The Sharks’ Broken Machine Needs a South African Mechanic

When the Sharks confirmed that head coach John Plumtree will step down at the end of the season, moving into a more advisory capacity, it didn’t come as much of a shock to anyone paying attention. For months now, something has felt off in Durban. The body language, the results, the lack of spark, all have pointed to a franchise slowly losing its pulse.

Neil Powell’s shift to focus on other areas within the franchise only adds to the feeling that the Sharks are at a crossroads. The kind where a decision either sets them back another few seasons or finally drags them toward the success their resources, talent, and history demand.

Because right now, the Sharks are the great South African enigma. A side with everything going for them except results.

Let’s take stock: they have the largest collection of World Cup winners and Springboks in the URC, a roster dripping with pedigree. In the opening rounds of this season, they’ve fielded teams boasting as many as 17 Springboks in the matchday 23, with 13 of those starting. And yet, they lost all four of their opening matches, including one at home to Ulster and a draw to the Dragons.

That’s not just bad luck. That’s a symptom of something much deeper.

There’s a disconnect in Durban, and it runs from the touchline to the tunnel. You can see it in the lack of rhythm, the predictable patterns, and the almost robotic decision-making on the field. You can feel it in the body language of players who look frustrated, uncertain, or simply unbothered. For a team with so many winners, there’s very little of that winning energy on display.

The narrative is familiar by now: big money, big names, small results. The Sharks’ URC journey has become a cycle of hype and heartbreak. Every season begins with the same promise: "this is the year it all clicks" and every season ends with the same post-mortem: “We’ll learn from this.”

The uncomfortable truth is that the Sharks’ problems are not about personnel. They’re about identity.

This focus on foreign coaches and imported philosophies has not paid off. The modern Sharks are a patchwork, part Kiwi structure, part Springbok brute force, part marketing machine, but very little of the raw, South African bite that used to make them feared. Kings Park used to be a fortress built on physicality, pride, and uncompromising rugby. