Become Unstoppable

Opening Thoughts

One of One

Off the field, through the tunnel, and into the All Blacks’ shed at the Parc Olympique Lyonnais in France. It was here that one of the most momentous occasions of my career would take place. The men in black had just sidestepped a potential banana skin: a do-or-die group game against Italy in the 2023 Rugby World Cup. And we’d done it in style too, swatting aside our opponents 96– 17, to avoid a shock elimination. A euphoric mood reverberated between the players and coaches, partly because of the result, but also because two important landmarks had been reached. The first involved Samuel Whitelock, the All Blacks’ imperious lock, having become the first player in history to make 150 appearances in the famous jersey. The second placed me in the spotlight, as I made my 300th outing as the All Blacks’ Mental Performance and Leadership coach, positions I’d held since 2000, when Wayne Smith, then the head coach, had brought me into the group.

Both Sam and myself were called to the front of the shed as the players turned to face us. An eerie moment of stillness settled in the room as everyone took up their positions, dressed in their official team suits and ties. And then Aaron Smith – the kaea, or leader – made his call and the haka began, the ceremony that was part of the team’s pre- match ritual and a display that was engrained into our DNA like the black of the jersey and the silver fern stitched across our hearts. Before Test matches, its performance connected the players to their past while encouraging them to express themselves in the present. But the haka was also a message to the world. It said: We are here; we are one; and we are ready. As a pre- match ritual, it often defeated our opponents before a tackle had been made in anger.

Sometimes, though, the ceremony was turned inwards, either to welcome a new player into the fold, or to commemorate an individ­ual or a significant milestone, such as this occasion with Sam and myself. In such circumstances, the ritual became a celebration, one the recipients welcomed with honour because the haka was always delivered with authenticity and passion. This day was no different. My heart pounded with pride when the players moved and roared in unison and my sporting life seemed to pass before my eyes. I’d joined the All Blacks some 23 years earlier, at a time when my work, performance psychology, was very much the ugly duckling of the sports sciences. There were no peers or predecessors to lean upon when I’d first started working on the mental aspects of the game in the mid 1980s and I’d been forced to push through the headwinds of tradition and bureaucracy. But in doing so, I’d connected with athletes and coaches on a level that took them beyond the basic metrics of form, statistics and results, and into a space where they could hit unexpected levels and maintain consistency. And all while connecting with the most important thing of all: Their soul.

This work later contributed to the All Blacks becoming the greatest team of a generation, as we won two Rugby World Cups in 2011 and 2015, 21 consecutive Bledisloe Cups, seven Tri- Nations Series, and ten Rugby Championships. (The Tri-Nations, which featured New Zealand, Australia and South Africa, became the Rugby Championship in 2012 when Argentina joined the competi­tion.) In striving to reach these targets, we encouraged the squad to Dominate the Decade, a concept we referred to as DTD, and we used this concept to raise our incredibly high standards even higher. The result of this psychological shift was 118 consecutive months spent at the top of the World Rugby Rankings between the years of 2009 and 2019. The evidence was undeniable: we were world beaters. No other collective I’d worked with in sport came close to the All Blacks squad, in terms of quality and innovation. This belief was  confirmed when we won the World Team of the Year category at the 2016 Laureus Awards.

As the haka rampaged and roared around us, I felt a little conflicted. Being the centre of attention didn’t sit easily with me. I wasn’t a fan of the limelight and my work as the Mental Performance and Leadership coach had mainly been delivered from the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the opposition, media and fans. At the same time, I was humbled by the respect on show from the players, among them Sam Cane, Dane Coles, Codie Taylor, Rieko Ioane, Aaron Smith, and the Barretts – Beauden, Jordie and Scott. As their eyes focused on Sam and myself, every gesture seemed to rattle and echo through me, and the group became connected in a way that’s hard to describe today. All I know is that any emotion in the moment felt doubly powerful; it penetrated deeply. And then as the noise died down and the players came by to congratulate Sam and myself, one of our wingers, Leicester Fainga’anuku, shook my hand.

‘One of one, Bert,’ he said, smiling. ‘One of one.’

I had no idea what he was referring to. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘as an All Black on matchday, you can only be one of 23 players, either on the field or on the bench . . .’

‘Yeah?’

‘And as an All Black, you’re only ever one of over a thousand players to have worn the jersey. But you, Bert, are the only person to have been involved in 300 games. You’re unique. One of one.’

Instantly, my personal journey seemed bonded to the team and the All Blacks legacy in a way I hadn’t previously considered. My work, and that of my colleagues, had been groundbreaking and transform­ative for sure. I certainly felt privileged to have experienced such a remarkable career with such an incredible bunch of players, leaders and staff. But like Leicester had noted, I’d also made an indelible mark, and my story was so very different to anyone else involved with the All Blacks. As the crowd dispersed, I stood alone in the shed. One of one. As always.

