Policeman. Father. Handy fast bowler. Provincial centurion turned transformative coach. There are many varied layers to Clayton McMillan. Peeling those back reveals a contrastingly complex picture of the man leading the Chiefs’ revival.
It is Anzac Day in Hamilton as the Chiefs prepare for the night’s headline rematch against theCrusaders, a fixture many expect to offer a preview of this year’s final. In this context McMillan, whistle at the ready, barks orders while making a menace of himself at the odd maul.
At training there is no doubt who assumes charge of a Chiefs side riding a franchise record eight-match unbeaten start to the season. When McMillan speaks, players listen.
Such an image aligns with McMillan’s public face, where he projects his physically imposing, staunch, honest traits.
As McMillan explains though, there is much more to that exterior perception.
“I certainly have the ability to be direct and black-and-white but when people get to know me they understand I’ve got a soft side,” McMillan says. “I can cry at a movie. I’m really empathetic. When I see people hurting that hurts me.
“What you see isn’t always what you get. And that’s the good and the bad. I read in the paper people think I’m extremely cool, calm, collected in the coaching box. If they saw what was going on underneath the table they’d probably have a different opinion.”
Chiefs attack coach Roger Randle, having worked alongside McMillan for six years, paints him as a fiercely loyal family man – a proud father to son Ari, 14, and daughter Peata, 12.
“He’s an awesome husband and father. He has a deep level of care. You see a softer side to him when he gets away from the business side of rugby,” Randle says.
“The loyal part is if you do a good job for him he remembers those things. That loyalty comes with high demands. He’s very challenging. If he feels you’re not pulling your weight, or you can get better in your area, he’ll come and challenge you every Monday around getting better.
“It’s a unique balance he has with the different hats – his police side, his family side. He does it really well.”
Born in Perth to an Australian mother, who died from cancer when he was 6 months old, and a Māori father, McMillan moved to Rotorua aged 3 to sprout roots in a region he deems New Zealand’s Māori cultural epicentre. There he progressed through school, club rugby and into the first of two combined decade-long stints in the police force.
Aunty Marlene, something of a hero to this day, raised McMillan surrounded by te ao Māori in a humble home that held humility and hard-working values at their core.
“I stayed with my aunty and never left until it was time to fly the coop. She was that mother figure,” McMillan says. “She’s still an important part of my life.”
During his teenage years McMillan travelled regularly to Perth in the six-week summer holidays to remain close with his mother’s family.
While he savoured success in the Rotorua Boys’ High 1st XV from No 8, he can also lay claim to being a sharp fast bowler who utilises his height to good effect.
“I was a hopeless batter but a reasonably good bowler. There comes a point as a young fella where you weigh up whether taking up your whole Saturdays is what you want. Once I left school I never picked up a cricket ball until I started playing for the championship-winning Chiefs team.”
That Chiefs cricket side, launched this year, won the Last Man Stands Hamilton competition to foster team culture.
Granted permission to host community opposition at their Ruakura training base, the team featured Brad Weber, New Zealand age-grade captain Kaylum Boshier, Brodie Retallick and McMillan, with Aidan Ross manning the sideline barbecue.
“We really enjoyed that. We didn’t have the same players every week. It got rotated around, everyone got to be captain. When you take part in those things players see a different side to you. I don’t feel like I have any walls up but being seen in a different light and showing you can roll the arm over you get a few bonus points.”
In the modern age, where former All Blacks proliferate New Zealand’s coaching ranks, McMillan is a refreshing rarity. Amid the laser focus on Scott Robertson and his newly-minted All Blacks coaching team from next year, McMillan continues to largely fly under the radar.
McMillan’s real-world experience - shaped by shifts labouring, working at a sawmill and the Rotorua District Court - prove invaluable in the coaching world.
Confronting grim scenes as a constable in Rotorua and Porirua, dealing with tragedy, victims, people of different ages, demographics and all walks of life, provided his greatest insights.
“I’m not too sure why but for as long as I can remember I wanted to be a policeman. I never had any aspirations to go to university. It was always about biding my time until I was old enough to get in there. I’m not a stickler for rules but I want things to be done right. That’s why a job like that probably suited me.
“You see things in that job that you don’t wish anyone to see. Policing, a bit like teaching, you’re in the people business. It teaches you everyone is different, everyone has their own challenges. They’re all human and they like to be treated with respect. I like to think those sorts of values I apply to my coaching role.
