A sentence on Slippery Sweeney: In defence of Eddie Jones
Where to start with someone like Eddie Jones? As he departs from Twickenham for the final time, there is a conspicuous feeling of dissonance around the England coach’s removal.
He ends his tenure with the best win percentage (73%) in England history yet leaves behind a side that has regressed from the beast he’d crafted by 2019. In both results and style of play, this England side is a shadow of its former self.
The last two years have been characterised by taking one step forwards and two steps back, transitory periods of excellence followed by abjection. The last 10 minutes against the All Blacks followed by the lacklustre performance again South Africa was exemplary of that.
To assess the seven years of Eddie Jones’ regime feels like an academic exercise such was the volume of his turns in fortune, the bibliography heavy with sources citing both sides of the argument.
Problems have simmered constantly below the surface under Jones, protected and somewhat overlooked until now by the sheen of success. The attrition of training sessions, the constant overturn of coaching staff, his aggressive management style and the churning through of every English qualified player and their dogs only to somehow manage to start Jonny May has finally caught up with him.
From playing Tom Curry at 8 to ignoring the likes of Sam Simmonds and Ben Earl, there was always a streak in Jones that needed to go against the grain simply to assert his position. And while this has worked in the past there has been a clear loss of identity after 2019, Jones’ attempt to establish ‘New England’ iteration number three failing to take hold.
However, whether or not you believe his time has run its course, it’s undeniable that Eddie Jones is one of England’s greatest ever coaches. A World Cup Final, three Six Nations titles and a first Grand Slam in 13 years speak for themselves.
Moreover, on a more intangible level, it’s easy to forget what he brought to English rugby. He came with a distinctly Australian swagger, a confidence, a fresh charisma that England was in dire need of after a stale performance at a home World Cup. A man who won the privilege of the ubiquitous first name, his character was decisive in inspiring England to their most successful period in over a decade.
It’s under Jones that England matched the world record of 18 straight victories; it’s under Jones that they conquered a New Zealand side on track for their third consecutive World Cup; it’s under Jones that the absolute best was brought out the likes of Hartley, Ford, George and Lawes.
But it’s because of all this he achieved that, while it may be time for Jones to go, it cannot be overlooked that he has been completely hung out to dry by his employers.
RFU CEO Bill Sweeney, along with sidekick Conor O’Shea, have tirelessly backed Jones as the man to take England through to the 2023 World Cup. It was but four months ago after the tour to Australia that Jones was endorsed by Sweeney as the World Cup coach, a follow up to his assurances in March following a dire Six Nations.
But now, with the vultures circling following their evisceration in last months DCMS select committee, Sweeney and the RFU have chosen to take a timely high ground. They had clearly given Jones licence to continue in his World Cup focused approach, but when it came to a choice between loyalty and saving face the latter was chosen with ease.
The timing just feels all too convenient for the RFU. If they were to sack him it should have been after the Six Nations. Now, 10 months out from France, the options should have been Warren Gatland or stick with Eddie; a middleman in Richard Cockerill is the solution nobody wanted.
They’ve even managed to put successor-elect Steve Borthwick in quite the dilemma.
The Leicester coach has worked so hard and so prudently to build his stock, but now the RFU want to drop him into the middle of a crisis. The right time for him to take over is post 2023, and this is the least he deserves.
Ultimately, the RFU backed themselves into a corner, deciding to place the blame at Jones’ door and refusing to even attempt an introspective glace.
Of course, it wasn’t Sweeney alone who made the decision. He was joined by a gaggle of faceless executives and board members, all of whom clustered together in some exclusive-access war room in the bowls of Twickenham to make their self-indulgent verdict.
But the panel have now made their decision, and Eddie Jones is out the door. Perhaps it won’t be too long until Sweeney goes the same way.
