Melbourne City are in a pickle. “Unrest among fans [is] unlike anything we’ve seen in the Melbourne City era,” announced the club’s officially endorsed supporter group on Thursday. Protests are threatened for Sunday evening’s home fixture against Newcastle Jets. “Warren Joyce can sit on a cactus” wrote one disgruntled fan.
Joyce is in the crosshairs for dropping fan favourite Bruno Fornaroli. Anger is amplified by the reasons for Fornaroli’s demotion remaining unclear. Some media reports indicate the Uruguayan’s skinfolds are of concern while stories are also circulating that an aborted preseason transfer to Sydney FC has led to a breakdown in the relationship between player and club. Joyce himself has refused to address the specifics, speaking only in generalisations around standards and consistency in a bid to illustrate the maxim that no player is bigger than the club.
This is the latest in a series of bold and often unpopular decisions. Employed as a change agent, during his 17-months in charge Joyce has jettisoned other high-profile players and staff in his attempt to reset the culture of a men’s team that has meandered without clear intent or identity since inception. How he and the club address this latest challenge will define his tenure.
Winning would help, of course, but Joyce already has the highest win percentage of any Heart or City coach. In his debut season he steered City to a club record third on the A-League ladder and secured a record-equalling tally of league victories – matching the high-water mark of the Aaron Mooy-inspired 2015-16 campaign. This season City have begun with two wins and a draw from their opening five matches (three of which have been away from home), including a derby win against reigning champions Melbourne Victory. By the most basic of measures this is an unlikely crisis.
Style of play is a stick used to beat Joyce, and there is no question City are often a stodgy proposition, the perception of which is not helped by selections that betray an aversion to risk. But again Joyce perhaps warrants some slack. Last year, for example, was one of defensive recalibration and it ended with City conceding the fewest goals in their history.
After addressing the foundations it is not unreasonable to expect greater fluency going forward but Joyce has had to deal with an offseason containing the departure of Daniel Arzani, his most potent attacker, and the A-League player churn accounting for Oliver Bozanic, Stefan Mauk, Nick Fitzgerald, and Marcin Budziński from the squad that ended last year’s semi-final against Newcastle. Then on the eve of the season key recruit Michael O’Halloran was ruled out for an extended period.
These day-to-day issues are compounded by the legacy of a club that has underperformed throughout its existence and how that juxtaposes with the enormous expectations that come with being owned by the rich and powerful City Football Group. With one hand Joyce is trying to coax a club that had never finished higher than fourth into what he terms “serial winners”, while with the other cut his cloth in a salary-capped competition while his bosses bankroll one of the most ambitious and ostentatious projects in football history.
Joyce is also paying for off-field issues that predate his appointment. Attendances, for example, have long been an albatross around the club’s neck, a consequence of an identity crisis stretching into its ninth year. A process-driven gruff English figurehead is not the sexiest sell – especially when coach and club fail to communicate candidly.
Joyce and City have been reluctant to open up since day one, it’s just not how either likes to do business. But they may be faced with no choice. City need to reconnect their coach with their supporters, before it’s too late. They have to find a way for Joyce to get his point across and persuade sceptics that his agenda has long-term benefits.
During his press conference on Thursday Joyce did peel back the veneer, briefly, and it showed promise. A rare anecdote about his own playing career (a 17-year slog, spent largely in the lower reaches of English football) provided insight into his insistence on standards for all players. “I tried to maximise my talent – whatever my talent was, I tried to be the best I could be every single day as a player.”
While the same tangent began the process of addressing the perception of Joyce as a drill sergeant unable to accommodate egos. “Some of the characters that played for me at Hull City, they were rogues, robust rogues. They didn’t have a lot of technical ability but they were fantastic men, fantastic characters that put everything they had on the line for the football club.”
A mutiny among a club’s fanbase normally signals the beginning of the end for a coach. Joyce’s record safeguards him for now, but a sustainable relationship seems unlikely unless he can find a way to win over the doubters. The clock is ticking.
