In the kaleidoscopic mind of Eddie Jones, the USA's rugby players have spent a few baking days in the old battle grounds of Okinawa taking Full Metal Jacket orders from the American marines in order to prepare them for meeting England. Jones doesn't know this for sure. But he likes to imagine it.
"Well I'm guessing they might be mate," he laughs on a busy Tuesday evening in the Sheraton Bay hotel, a huge and low-lit pile on the Kobe waterfront, where the England rugby team are relaxing. Eddie had given the players some free time to recover from the exertions of their 35-3 victory over Tonga on Sunday.
“Had some Kobe beef for lunch. The afternoon off. A sharp run tomorrow.”
But Jones prefers to think of the USA players getting pumped for what is their prestige assignment against England here on Thursday, figuring that they couldn't resist the temptation of military inspiration.
"Cos Okinawa is about 80per cent marines," he says."So I'm sure they've got 'em down there. And the area they are at I know well because I've visited and there is a big marine . . . what do you call it . . . base . . . yeah . . . Okinawa used to be part of America . . . it's a great story there. In 1971 . . . they used to drive on the right hand side of the road because Americans drive on the right side. And all the economy there was in American dollars. And then, overnight it went to left side drive and Japanese yen. Most fascinating place in the world: this mixture between America and Japan."
It’s easy to gauge that Jones adores this World Cup. Here he is, back is his mother’s homeland, perfectly comfortable with slipping into Japanese to the delight of the Kobe’s locals and fronting an England effort that looks primed to make a charge when this tournament become serious.
Over the course of a singular coaching career that has brought him to the World Cup finals as head coach of Australia in 2003, where he lost to Jonny Wilkinson, and in 2007, where he won as South Africa's technical advisor, Jones has developed a reputation for being spiky and confrontational and sardonic.
He’s already had to apologise for referring to the “scummy Irish” and to Wales as a “little shit place” during a public speaking event whose content was leaked. Politically incorrect and all that, but kind of funny to imagine the outrage. He has retained a magnificent indifference to what anyone thinks and is one of the very few professional sports coaches left unafraid to speak his mind. It makes him good company, even in a crowded setting of the third floor Sheraton where the staff assembles for an evening function in a vast dining room.
Jones knows Kobe well from his years coaching at club level and then transforming the culture of Japan’s national team into a group ready to ditch all excuses for losing.
“It has probably had the most iconic rugby team,” he says of the city. “The Kobelco Steelers had a great number 10, Hirao . . . unfortunately he died.”
Predominant sport
He’s talking about Seiji Hirao, the Kyoto-raised outhalf who starred on the club team here before spending a few years in England with Richmond and leading Japan through World Cups as both player and coach. Hirao died in 2016 at the age of 53 after an illness.
“He was a beautiful player, Jones says shaking his head admiringly as he picks him out through the deluge of elite rugby players in his mind.
“I think he went to Oxford University. But the Steelers set the standard. You come to Kobe and rugby has been the predominant sport. It is not the case in most cities in Japan. It stands out – I’m sure you’ve frequented a few of the rugby bars in the town, which is unusual. Most people here are rugby fans rather than baseball fans.
“Obviously after the earthquake, Kobe has rebuilt itself and baseball has been a part of that. They won the championship last year for the first time in a while. So it’s important here.”
Jones has brought teams here before too, in more obscure seasons, revealing with a smile that he watched Japan lose by 60 odd points to the Maori All Blacks in the autumn of 2014. It’s significant because in just 12 months he would lead the same group to Japan’s transformative rugby moment in their shock win over South Africa at the 2015 World Cup.
“But there’s a story to that,” he says, inviting someone to ask him what that might be. “Well, we didn’t deliberately go out to get beaten but we deliberately played a game away from our strengths to send a message to the team about how we had to play. The next game we got beaten by one point. To reinforce the strength.”
“Did you ever to that with England?” someone asks in a voice that suggests he fears he might be raising treason.
“Yeah.” Jones says flatly and shakes his head when asked how that experiment went. “Not well. Doesn’t usually go well when you play away from your strengths. But it can be a great education.”
He was a teacher once. You can only guess that his students didn't give much lip back. Jones doesn't even pretend he's worried about England losing to the USA, despite making 10 changes for the game. Nor is he worried about the minutes that Billy Vunipola is racking up. England's battering ram number eight will make his 11th consecutive start in Kobe.
“That’s for the administrators, mate. We’ve got plenty of those.”
And he shakes his head at the idea that the newbies will have something to prove.
“Nah, that’s the danger for us,” he clarifies. “I have seen this when South Africa played Tonga and guys think it might be their only game of the World Cup. So they go out and play for themselves rather than the team. And in 2007 South Africa were lucky to beat Tonga when a number of guys played outside the team. If they play for the team they have a better chance of putting themselves in the selection mix. It’s a marathon. The World Cup is not a sprint.”
The great survivor of rugby union is back in Japan for the long haul.
