He had just become unemployed, the temperature was 2C, and he was surrounded by enemies - but rugby coach David Nucifora was smiling.
It was May 22, 2004, and Nucifora had just watched his ACT Brumbies win the Super 12 rugby final, as the Canberra Stadium crowd chanted his name and waved signs saying "Nucifora for Chief Minister".
But as he arrived at the ACT Rugby Union Club for the victory party, as friends cheered, slapped him on the back, handed him drinks, Nucifora was officially out of a job.
Senior Brumbies players, the same men drinking and dancing over on the other side of the party, had become disgruntled during the season at Nucifora's attempts to replace them with younger blood, and six weeks before the final, issued an ultimatum to the club board: Nucifora goes or we do.
"It was a terrific party," says former All Black Murray Mexted, whom Nucifora had invited along.
"He was standing there, smiling, having a drink with everyone else. I remember thinking he was incredibly gracious, very tactful, just as he had been all along.
"I respect and admire him enormously, and I've never heard him whinge about what happened, from that night on."
Mexted, standing beside Nucifora, quietly asked if the Australian would like to teach a few expert coaching workshops at his International Rugby Academy in Wellington. Nucifora said yes. The following month, he flew across the Tasman and began his career again.
Today, as head coach of the Blues, Nucifora must take the once-powerful franchise into the new era of Super 14 rugby.
The Blues were three-time champions of the old Super 12 competition but failed to make last year's semi-finals. Their new coach, the first Australian to lead a top New Zealand side, has already this year been the subject of rumours about his future.
In the humid February air at the Blues training ground in Mt Albert this week, Nucifora is slowly jogging backwards, keeping up with the ball as his new charges rumble across the field, preparing for next Friday's first Super 14 game, against the Hurricanes.
They break for a rest and Nucifora wanders over to the changing sheds behind his new captain, Keven Mealamu, who got the shock of his life just before Christmas.
"Nuci asked me if we could pop over to the little cafe over there at the top of the gym and have a little coffee and talk about a few things, and when the coach says that you think 'I hope I'm not in trouble here'," says the softly spoken Blues and All Blacks hooker.
"I was nervous, actually, because I wasn't too sure what he wanted to talk about. He asked me who I thought would be a good choice for captain, and I put a few names forward, and then he said he'd be looking to appoint me."
Telling the story, Mealamu does a double-take of astonishment to demonstrate his response.
"He said it'd be good if I could go home and tell my family and get another view from them."
Mealamu interpreted the gesture as a signal Nucifora was conscious that the hooker, like many rugby players of Polynesian heritage, makes few moves without consulting his family.
"I think it was very nice of him to be considerate like that," Mealamu says. "When he first arrived here, after the Brumbies thing, I think people weren't too sure what he was going to be like, but it's clear Nuci is a very good coach and has the respect of all the boys. He's got a good Aussie sense of humour, although to tell the truth we're laughing at him most of the time."
Later this week, sitting in the same cafe where he terrorised Mealamu, Nucifora says his job is a constant balance between wanting to be his players' mate and needing to be their boss.
"You always have to know where the line is. The players have to respect you and you have to respect them for what they are; they are elite sportspeople. We have 18 [support] staff and 36 players to worry about on a day-to-day basis, and if any of that goes off the rails, the whole thing can come tumbling down in a hurry."
The Brumbies experience taught him a coach needs to accept unpopularity when necessary, says Nucifora, a genial 44-year-old who laughs when talking about almost everything - including losing his job.
"I think you need to have a thick rubber suit mentality, where you just put it on and you know there's going to be days when you need your rubber suit and you need to be thick-skinned. Because you won't get everyone to like you and you won't get everyone to agree with you, but you must believe in the decisions you make."
When he was appointed Blues coach, dozens of people in and outside rugby asked Nucifora how he was going to handle "the whole Polynesian issue", he says, raising his eyebrows, a tangle of brown and ginger curls which speak of his mixed Italian/Anglo heritage.
"I had to say 'Well, what is the issue?' The only thing I could see was that we didn't pay enough attention to the fact that we will always have a large percentage of Polynesian players in our team. We are probably not dealing with that very well. This team is made up of numerous different cultures, it's almost like a Barbarians team, and you can't thrust a traditional style of leadership down the throat of a team like this.
