It was hard for the Blues’ executive and owners to put a label on it, or even knowprecisely what it was they felt their team was missing after falling apart in the 2022 final, but they had a definite sense that there were core elements in need of immediate attention and a probable major rebuild.
If they had to broadly surmise what they felt might be wrong – they would have said there was a softness afflicting the team – a deep-rooted inability to truly understand that sport comes with adversity and that champions are defined by their work ethic, a psychological resilience to fight back and hang in.
What made it hard to be sure was that the Blues’ symptoms didn’t present until they were deep into the competition, and so there was this illusionary sense as they went through the 2022 season suffering just one loss until the Crusaders destroyed them in the final, that there was this hard edge to them.
The Blues power brokers weren’t wrong to be confident going into that final two years ago, because they felt that the 2022 campaign had been four years in the making.
The journey to that final began in September 2018 when, after months of dispute and dysfunction between the club’s various shareholders, independent investor Murray Bolton agreed to stand down as chairman and sell his 40 per cent stake to New Zealand Rugby.
No one knew it then, but it was the most important change in the club’s history as it brought former All Blacks coach John Hart to the board table as a director.
His rarefied skillset of in-depth high-performance knowledge and corporate and commercial acumen gave the Blues a mandate to change and someone with the ability to guide it in the right direction.
What followed was a total overhaul of every facet of the club, because it was apparent to Hart that the Blues were not operating as a high-performance entity should.
There were systemic failures in talent identification that led to quality players leaving Auckland to play elsewhere.
The relationship between provincial partners Auckland and North Harbour and the Blues was adversarial and competitive, and the Chiefs, Crusaders, Highlanders and indeed the Warriors and Melbourne Storm, were all able to make simpler, more compelling contract offers to players.
Not only were the Blues not keeping who they should but those who stayed were too regularly revealed to be products of Auckland’s First XV environment – a competition that may have nationwide kudos but is guilty of developing teams that are too reliant on star power and players who are supersized and powerful but not necessarily mentally strong or equipped with strategic nous.
The 1A is also a world where young men can feel idolised and revered; it’s a world where poor behaviour can be enabled, bad habits fostered and ultimately, too many progress to the professional ranks having never developed the ability to be personally accountable.
So too was the club being impacted by Auckland’s property boom that kept house purchases out of financial reach, and half the squad, if not more, would be living at home and not developing self-reliance, or the problem-solving attributes of adult life.
So much needed to be fixed and methodically worked through to put the club on a sustainable high-performance footing and set it up to succeed.
But the board had the appetite and patience for a long-term fix and piece by piece, they worked through the issues – rebuilding the relationship with investment partners Auckland and North Harbour to produce a talent identification and development plan that was aligned and clear.
In 2019 Andrew Hore was installed as chief executive, to give the club a day-to-day leader who has tirelessly reconnected and connected the club to its community and given the Blues a greater presence in all the places it needs to be visible.
So too has he fostered a stronger sense of identity for the club and in conjunction with high-performance managers Josh Blackie and then Murray Williams, built better development programmes for players and coaches.
The Blues, painstakingly, shed their inglorious past to the extent that in 2021 Hart led a consortium of investors that had enough confidence to buy NZR’s stake, and so it was understandable that when they reached the final in 2022, there was a massive shock to find out that the team was considerably more vulnerable than anyone realised.
There was still a fault in the system – still something that wasn’t enabling the team to perform in those crunch encounters, and so when head coach Leon MacDonald was unveiled in April last year as part of Scott Robertson’s 2024 All Blacks coaching line-up, the board set out to find a replacement that they felt could deepen the team’s resolve – or in layman’s parlance, toughen them up.
An exhaustive search led them to Vern Cotter, a 62-year-old farmer from the Bay of Plenty.
Some combinations may not necessarily make sense, but they work, something undoubtedly true at the Blues where a Gen Z team has fallen in love with the baby-booming Cotter.
For years the Blues have searched for a coach who can get on the same wavelength as a cosseted and at times entitled player base that revel in the urban delights offered by the big smoke.
But it turns out that what the players wanted – and what they certainly needed – was a tough love, fatherly figure promoting old school values, in direct, simple, confronting language.
Ask around the Blues hierarchy to characterise Cotter, and the two words most frequently used are ‘simple’ and ‘honest’.
And this is what the Blues players have loved this year – Cotter tells them succinctly and clearly what he wants them to do and a player such as Sam Darry, whose athletic potential is obvious, has blossomed simply because he gets now what his role is.
Ofa Tuungafasi is another who has produced the best rugby of his career under Cotter and it seems like the veteran All Blacks prop and his team-mates have been hanging out for the last decade for someone like Cotter to arrive and not indulge them, tolerate poor habits or pander to their whims.
But Cotter shouldn’t be portrayed euphemistically as exclusively old school – because key to the team’s success has been the regularity of his communication with players, and his ability to change gears and realise when people need a kick up the backside and when they need a loving arm placed around them.
He’s not one-dimensional, in other words, and testament to the relationship he has built with the team can be seen in the rapport he has with the players, who have an appreciation they can joke with him, but that he is the coach and not their friend.
And nor can Cotter be the one to garner all the credit for rebuilding the Blues this year – his coaching group have all played their part, too.
There has also been a simplification of the gameplan and again, the way a team renowned for its flair and off-the-cuff rugby has bought into a structured, direct, no-frills collision/set-piece approach has been a major surprise.
But when players believe in the coaching group and understand precisely what they want, these sorts of major strategic shifts become possible, and besides, the Blues have looked a more natural low-risk team than they ever did when they were licensed to chuck the ball about under the loose guise of ‘play what you see’.
Every other coach has arrived at the Blues with the preconceived notion that the athletes are best suited to an expansive gameplan, but Cotter has rationalised that powerful ball carriers and explosive athletes can be just as effectively utilised smashing their way up the middle of the field.
It’s been a surprise to see the Blues play like this, but it is a style that has reduced their vulnerability, and whether they win on Saturday or not, it is hard to see them collapsing the way they did in 2022.
Some caution, though, must remain about believing the Blues have been requisitely toughened to the point where they can win a Super Rugby title.
This mistake of thinking they are ready when they are not has been made before, but the 2024 version of the Blues feels like an infinitely more robust team than their 2022 predecessors.