I always feel uneasy watching a sacked coach’s press conference. Regardless of their performance, exposing a coach to the wolf pack that have all been jostling to be the first to break the news of their demise, must be daunting.

My thoughts today were with North Melbourne coach David Noble as he was laid bare to the public. No one deserves such ignominy.

Whatever Noble’s behaviours were within the four walls of Arden St, no doubt he upset a few in the football department and once that happens it can quickly escalate, especially when you’re not winning.

My own experience of being a member of the ‘Sacked Coaches Club’ is a difficult one to revisit even sixteen years on. Although I’ve tried to push it down, the trauma is still there as well as the anger, not just at those responsible but at myself for allowing it to happen.

You don’t have to be an AFL coach to feel the humiliation of a sacking. Whilst coaching Hobart in the Premier League in 2006, it arrived like a coward’s punch.

It’s not like I didn’t deserve it in a sense. Like Noble, I wasn’t coaching well and if anything I was trying too hard and taking on too much. I had no one I could trust and the leadership within the group from senior players was non-existent. It was a recipe for disaster.

I was employed by a global drinks company and sent to Tassie for four years managing accounts and two sales reps. The work was hectic and required a lot of travel.

My last coaching role had been as an assistant and reserves coach at Box Hill in the VFL four years prior. I was missing footy when an offer came along to coach Hobart in 2005.

Hobart had been part of the State-wide competition to that point but that dissolved and they returned to the local Premier League which meant not having to travel north to play.

Upon finishing up in the State-wide competition, there was what would be in the real world, a minor clash. Kingston, who had been promoted to the Premier League, wore Richmond colours and were The Tigers, exactly what Hobart were for the entirety of their history.

Instead of negotiating a reasonable outcome for both teams, Hobart went to war only to end up having to change to the Brisbane colours and name, The Lions. This displeased the Hobart fans intensely.

Enter the new coach, bright eyed, bushy tailed, idealistic and completely naïve to the ridiculous and maniacal attitude of the locals.

The dissention to the change of Tigers to Lions was so palpable, we struggled for player numbers and supporters. In desperate need of some love for the joint we organised a working party to reconfigure the changerooms into something more professional that would attract players.

Then it was garnering sponsorship from businesses I knew, which came to a much needed $30k and then it was a pre-season trip to Melbourne where we were able to train at Arden St, The Whitten Oval and Ikon Park whilst being accomodated at Melbourne Uni.

I remember returning to Hobart after a very successful trip to Melbourne feeling confident that some pillars were now in place for the season ahead. I received word that there was a gathering of past players at a pub who were still fighting the change to the Lions, so I volunteered to speak to them.

Filled with the best intentions of explaining to these middle aged former players that colours and mascots aren’t as important as developing the youth of the club, I was soon shouted down and told to piss off in no uncertain terms.

The 2005 season was a constant battle both on and off the field but we were able to blood some genuinely talented young players for the future. It must have been reasonably satisfying as I was contracted for a further two years..

2006 started with a minor crisis in that the club couldn’t find a reserves coach so I did both, leaving the reserves after the 3/4 time huddle to tend to the seniors. Clearly there was still disgruntled ex players and supporters who had abandoned all hope of ever being The Tigers again, and therefore refusing to help the club in any way shape or form.

By Round 6 and at three wins, three losses,  I felt something significantly change versus the reigning premier New Norfolk. In the week leading up to the game I took the previous captain of the club for a coffee and told him he was playing in the reserves due to lack of fitness and form.

The day before the match someone pulled out so I elevated the former captain to start on the bench. At three quarter time there was only a goal in it, so I brought on said player, an experienced midfielder, to extract the ball from the centre and provide the leadership necessary to enable the young guys to take a big scalp.

New Norfolk kicked eight unanswered goals and the former skipper barely touched it. He stood in the 50m square like Geoff Hayward in The Club, stoned and staring at seagulls.

I was ropable for the next few days and what I should have been aware of was the murmurings of dissent coming from within the senior group and the president, who had their ear.

At our next main session I made the players train without using any voice, given that was what they delivered the previous weekend. Coincidentally it was a method Terry Wallace used at Richmond shortly after (not because of me of course) and it would eventuate in the same outcome for him sadly!

So at three wins, four losses we headed to Bellerive Oval to play the mighty Clarence. I could sense an unease before the game which I just put down to the opposition in waiting. The senior players were extremely quiet and it was soon clear on the field that they were sending me a message. Their effort was abysmaI and I think the margin was 105 points in the end.

Within my job I was part of the Vic/Tas management team and attended leadership meetings every fortnight. This meant a 6am flight out of Hobart to Melbourne.

The morning after the Clarence shemozzle, I was sitting on the tarmac in the warm Virgin 767 and I opened the daily Hobart paper, The Mercury.

On the inside of the back page was an article that was headed, “Wilson’s future to be decided tonight.” I thought to myself, “Interesting. Same name as me. Holy shit, that is me!”

The senior players had leaked a meeting they were having in order to have me sacked, to a lecherous sports writer, therefore defaming me without my knowledge.

When I arrived in Melbourne I rang my assistant coach who denied knowing anything and in the evening I rang the former captain who calmly and proudly admitted to organising the coup. He had also arranged for his cousin, a former Melbourne FC player to take over as coach behind my back. A quality individual.

The following evening I returned to Hobart to face the board, the captain and president. As it turned out a few of the board knew nothing about the meeting and not all the players voted to remove me, preferring to get up and leave the building, so therefore no consensus was reached.

At the end of the day it didn’t matter, nothing could be reconciled. I wanted to murder certain individuals and there was no way I could go back.

As I was driving home, a board member rang and gave me the name of Clarence’s lawyer. I paid him a visit the next day and he hauled the Hobart FC president into his offices. The result was a payout for my contract but it wasn’t about the money, it was simply the principle.

Those behind the scenes had tarnished my reputation for not just coaching but in business given everyone knows everyone in Tassie. I’m the first to admit I wasn’t coping well at that time but I had no sounding board, just backstabbers.

I received some phone calls from old team mates and coaches which was comforting and the message I remember vividly from Donald McDonald was to always take at least one person you can trust with you to a coaching job.

It took me eight years before I could coach again after the Hobart experience. Coaching intellectually disabled players in the FIDA competition for four years was just the tonic and gave me the love for the role again. Now it’s AFL Masters with the Eastern Warriors.

I’m sure David Noble will find something to do in the AFL again pretty quickly given his experience. If he needs to discover the love of the game again he would be more than welcome at the Eastern Warriors.

Train once a week (followed by a feed), play fortnightly and spend time with blokes who laugh at your jokes. What more could you want?