A Tale of Three and a Half Coaches

Yes, I did play alongside Benja at Nondies, and I still belive a local coach would be the best solution. Also published in the Business Daily on 4 February 2014 at http://www.businessdailyafrica.com/Opinion-and-Analysis/Lessons-on-corporate-leadership/-/539548/2171586/-/a7evop/-/index.html

First, let me warn you. This is going to be a rant.

The Kenya rugby sevens team is one of the most exciting and impressive in the world. The fluidity of their play, their speed, bravery and flair make them a favourite for fans the world over. The team members are rightfully becoming stars (though, in typical Kenyan fashion, perhaps more lauded abroad than at home).

The Kenyan team used to roll over traditional rugby-playing nations with scant respect, and only used to pause and re-strategise when faced with true rugby giants such as New Zealand and South Africa. Even then, the team was beginning to beat these superpowers – including once, memorably, against New Zealand in New Zealand. Kenya got to two successive World Cup semi-finals, and looked like they were cruising to ultimate victory in Moscow last year, until a truly biblical storm put paid to its efforts against England.

So why am I so unhappy? The team’s performances in the current series (the World Sevens Series runs from October to May, and is played at stadia all over the world) have been reminiscent of a bus whose wheels are coming off. The team is struggling against erstwhile minnows such as Canada, and now can only contemplate encounters against the All Blacks or Blitzbokke with dread.

Why is this the case, and what are some of the lessons that we can draw from this (and also transform this from a sports column to a business one)? Many reasons have been bandied around for the rough patch the team is currently going through.

Ask around, and three names will turn up: Benjamin Ayimba, Mike Friday and Paul Treu. These are the coaches who have been in charge of the team through its most successful period, and now, in its relative decline. Keep those names in mind, as well as a fourth one, Felix Ochieng.

Friday, a ginger-haired Englishman, is a highly-strung, pocket-rocket of a man. He coached Kenya in 2012 and 2013, at the apogee of the team’s success. He had taken over from Ayimba, who had taken Kenya to its first World Cup semi-final in Dubai in 2009. Paul Treu, the current coach, was hired at great expense after Friday’s departure in tragicomical circumstances (truly a farce, but a tale too detailed to fit here).

So here is the first lesson. ‘Benja’ (who was my teammate at Nondescripts RFC, as propriety dictates that I disclose) had taken the team to the cusp of greatness. However, it was felt that now the team needed a ‘world-class’, or ‘big-name’ coach. Sports analysts have argued that Ayimba had reached the limits of his abilities, and that the team needed fresh thinking and a new gear, but doesn’t that remind you of many companies whose bosses are sacked the instant they build companies up to the edge of brilliance? Many former CEOs will regale you with tales of pink slips upon a merger or buyout, even when they’re the ones who transformed the company enough to make it attractive to suitors.

Second, Friday, by sheer excitement and volubility (he is an avid Twitterer, and was known to speak his mind) is remembered fondly, and still has an avid fan club in Kenya. However, what’s forgotten about his short but eventful reign is that Kenya never won a single tournament. He transformed the team, and was beloved of his players, but where it counted – in silverware – the cupboard was bare of the ultimate prize. Some may claim he never had enough time to actually win, but that one statistic is a dark cloud on a very bright sky. Again, many leaders have led companies like comets: bright, exciting, with troops ready to storm the ramparts; but the company comes up short on the metric that truly counts – whether that be profits or market leadership.

Finally is the fate of Ochieng’ and Treu. Totti, as Ochieng’ has been known for decades (and whom I have known since high school), has an impeccable playing pedigree, having been a leading member of the teams that transformed Kenyan rugby. He’s transitioned into a formidable coach, and was interim tactician when Friday was shown the door.  He achieved a modicum of success in two tournaments, but the body language from the Kenya Rugby Union was always that he was a placeholder until they could get their hands on Paul Treu, the retiring South African coach. Treu and his assistants – all South Africans – were offered millions in pay, salaries that were never available to Ochieng or Ayimba. Thus, the familiar story is repeated of middle managers toiling away and holding the company together while the board searches far and wide for a highly paid, ‘suitable’ CEO.

I still think the Kenyan team can achieve greatness (and even, we all hope) win Olympic gold in 2016. But the events of the past few months do cause one some sadness – and lead to uncontrolled rants. Watch the team in action this weekend in Wellington, and hope that my tale of decline is premature and unnecessarily alarmist.