NUAFC 1968-2018

2017
Jeff also served as a board member of Waikato
United in the early 90s, though with due respect,
administration was not his forte.
But one of his nuggets, in explaining why he hadn’t
sold his raffle tickets one month, always stuck with me.
“You need two types of people on committees –
workers and thinkers” Jeff pontificated. “I’m more of a
thinker.”
Blog readers may have more personal and vivid
memories of Jeff to share, and it’s a shame it was his wish
not to have a public funeral.
But I’ll wrap up by saying his contribution to
women’s football in the Waikato is without peer, while he
has also had a profound influence on the men’s game since
1964.
He will be missed.
*Cordwainer Bull is a former Waikato United programme
columnist. His hobbies include writing about old footballers.
His favourite player was Jeff Coulshed.
“You’re not as bad as what everyone says, you’re @$%#en worse”
An obituary to Jeff Coulshed by Ragdoll
The last obituary I wrote was for
my own fledging amateur football career. It
never occurred to me that I would be
penning one for one of New Zealand
football’s great characters.
Jeff Cooolshed, was my first senior
coach and has inadvertently set the
standard for every subsequent coach that
I've had since. His trademark “straight run,
angled ball. Angled run, straight ball” rings
loudly in the ears of many players who
were fortunate to be exposed to his
football genius. Many are still scarred with
the memories of hours of stride outs.
I had Jeff as a coach for a number
of years. It was probably one of his greatest
regrets that I never progressed as a player.
He had a tendency to grab my arms to get me to shut up so
he could get his point across. To be fair, this was a
technique that he employed largely while I was in my youth.
As I grew up I learned to appreciate his pearls of
wisdom and his unique view of the game, views that I
believe were lost on subsequent football generations who
were unused to his sometimes unapologetic and
uncompromising coaching methods. He would frequently
interrupt practices, insisting on stopping play to make a
poignant coaching point. He was devoted to explaining the
principles of the game to the inexperienced.
Jeff’s after match speeches are legendary both for
their content and duration and were often preceded by a
mad rush to the bar. On one occasion, as Jeff caressed the
microphone and demanded the attention of his audience,
he proclaimed for those that weren't aware that his dad
had died. The statement was met with typically stunned
silence and muted condolences. With his head bowed and a
short pause, Jeff with comedic timing, repeated in full that
his dad died in 1973. It was characteristic of Jeff’s speeches
that became as hotly anticipated and sometimes as
competitive as the football.
While Jeff’s coaching stints are inevitably
remembered for his successes, with the 1998 Chatham cup
run at the forefront of many people's memories, I always
remember the subtle nuances that characterised his tenure
at the helm of Ngaruawahia United. Whether it was the
quick stop off at Rick’s port barrel prior to a game or his
refusal to stand in the technical area, preferring the
freedom to shout instructions from around
the park, he will remain the benchmark for
coaching in my eyes.
Jeff’s innate ability to take a piece of
chalk and a black board and turn what
should be a tactical session into something
that resembled a Jackson Pollock painting
albeit with channels. After taking on the
mantle at Wanderers he would often be
found jumping ship at Mercer and providing
his singing voice to our merry bus.
Long after he hung up his coaching
badge to enjoy the freedom of being a
somewhat neutral supporter, he would
always be willing to point out the failings of
the day's performances followed closely by
his trademark chuckle. Terry would always
provide a contrary opinion all the while questioning who’s
round it was (It was almost always inevitably Terry’s shout -
Terry started having either Jared or me keep a ledger
behind the bar).
In later years I would provide a much needed taxi
service for Jeff and Terry where I would be regaled with
stories of the glory days at Muir park. Their much rehearsed
Waldorf and Stattler routine meant for many a memorable
trip home. He would inevitably tell me to put my foot down
as he would be late home, often telling me that Judy was
waiting for him. In reality she was often out playing bridge,
a love, Jeff stated, that almost rivalled their own.
Calling for anecdotes from friends drew quite
similar results. With his trusty Everton jacket, Jeff was never
short of a quick quip or jibe. He would devote countless
hours to his hair and could always be found in possession of
a comb. A man meticulous in his appearance, he would
often push players out of the way to use the mirror. His
quick wit and charisma made for a larger than life character
that was too big for one club alone to lay claim to.
Others will recall more vivid and personal
memories of Jeff. As Cordwainer Bull has pointed out, social
media has been flooded with an outpouring of sentiment
and colourful stories. For me, my memories of the coach,
mentor and friend heavily punctuate my time spent with
the Green Machine. Memories I look back on fondly. Thank
you for your contribution to the football community Jeff. At
my count the ledger has Terry’s shout at +1 to yours.
Rest in peace Mr Coulshed.
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