“It’s still really tough telling good players they can’t play at the weekend but it pales in comparison to stuff you’ve had to deal with in the past.”
For much of his life McMillan intertwined his three passions – family, rugby and policing.
While he was coaching in Wellington, the chance to return home to lead Bay of Plenty - the province he represented 113 times before spending four years playing in Japan - was irresistible. That leap of faith into professional coaching forced a life-changing decision to leave the police behind.
“Bay of Plenty were last on the table and that didn’t sit too well with me because I’d invested a lot of time as a player so I tried to help get us into a better place.”
That he did, guiding the unfancied Steamers to promotion from the Championship to Premiership top four in his six years at the helm.
From club to age-grade, provincial, New Zealand Māori and Barbarians, McMillan’s coaching pathway traversed 13 teams. Each stop on that prolonged apprenticeship added scar tissue that now represents experience.
“At different stages of that journey I’d wished my coaching career had advanced quicker than it did. Looking back now I’m hugely grateful and if given the opportunity again I wouldn’t change anything. At every level of the game there’s different challenges, different skills to be learned. All of those prepared me really well for the opportunity at the Chiefs.
“I’d give the same advice to anyone coming through the coaching ranks; to learn your craft and find out who you are. Initially you’re a reflection of the people you’ve been coached by. That’s what you know so that’s what you default to. There are elements you retain but you find your own identity and how you want to coach. That took time for me.”
Three years ago McMillan arrived at the Chiefs with the franchise at a low ebb following a record nine successive losses. Initially appointed as interim head coach while Warren Gatland shuffled off to lead the British and Irish Lions on their South African tour, there were no promises beyond that 2021 season.
When Gatland returned, McMillan’s rapid transformation made him irreplaceable. He was retained as head coach, and after one season as director of rugby Gatland departed to Wales the following year. With that awkward situation resolved, the Chiefs this month locked McMillan in through to 2026.
“I’m certainly not irreplaceable but I felt like I was ready to step into Super Rugby. I didn’t come in with any expectations of it developing into anything further other than I knew that if you work hard and you get good buy-in from your players – they see the vision you want to take people on – then it will bring success. And if that happened, maybe there’d be an opportunity to hang around a little bit longer. That’s the mindset I came in with.”
Experienced All Blacks and Chiefs midfielder Anton Lienert-Brown reflects on the Chiefs rebuild in the past two and a half seasons, describing McMillan, as a clear, honest, influential leader.
“Clayton is a big one coming in. From a sport’s team perspective we hit rock bottom and when that happens you have the most honest conversations among the leaders, players and management,” Lienert-Brown says. “Clayton was part of that review. He made the changes that were needed. He always talked about it being a process, that it wouldn’t happen overnight but over time.
“Wayne Maher on the high-performance side has worked well with Clayton to realise the potential of the playing group. If you’re part of a successful business you understand the need for an organisation to be strong. That’s where we’re building to. We’re getting there.
“Clayton is hard-nosed but he also cares. That’s a great balance to have as a head coach. We can play any team at the moment. And he brings the belief so you see players at their best.”
Dave Rennie and Wayne Smith, during the Chiefs golden period where they captured their two titles in 2012-13, founded that team on Māori cultural values. Reconnecting with those powerful elements - the land, people and Waikato Tainui tribe the Chiefs represent - is an essential pillar of McMillan’s era, too.
“I’ve tried to add to that legacy,” McMillan, who competed in kapa haka, says. “Some people if they’re not comfortable will shy away from it. I saw real value in it. We’ve put our own spin on it. That was important. We acknowledged the really good stuff from the past but we evolved it. Every year we try and build on it more. We’re doing a good job in that space.”
After several dominant victories this season McMillan, in his no-nonsense manner, firmly stated the Chiefs are far from the finished product. Such statements could be intended to retain humility. While that may partly be true, he views his career through the same lens.
“I feel like I’m in the infancy of my coaching. When I was a younger coach I thought I had all the answers. Until you get exposed to new teams, different coaches, different players you realise you’ve got a hell of a lot more to learn. The game is constantly evolving. If you think you’re the finished product it’s time to start looking at a new job.
“From a team perspective we’ve scored some good tries but we haven’t put together a complete 80-minute performance. It will come, and we’re hopeful it’s at the right time. But we’re really grounded that we’ve got heaps of growth left in us.”
The same could be said for the contrasting Chiefs leader reviving a dwindling coaching pathway.