fagan helped transform Brisbane into a club where players wanted to stay, improve and invest in each other.
Then there are the generals. The coaches who drive standards through accountability and discipline. The message is clear, direct and uncompromising – your Adam Kingsley types. Every successful football club needs elements of this style, whether it comes from the senior coach or the broader
leadership group.
But as a player, I’ve always felt teams will only respond positively to one or two genuine sprays each year. When they’re used too often, they lose their impact. The best coaches understand that accountability isn’t about volume – it’s about timing. When they speak, the group listens because they know it matters.
None of these styles is inherently better than another. The challenge for clubs is identifying which style best suits their playing group.
A young rebuilding list may need a teacher. A fractured list may need a connector. A talented but inconsistent list may need a general. A premiership contender may need an orchestrator capable of refining the final details.
There’s also a tendency to assess coaches in isolation. The reality is that modern coaching is a team sport.
The best clubs build coaching panels that complement their senior coach. A great connector might need a hard-edged standards coach beside them. A tactical mastermind might need assistants who excel at relationships and player development.
Just as lists are built around complementary skill sets, so too are coaching departments.
Often the most successful clubs are those with the best coaching team.
Too often, we talk about coaches as if they’re plug-and-play. As if the same coach would achieve the same results at every club. Football simply doesn’t work that way.
The same coach who thrives in one environment may struggle in another – not because they’ve become a worse coach, but because the group needed something different.
Tasmania’s search highlights this perfectly. They’re not just appointing a coach; they’re building a club from the ground up. The question isn’t, “who has the best resume?” It’s what type of culture, standards and identity they want to create.
There’s also a temptation during coaching searches to think about everyone except the people the coach will spend the most time with.
Fans want hope. Boards want credibility. The media wants a headline. The constant discussion around James Hird’s coaching future highlights this perfectly. Sometimes coaching candidates become as much about public perception as football fit. But coaches aren’t appointed to win press conferences or satisfy external noise. They’re appointed to lead players, and that’s where the real assessment should begin.
Because when a new coach arrives, players aren’t discussing tactical innovations. They’re asking different questions: What’s he or she like? Do they back their players? Are they approachable? What are they like when things aren’t going well? Do they apply the same standards to everyone?
Those questions reveal something important. Players don’t necessarily want a coach they like. They want a coach they respect.
The coaches I’ve respected most challenged me, demanded more from me and gave honest feedback. I always knew where I stood.
Players can handle hard truths. What they struggle with is uncertainty.
I’ve won premierships under coaches with vastly different personalities and leadership styles. What they all understood was their playing group. They didn’t try to coach another team’s list. They coached the people sitting in front of them.
That’s why the smartest clubs aren’t simply searching for the best coach available. They’re searching for the right coach. The one whose leadership style fills the biggest gap in their playing group at that moment.
Because from a player’s perspective, coaching success is rarely about tactics alone. It’s about fit.
