Essendon, Carlton and Tasmania are all hunting for a new senior coach. Most of the noise will be about resumes — who's the smartest tactician, who's won flags, who has the best CV.
But a former AFL player with more than a decade in elite environments says clubs are asking the wrong questions entirely.
The real ones, he reckons, come from the players: Can we trust them? Will they back us? What are they like when things aren't going well?
"I've played under coaches I would have run through a wall for," he writes. "I've also played under coaches I struggled to connect with."
The difference was rarely football knowledge. Elite coaches all understand the game. The gap was leadership style.
And here's the thing — players don't all want the same thing.
Some need inspiration. Others need structure. Some need belief. Others need accountability. What they all want is trust, but coaches build it in very different ways.
"There's no such thing as the perfect coach. There are simply different types of coaches, and different groups that need different things at different times."
He breaks down the styles. Storytellers like Luke Beveridge, who created belief and purpose for the Bulldogs' 2016 flag. Orchestrators like Chris Scott, who gives clarity and consistency. Teachers like Craig McRae, who rebuilt Collingwood through growth and connection. Connectors like Chris Fagan, who turned Brisbane into a place players wanted to stay. And generals like Adam Kingsley, who drive standards through accountability and discipline.
None is better. The trick is matching the style to the list.
A young rebuilding side may need a teacher. A fractured group may need a connector. A talented but inconsistent bunch may need a general. A premiership contender may need an orchestrator to refine the final details.
And the coach doesn't have to do it all alone. The best clubs build coaching panels that complement the senior coach. A great connector might need a hard-edged standards coach beside them. A tactical mastermind might need assistants who excel at relationships and player development.
"Just as lists are built around complementary skill sets, so too are coaching departments," he writes.
He warns against treating coaches as plug-and-play. The same coach who thrives in one environment may struggle in another — not because they've become worse, but because the group needed something different.
Tasmania's search is a perfect example. They're not just appointing a coach; they're building a club from scratch. The question isn't who has the best resume. It's what type of culture, standards and identity they want to create.
There's also the problem of external noise. Fans want hope. Boards want credibility. The media wants a headline. The constant speculation about James Hird's coaching future shows how candidates can become about public perception rather than football fit.
"Coaches aren't appointed to win press conferences or satisfy external noise," he says. "They're appointed to lead players."
And when a new coach walks in the door, players aren't discussing tactical innovations. They're asking: What's he like? Does he back his players? Is he approachable? What's he like when things aren't going well? Does he apply the same standards to everyone?
Those questions reveal something important. Players don't necessarily want a coach they like. They want a coach they trust.
For Essendon, Carlton and Tasmania, that's the real interview question.