*

You’ll discover over the course of Become Unstoppable that my career has been an eventful one. But having started at the sharp end of sports psychology at a time when its undeniable influence was either mocked or ignored by those in positions of power, my value as a one of one saw me working with some of New Zealand’s most powerful sports teams including the New Zealand cricket team (the Black Caps), the national netball team (the Silver Ferns), and the Canterbury Crusaders rugby union side. Later, I worked with the New South Wales Blues rugby league team and with the Premier League football side Chelsea, though the throughline in this CV was undoubtedly my role as the All Blacks’ Mental Performance and Leadership coach as they became arguably the greatest sports team of their generation, if not of all time.

None of these achievements came easily though, and my first games with the All Blacks were real eye openers. After early fixtures against Tonga and Scotland, we were set to play Australia, then the world champions, in the Bledisloe Cup on 15 July 2000. The venue was Sydney’s Stadium Australia, and a crowd of nearly 110,000 fans had shown up. At that time, head coach Wayne Smith and myself had begun developing some of the psychological structures that would later drive the All Blacks to success, but there was still a long way to go. Some work had been done on developing a shared vision and a set of values to guide the group in tough moments, but really we were just taking baby steps. It was obvious that there was a huge opportu­nity for growth inside the mental performance space.

In those days, rugby players, like a lot of professional athletes, were very macho. They couldn’t see the benefit in using a Mental Performance Coach, like myself, or leaning into a programme of work that would focus their mind during moments of high stress. Yet what I witnessed in the changing rooms before the Bledisloe Cup game suggested that a dramatic change was required. As the All Blacks readied themselves in the shed, their agitation was visible. Some of them were so anxious they vomited in the toilets beforehand. Worse, this was accepted by everyone present as normal pre- game behaviour, though their unease didn’t show on the field at first. We raced into a 24– 0 lead during an eight- minute pulverising, before wilting under an extended period of pressure as the Australians drew level. In the second half, the game ebbed and flowed, Australia surged into a lead, and we were only able to save our blushes thanks to a last- minute Jonah Lomu try, which won us the game 39– 35. This was a great result for a new coach in his first major outing, but it was obvious to Wayne and myself that significant gains could be made, and a lot of unneces­sary heartache would be avoided, if the players managed the mental challenges that accompanied the biggest games.

At first, our progress in correcting this issue was slow and the team seemed unable to move forward, on and off the field. Wayne, by his own admission, struggled during his time as the All Blacks head coach and could only make changes in small increments. He left the position in 2001 and his replacement, John Mitchell, took up the mantle, but our progress remained slow until John was replaced by Graham ‘Ted’ Henry in 2004. Like his predecessors, Graham soon experienced a similar headache. This was illustrated by an under­whelming Tri- Nations Series in 2004, and then some misbehaviour among the players during our first Grand Slam tour of the profes­sional era in the UK a year later.

In what was a widely reported event, a meeting had been called as we prepared for the first of our upcoming fixtures. But as the players gathered in the team hotel, it became apparent that three of our All Blacks had gone AWOL. The truth was quickly revealed. Having drunk too much on a night out, the trio in question made their way from Wales to London where they’d planned to meet up with a former teammate. After sobering up en route, they realised the error of their ways and made a panicked call to team captain Tana Umaga in which they begged for forgiveness. Tana, unimpressed, then made a specific request to the management group.

‘I don’t want you blokes involved,’ he said. ‘I want to deal with this and meet with them myself.’

God knows what went on during the ‘discussion’, but the guilty players looked rattled afterwards. ‘I’ll never do that again,’ said one. ‘I’ve never been as terrified in a meeting as I was with Tana.’

This was the final straw for Graham and the rest of his management crew. At the time, there were one or two bad apples in the squad and way too many episodes of hardcore drinking and bullying. Behind the scenes, a toxic and selfish attitude had developed, whereby the needs of the individual were taking priority over those of the collective. Some­thing had to change, and it was against this backdrop that an intense discussion occurred within the management group. Eventually, the coaches settled upon a plan: to create an environment where talent could live, and excellence prevail. We wanted to make the exceptional normal, and to do so, three essential anchors were established:

