The first tangible sign that Tony Popovic would be doing things his own way with the Socceroos came last week when Football Australia released details of his new coaching staff.
Alongside decorated ex-internationals Paul Okon, Hayden Foxe and Frank Juric was … a sports dietician named Julie Meek.
Nutrition is not a new thing in professional sport. It is not even a new thing for the Socceroos; during international windows, the food players eat has been the shared responsibility of the national team’s high performance and sports science unit, and long-time chef Vini Capovilla, although they’ve never been given individual diets to follow when they return to their clubs.
That may be about to change.
“The fact he’s brought in a dietician probably says something,” says former Socceroo Robbie Cornthwaite, who was Popovic’s captain at Western Sydney Wanderers in 2017-18 and rates him the best coach he played under.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants his dietitian to come up with some eating plans, and the next time the players are in camp, he wants to see some results – and I think that’ll tell him who is really committed to the cause.”
‘When I see in someone’s eyes I want to get better every day, I’ll do anything for you. But give me the wrong attitude, you’re gone for me.’
Tony Popovic in the documentary ‘Dream Big’
Nutrition is very much a Popovic thing, and it has been for ages. It was one of the tools he credits with managing his body through injuries and helping him wring every drop of potential out of himself as a player, and it has been a recurring motif of his 16-year coaching career.
Aaron Mooy was one of the first players Popovic recruited at the Wanderers when the club launched in 2012; one of the first things Popovic told him to do was to drop five kilograms. Andrew Redmayne, who signed there a few years later, lost six kilos.
There would be dozens upon dozens of players with similar experiences.
“It’s not so much like, ‘I need you to be as light as you possibly can, I need you to be skinnier,’” Cornthwaite says. “It’s more like, ‘If you play your best football, you are your fittest and strongest at this weight, and if you are not that weight, how can I rely on you to play your best?’”
It’s too early to say how this will manifest inside Camp Socceroo, since many European-based players are still arriving in Adelaide, ahead of Thursday night’s must-win World Cup qualifier against China. We’re told it’s not like Popovic is monitoring portion sizes at meal time this week in Adelaide, or hanging around the corridors of their hotel with skinfold calipers.
Then again, bacon was famously banned back in the day at the Wanderers.
Meek has been by Popovic’s side since he arrived at Perth Glory in 2018 and followed him to Melbourne Victory and now the Socceroos. She was there at training on Monday, decked out in national team gear, a fully-fledged member of staff. And she is, according to those who know best, representative of not only Popovic’s lifelong pursuit of excellence but how the broader perception of him as a hardline, hot-tempered authoritarian is not aligned with reality.
“I’ve been working in clubs where people get fat tested just to get fat tested, and their skin folds go up or vice versa, and it’s just a token or a ticked box,” says Jacob Burns, who was the director of football at the Glory when Popovic was coach, and interviewed Meek when she was hired.
“I’ve worked with coaches before where they can’t control the culture of the group, players are not living right, not eating right, and breaking down. Popa looks at it more like: ‘You’re elite professionals, and if you’re aspiring to play for the top teams in Europe and for your national team, these are the non-negotiables.
“I will give you the tools and I will support you 100 per cent to get there, and this is what I’m going to do for you: we’re going to bring in a nutritionist, bring in the best sports scientists, and design our programs and training so you can see you’re not doing it for nothing.′
“He creates that buy-in with players, so there’s no need for him or the staff to then go around and watch their every move. And he never says: ‘Don’t go out and have a drink. Don’t see your family. Don’t see your friends after a game.’ He creates an environment where they know that if they do, there’s no hiding around that. They do it all in moderation and in balance.”
Some coaches pay attention to detail. Popovic takes it to another level, obsessing over minute little things like the technique a player uses to jump, or which leg they use to block a ball, or half-steps in positioning. Like their diets, there is always a method to what can be seen as madness. “He said it in his first presser,” Cornthwaite says. “He makes players better.”
Popovic does have an intimidating aura. If Graham Arnold was more of an arm-around-the-shoulder, matesy kind of coach, then the 51-year-old is a reversion to the stricter regime of an Ange Postecoglou, in that he prefers to keep his players on the edge. Despite this approach, he still manages to draw immense dedication and focus out of them.
Some thrive under those circumstances, but many don’t.
“I personally thrived,” Cornthwaite says, “not knowing whether I was going to get praised or hammered. But he cares so much about you. He wants to win, he wants the best for you, but he’s going to challenge you to be the best player you can be.”
Not many have had the opportunity to peer behind Popovic’s tough-guy “facade”, as Burns describes it, partly because he does not court attention, has no interest in self-promotion, and always keeps his cards glued to his chest. And partly because he is careful of where he places his trust. But once you’ve got it, you’ve got it.
“His man-management skills of staff and players in particular are underestimated,” Burns says.
“There’s another side to him that people don’t recognise. He’s very measured in his approach, very calculated. Is he going to be successful? I’m putting my money behind him. It’s as simple as that, and I would be gobsmacked if people who had worked with him for a period of time that wouldn’t have the same opinion.”
The one glimpse the wider public has had of how Popovic really operates behind the scenes was in the documentary Dream Big, centred around his takeover of an ailing Victory side.
“I can’t handle poor training attitude because that leads to bad performance,” Popovic told his players in a team talk.
“You can train shit, I can accept that, and me and the staff will work hard to help you get better. When I see in someone’s eyes I want to get better every day, I’ll do anything for you. Anything: on the park, off the park, for your family, whatever your kids need, I’ll f—ing do it. But give me the wrong attitude, you’re gone for me.
“Remember, actions over words. Don’t talk about how good you want to be. Do it.”