"That's part of the motivation [behind Mealamu's appointment]. It just so happens that he is of Polynesian extraction and I think he understands the differences; the fact that family is a huge influence in many Polynesian cultures, that they have different social pressures on them."
Sometimes it's a relief not to be anyone's boss. Although the job prevents him seeing as much as he'd like of wife Annabel and children Jack, 11, Katie, 9 and Isabella, 7, most winter Saturday mornings Nucifora can be found with friend and Blues assistant coach Joe Schmidt, watching their sons play in the under-40kg under-11s competition.
"We're always very careful not to get too involved. We make sure to stand well back from the sidelines," Schmidt says.
He rates Nucifora as one of rugby's most methodical and precise coaches, describing how before each week of training, he prepares the Blues' schedule in 13-minute activity blocks. "He's even got hydration breaks scheduled in here," says Schmidt, pointing in mock incredulity at his clipboard.
"Nuci has an attention to detail that's extraordinary. He is meticulous not just about what we do, but about how we do it, not accepting anything done in a sloppy way, breaking each element of the game down and repeating things over and over until they are really right."
Australian-born Blues halfback Steve Devine, who delights in having Nucifora as an ally in Kiwi-baiting, says it has been "bloody good to have someone teach us skills, and he has been introducing really clinical techniques for the first time to a lot of these guys".
"I've found a lot of the guys have just used their size and power on the rugby field. Normally New Zealand teams fly in and try to kill people, but I suppose because the Aussies are physically a bit smaller, they have to use their brains a bit more."
Since he started rugby as an 11-year-old Brisbane Grammar student, Nucifora has delighted in the game as "a puzzle", an almost mathematical exercise.
"I think that there's so much talent here [in Auckland] that it's easy to chop and change players a lot, because you know there's always some other amazing talent around the corner.
"In Australia, you've always had to spot your talent carefully, and once you've got it you've got to wring every ounce of potential out of it. I think we can do that here, but it means being better organised, developing some of these natural athletes a lot further."
His name was mentioned as a potential replacement for sacked Wallabies coach Eddie Jones last month, but former Wallaby David Campese has suggested the team's management deliberately excluded Nucifora by setting a prerequisite of seven years' professional coaching experience.
The job went this week to former Queensland John Connolly, the only candidate who appeared willing to continue selecting George Gregan - unlike Nucifora, who said last month he would have "no hesitation" in removing the fiery halfback to pull the Wallabies out of their slump if he were ever selected as national coach.
Old schoolmate Cameron Lillicrap, a former Wallaby and now Australian team physiotherapist, describes Nucifora as patiently ambitious behind the affable exterior.
"As a player, he always had to battle for his spot in the team at hooker, at every level of the game, and I think that gave him a level of stubbornness and patience that is still there," Lillicrap says.
"He's always been ambitious, and I know he'd like to coach a national team. Whether that's the Wallabies or the All Blacks, it's hard to say, but it's pretty likely to be one or the other before long."
The Nucifora files
David Nucifora
* Born: Brisbane, January 15, 1962
* Job: Coach, Blues Super 14 rugby team
* Career: Played hooker for Queensland (1986-93) and Australia (1991-94), coached Queensland under-19 and club sides, (1996-2002) Brumbies head coach (2002-04), Blues assistant coach (2005)
Nucifora on:
* The Brumbies
"I made decisions because I believed in them, people didn't like them and I didn't get the support I needed. You've got to be strong; you've got to stick by what you think. It would be easy to make decisions that appease everyone and keep everyone happy immediately, but you know you're doing the wrong thing for the future."
* Coaching
"You always have to have a long-term view. The moment you become short-sighted and impatient and you want immediate success, you're not going to get it. You are always under pressure to win, but you can't neglect the need to develop guys for the future."
* Eddie Jones' sacking as wallabies coach
"I just feel [Jones] let it get to a point where he probably didn't make some of the decisions with hindsight that he wished he had made earlier, and he found it damn hard to get out of the trough."
Upbeat Aussie gets the blues
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