Tasmania’s Coaching Hunt: Opportunity Wrapped in Peril
There are problems in football, and then there are the kinds of problems every other club in the competition would quietly love to have. The Tasmania Devils’ search for a foundation senior coach sits somewhere between those two categories — a genuinely consequential decision dressed up in the flattering language of abundance.
The names circulating around the role — Nick Riewoldt has mentioned them in passing, media outlets have thrown them around liberally — include some of the most recognisable in recent coaching history. Scott Buckley. John Longmire. Ken Hinkley. It is, on the surface, a remarkable position for a club that hasn’t yet played a single game in the competition. But scratch beneath that surface and you’ll find that each candidate brings not just credentials but complications, and the Devils’ football department will need to think very carefully about which set of complications they’re most prepared to live with.
Why the Coach Matters More Here Than Anywhere Else
Let’s establish the stakes clearly. Foundation coaches carry an outsized burden in AFL history. The men who built the West Coast Eagles, the Brisbane Lions and the Greater Western Sydney Giants in their formative years didn’t just set a football culture — they set expectations, recruitment philosophies, relationships with the community, and the standards against which every successor would be measured. Get it right and you’re a legend. Get it wrong and the club spends a decade unpicking the damage.
Tasmania is different again, because the island market is unlike anything the AFL has navigated before. This isn’t a second team in a divided city. This is a standalone, proudly parochial state with decades of frustration about being treated as an afterthought by the mainland competition. The Devils’ coach will need football acumen, obviously, but they’ll also need genuine emotional intelligence — an ability to understand what this means to people who’ve been waiting a very long time.
That’s not a profile that can be found simply by googling the most premiership flags on a resume.
The Case for Experience — and Its Limits
The appeal of a Buckley, a Longmire or a Hinkley is self-evident. These are men who have sat in the chair at finals-bound clubs, who have managed dressing rooms full of big personalities, who have stared down selection meetings that went sideways, and who have — in at least two of those cases — lifted the Cup at the end of it all. Experience of that kind isn’t nothing. It’s actually quite a lot.
But experienced coaches come with complicated baggage, and not just in the emotional sense. They come with their own ideas about how football should be played, about which trade-offs are worth making, about what winning looks like. In an expansion environment, where the list will be thin by design for the first several seasons and the supporters will need to be managed through the inevitable growing pains, a coach who has only ever operated in win-or-be-sacked mode could struggle with the longer horizon that Tasmania genuinely requires.
There’s also the question of what these men want from a coaching role at this stage of their careers. Are they drawn to Tasmania because the project genuinely excites them? Or are they drawn to it because it’s the only substantial offer on the table? The Devils’ hierarchy will need to be confident they’re getting someone who is all-in, not someone who is treating this as a stepping stone back to a more prestigious posting.
The Counter-Argument: Don’t Be Too Clever
I want to be fair to the other side of this ledger, because I think there’s a real risk that the Devils talk themselves out of the obvious. Overanalyising the motives of experienced coaches and reaching for the untested option — some energetic assistant from an interstate club, a dynamic younger mind with a sparkling analytical record — could be exactly the kind of cleverness that undoes them.
The early years of an expansion club are genuinely bruising. Crowds need to stay engaged through heavy defeats. Media, inevitably, will be impatient. The AFL Commission — which, let us remember, has very real financial and political skin in the Tasmania project succeeding — will be watching the trajectory closely. In that environment, a credentialled senior coach who has been through the fire before is a significant asset. They know how to handle the media cycle. They know how to keep a young list motivated when September feels impossibly far away. They know how to have a straight conversation with the Commission when the resourcing conversations get difficult.
That is, frankly, worth paying for.
What the AFL Commission Will Be Thinking
And speaking of the Commission — it would be naive to pretend they are passive observers in this process. The Devils’ coaching appointment is, in one meaningful sense, an AFL appointment. The Commission has invested enormous political and financial capital in getting this licence over the line. They will have views, even if those views are expressed through the kind of gentle but firm pressure that doesn’t get minuted in official records.
My read — and this is pure analysis, not inside information — is that the Commission will want someone whose profile lends credibility to the project in the national media. A well-known name reduces the risk that the Devils’ early seasons become a distraction story rather than an inspiration story. Whether that pressure serves the club’s genuine best interests is a seperate question, and one the Devils board will need to work through carefuly.
The Right Process Is More Important Than the Right Name
Here’s what I keep coming back to. The names matter less than the process used to arrive at them. If the Devils’ football operation has done genuine, structured, criteria-based work on what they need from a foundation coach — taking into account the competitive timeline, the list-building strategy, the Tasmanian community dynamics, and the financial constraints that will inevitably exist in year one — then they are much more likely to make a sound decision regardless of which name they land on.
If, on the other hand, this is being driven by who’s available, who’s got the most name recognition, or who someone on the board had lunch with last month in Melbourne, then even the most impressive candidate on paper becomes a risk.
Expansion clubs in Australian football have historically been subject to enormous external pressure at exactly the moments when they need internal clarity most. The Devils would do well to remember that.
A Crow’s-Eye View of What Good Looks Like
As an Adelaide supporter, I’ve watched the Crows navigate more than a few coaching transitions with varying degrees of grace. What I’ve come to appreciate — sometimes the hard way — is that the fit between a club’s culture and a coach’s philosophy is not a soft consideration. It is, arguably, the primary consideration. A technically gifted coach who is misaligned with the environment he’s working in will eventually produce friction, and friction in football departments tends to end messily.
Tasmania deserves better than a messy start. They’ve waited long enough, and the people of that remarkable island state have earned the right to a football club that is set up properly from the beginning. The coaching decision is the single most important structural choice they’ll make before the first bounce.
Choose wisely. Take the time. And don’t let the glamour of a big name substitute for the hard thinking about whether that person is genuinely the right fit for this particular, unusual, consequential task.
The blessing and the curse of having high-quality options is that you still have to make a choice. And someone is going to have to live with it for a very long time.
