A number of years ago, I remember – rather unfondly – meeting Eddie Jones in his office, with the express purpose of “selling” him a program of player welfare.

Eddie was coaching the Queensland Reds at the time and one member of his senior management team strongly believed the players would benefit from a “broadened perspective” – let’s call it a “heightened focus on life balance”.

With what I knew about Eddie at the time, I held little hope of gaining traction, but the manager was insistent – “let’s give it a go…what have we got to lose?”

I arrived with a carefully crafted presentation – two beautifully bound copies, one for Eddie, one for me – so we could work through it together. I’d first explore his priorities, what he was interested in, what he valued in the “off field” space, before highlighting the elements of the program that aligned with his high performance objectives.

The meeting lasted four minutes.

Eddie didn’t even open the presentation, let alone look at it. It was one of the great cursory dismissals in corporate history. I was the ugly bloke in the bar, approaching the beautiful girl and getting told in no uncertain terms to bugger off, even before I’d opened my mouth.

Thanks for your time, Eddie. Good chat.

That afternoon, my “sponsor” rang to find out how the “pitch” had gone.

“Four minutes? Wow. I feared as much, never mind – it was a worth a try.”

Yeah. Nah.

Say what you like about Eddie, but he never deviates far from his authentic self. Always been very singular in his focus. Player welfare begins and ends with winning. Who the players are as people and what they do outside of the game – particularly once they retire – that’s a matter for them, not him.

Roll forward 16 or so seasons and here we are, the Wallabies 2023 Rugby World Cup campaign in total tatters, our chances of advancing out of the weakest pool in the tournament hinging on a 100-1 shot – spirited minnows Portugal putting the sword to the fit, fast, flamboyant Fijians.

Keep your money in your pocket, punters. It ain’t going to happen.

Eight months ago, when Eddie was parachuted back into the Wallaby coaching frame, I like every other Australian rugby supporter predicted there would at least be a performance spike.

Historically, that’s what has happened – regardless of where and whom Eddie’s been coaching, he’s achieved immediate results. His significant rugby intellect, coupled with his intense, snarly, acerbic manner has routinely paid dividend, at least in the short term.

What I also know to be true, the players, while initially enthusiastic and supportive, gradually tire of the intensity, mentally more than physically. The Eddie mind games, the brutal feedback, the private humiliation – it wears them down to the point where second guessing becomes second nature.

Matt Giteau’s 21st birthday celebrations, for instance. “What are ya doing, Gits? Ya not having a beer, are ya?” No, Eddie, just having dinner. Eddie strolls past and slides a cold stubbie in front of the birthday boy. Happy birthday Gits! WTF? Does anybody have the number of the team psychologist?

I remember Nathan Sharpe, who captained the Wallabies 20 times in 116 Tests for his country between 2002-2012, once describing Eddie as “both the best and worst coach he’d ever had”. He could be so brilliant, and yet other times, downright detestable. Gleaming white or sinister black – not a spot of grey anywhere to be seen.

Only those inside the Wallaby camp really know why it’s gone so horribly wrong in France. The rest of us can only hypothesise, pontificate. That the views and theories of senior rugby commentators on the ground at the tournament differ so widely confirms the complexity of the current challenges. There’s no one simple solution.

But one line of questioning worth pursuing – is Eddie, at the grumpy age of 63, still suited to the modern day demands and pressures of elite coaching? Or has his uncompromising, hard-nosed approach finally passed its use-by date? Is he no longer able to relate to the new breed of athlete and their appetite for affirmation, positive reinforcement, even psychological safety?

In so many ways, team locker-rooms today mirror boardrooms – what was commonplace and readily acceptable 20 years ago simply doesn’t cut the mustard in 2023. And it’s not a matter of whether “the new norms” in thinking, behaviour and expectation are right or wrong – it’s a question of “what works best?”

How do coaches, leaders, chief executives create an environment where key talent, regardless of their field of endeavour, are able to perform at their absolute best?

Widening the sporting lens beyond rugby, is it just coincidence that Ivan Cleary and Craig McRae, the coaches of the winning NRL and AFL teams last weekend both seem to have a quiet, inbuilt “EQ calm” to them?

Cleary reads and abides by the insights of American management guru Patrick Lencioni; McRae is recognised as being kind and compassionate, as well as openly vulnerable himself.

Sure, both have plenty of “good cattle” at their disposal, but again, borrowing from the world of agriculture, “there’s an art to how they’re mustered”. As the wise old grazier knows, “the fastest way to move cattle is slowly. Calmly. No rushing. Rushing just causes stress, and stress often becomes contagious.

Watching on from the safely of the lounge room, there’s been very little calm and composed about Eddie Jones over the course of this World Cup campaign. Eddie’s been permanently on the offensive, even picking fights with journalists before the team boarded the plane for France. “Ya don’t know anything about rugby mate!” he squawked angrily on one occasion. That could well be true, but how is antagonising the media going to help the Wallabies’ World Cup preparations? It’s not.

Donning my “amateur expert hat”, I think back to the decision to “hook” Carter Gordon, the squad’s only specialist flyhallf, early in the second half of the pool match against Fiji, on account of the youngster’s unhappy opening stanza.

Just 11 points down at the time, almost 30 minutes to play, it smacked of panic.

Putting to one side a couple of very “visible” mistakes, Gordon was still far and away the Wallabies most creative back, a player capable, even likely of leading the resurgence. Instead, Eddie sent a clear message. “I don’t trust you to get the job done”.

I wonder what Dave Rennie would have done in the same situation? From what I understand, Rennie is cut from the same cloth as Cleary and McRae.

But Rennie was no good. Dud win-loss record.

Big moments in sport call for cool heads, composure, patience. A “no need for panic” approach.

Generally coaches develop this sense of calm as they mature, learning what works by becoming so practised in what doesn’t work. As the old saying goes, take enough swings at the plate, and you’re bound to hit a home run eventually.

But success in any field, particularly the pressure cooker environment of professional sport, relies heavily on self reflection. What working? What’s not working? What are we going to keep doing, start doing, stop doing?

There are lots of difficult questions that need answering.

Goodness knows who’s going to lead the review, but let’s hope Eddie enters the process with an open mind.

I’d offer to chime in, but as you know, my past record with Eddie isn’t great.