Life as a Top 14 rugby coach in France is rarely simple. Former Ireland and Lions lock Jeremy Davidson is about to start his fifth season coaching Brive and is multitasking as usual. He effortlessly switches between English and French, dealing with agents, coaches and players from his office. The day is never quite finished. When he returns from a long day of meetings and training at the club’s headquarters, his home computer awaits for analysis late into the night.
In a league filled with financial muscle that propels famous names to Toulon, Toulouse and Racing 92, Davidson has to take an innovative approach to find any advantage in a ruthless environment. He invests in facilities to unearth talented local youngsters to join the first team. Brive is a town of 45,000 people that regularly fills its 14,000-capacity stadium. The club’s coffers are shallow, but the passion for the game is endless. Last year Brive just escaped relegation and Davidson understands the town expects better from him and the team.
“This past year was really tough, it was a really hard season. There was a lot of pressure on the team. France can be such a volatile place, day-to-day in terms of rugby. If you win two games in a row you will see in the town everyone is out waving everywhere you go and people will stop you to have a chat about the team. Then, the minute you lose a home game, honestly, you don’t want to leave the house. People will turn their shoulder and ignore you.”
Davidson has maintained the size and strength of the international second row forwards who excelled on the 1997 Lions tour to South Africa. Locals in Brive have got used to seeing a huge Irishman on a road bike furiously pedalling through the picturesque streets of the town. The bike provided an element of stress relief from the day-to-day grind of last year. Davidson talks of the importance of winning at home in France. Regardless of the opposition, the fans expect victory on their turf.
“It means so much to the players and coaches here to win at home. I’m not saying that it doesn’t mean anything to win away, but it’s different. At home, you can literally see a small outside back grow taller and stronger with the crowd behind them. The biggest yardstick in France is winning at home. It dates back to olden times in French rugby when it was dog-eat-dog and you were constantly fighting for survival. The ref was just hoping to get home alive, and that 12,000 angry fans weren’t going to lynch them. Thank god it’s moved on from that brutality, but the pressure is still always there.”
In French rugby, the players and fans often talk about the importance of defending the land, or terroir. In Brive, there is a particularly strong siege mentality. It is a small town competing against physical and financial giants every week. The local cafes and bars have photos of Brive’s solitary European Cup win in 1997, and everyone wants to talk about rugby. Children grow up in the area dreaming of putting on the club’s jersey. Davidson is trying to use the passion and heritage of the town to drive its rugby club to new levels.
“At Brive, we make sure as a club we all eat together, the admin, coaching staff and players, everyone. It’s all about building that identity in what this club means and respecting our history and where we’ve come from. We’ve got emblematic players on the window so everyone can see where we’ve come from and what it means. There’s been a huge investment in young kids and the academy. We want them to be the heart and soul of the club for many years into the future.”
Davidson initially arrived in France as a player with Castres in 1998, going on to become the club’s first foreign captain. He understands the cultural hurdles that frequently need to be vaulted by new foreign players in French rugby and invests a lot of time and energy in ensuring that there is no division in his squad. In his current playing list, there are Georgians, Fijians, Irish, Algerian and even a Colombian second row.
“I’ve always tried to be thankful for every single player I’ve got here. With our Pacific Islanders players, we have a duty to give them the best pastoral care possible. They are occasions when players arrive from Fiji in France and they’re put in a house with no internet or furniture and just left there for months. They’re left to fend for themselves with no help at all. We ensure they have everything they need to perform. We’ve got people from all over the world here and we want them to be happy and welcome. We don’t want too much of one culture, or nationality. We try to involve leaders from every type of group. Our code of conduct is one where everyone buys in. Nobody is treated differently.”
Last year, Davidson’s former international team-mate Ronan O’Gara won the Heineken Champions Cup with La Rochelle. O’Gara and the team returned to the town’s harbour greeted by thousands of fans waving yellow club flags. Brive’s European glory days seem unlikely given the financial realities of the game in France today. Does Davidson ever feel envy when he looks to opposition coaches in the league who can play an element of fantasy rugby every year with their budgets?
“I’d love to have a bit more money, but I am where I am. You have to work with the hand you’re dealt. I’m very lucky to be here — a lot of coaches around the world would love this job at Brive. We’ve got a long way to go and there are things that we want to achieve. In terms of being envious of other coaches, no; I’m determined to have success with what I have. I’m a loyal club man, I played for Castres, and then I coached them. I went to Aurillac to coach and stayed there for six years. There are not many coaches who survive in France for six years, and then Top 14 for five years. I’m very proud of that record.”
Two months ago, Davidson travelled to Stratford-upon-Avon to have a reunion with his British and Irish Lions team-mates from 1997. Davidson understands the power of heritage in driving Brive to new levels in the future. His own history as a player continues to provide him with meaning. He met his former sparring partner Doddie Weir, the great Scottish secondrow, who is struggling with motor neuron disease. Weir’s continued lust for life stayed with Davidson.
“It was a low-key reunion in England organised by the guys themselves, which made it special. Doddie was at the reunion and it shocks you to see what’s happened to him. I’m telling you if he had been fit, there’s no way I would have played in the Tests. He was an incredible athlete and a wonderful personality to be around.
“Doddie was in a wheelchair but he was still drinking Guinness through a straw, which is just typical of the guy. He had brought whiskey for all of us to share with him and he was still the life and soul of the party. He was as jovial as ever. To see him now, it’s hard to swallow. It could be any one of us and it makes you realise how fragile this life is.”
Davidson won’t shut the door on an eventual return to Ireland, whether it is with a club or in a coaching role nationally, but today, his life is in Brive. The town’s streets and the market are filled with the expectation and dreams of a new season. Davidson is grounded in the reality of upsetting the odds once again in France.