1. Leadership. A high- performance environment doesn’t emerge organically; it requires intentional design, clarity and alignment. To set a positive direction for the team, we first identified the ‘right’ leaders among the playing group and became very intentional about their development. We knew that a group of committed leaders would help define the All Blacks’ vision and set the behaviours and expectations that would shape its performance levels. Once we established a leadership group – and all of them were committed to its ongoing growth and development – then the rest of the players would follow their command.
2. Culture. Leadership was vital when establishing a foundation for success, but it could only be built upon with a healthy team culture in place. This was an environment where a set of high- performing behaviours, beliefs and mindsets – or culture – could be embraced and accepted by all. This was vital if the All Blacks were to improve as a team because a culture that fosters accountability, a sense of belonging and high expectations would ensure that everyone wanted to give to the cause, 24/7.
3. Mental performance. These were the skills that would help our players and teams to thrive under pressure, while exerting maximum effort and performing to the highest possible standards. To achieve this, we curated a toolbox of psychological techniques and tactics for the players to use in high- pressure moments and episodes of adversity.

The path ahead was very clear. The leadership programme would give us direction, as well as initiating and aligning the players to what was required. A solid working culture would sustain the group. And growth in the area of mental performance would enable the players to thrive and execute decisively under pressure.

Picking out the leaders was a straightforward process. Richie McCaw, Keven Mealamu and Dan Carter were emerging as powerful forces within the All Blacks group, and together they helped to drive the team to new heights. They, along with the other leaders, began to shape the attitudes of the players around them. For example, follow­ing on from the incident in Wales, we created a ‘No Dickheads’ policy, which, as the name suggested, encouraged the squad to root out any red flag personalities. There were no set guidelines. Whenever a dickhead was identified, or a dickhead trait came to the fore, it was on the group to police them.

In some cases, the offending players were pulled aside by one of the leaders and informed their actions weren’t acceptable and that they needed to change. This was usually enough to inspire a course correction, and I can’t recall any incidents that led to an immediate dismissal, nor can I think of anyone being sent home after several repeat offences. The most common outcome for a player unable or unwilling to rethink their attitude was an unfussy withdrawal, where they made themselves unavailable for selection going forward. This was a good outcome for everybody. It restored the productive vibes behind the scenes with minimal disruption, while allowing the leaders to drive the group forward unhindered.

Culturally, our changes were wide- ranging. We created a new haka through 2004 and 2005, after learning that some of the players had become disconnected from its Māori roots. (A handful of others felt it was a psychological burden ahead of big games.) To solve these issues, we deepened our understanding of who we were and what we represented by asking ourselves a series of questions. Among them: Who are we as All Blacks and New Zealanders? What does it feel like to pull on the black jersey? And: What does it mean for our opponents when they’re confronted by the All Blacks at our fiercest? Over a series of con­versations, we created a narrative that deepened the players’ connec­tion to the silver fern, the jersey, the country and to the warriors that had come before us. (And those that would follow.) The impact of these initiatives on our culture was massive. A sense of belonging and commitment was created, increasing our power on the field.

Alongside this work, psychological training became our secret sauce, and we used it as a form of preparation in the build- up to every Test match and competition. The players learned how to manage their emotional state and overcome moments of adversity; they dis­covered new tactics for recharging their bodies and minds between demanding events; and they learned how to mentally reframe any pressurised situations, so that they could come alive when the stress kicked in, as revealed by 2019 captain Kieran Read when I chatted to him recently:

We learned that pressure was a lifestyle, and we should feel privileged to be experiencing it. Once I’d crossed the white line, I told myself that the butterflies in my stomach were a sign I was in the right place at the right time. Rather than feeling scared, I had to walk towards expectation and pressure and then face it head- on – it was the only way to succeed. Once the ball was in play for the very first time, and I was making my first sprint, tackle and pass, those butterflies seemed to flutter away. Whenever a negative thought came into my mind, I accepted it – I knew that thoughts were thoughts, and they were impossible to shut out, so instead I sent them on their way and reframed them as a positive.

The three anchors that powered the All Blacks’ transformation between the years of 2004 and 2023 – leadership, culture and mental performance – and the lessons I learned throughout my career, make up the chapters in Become Unstoppable. When applied to everyday life they can help anyone to achieve greatness, regardless of age, experi­ence or position. For example, it’s not just the multinational CEO or the captain in an international rugby team that should sharpen their leadership skills, because at certain points, we’ll likely have to drive the actions of others in our role as the supportive and inspi­rational teammate, family member, or friend. Equally, anyone can benefit from developing a powerful cultural model, and then sticking to it, whether they’re at home, work or play. And all of us will experi­ence moments of adversity and pressure, so it makes sense to master the mental performance skills required to handle life’s toughest tests while still performing to our optimum. My hope is that by working through this book, you’ll go from good to great. And in doing so, reach that most satisfying of benchmarks. One of one.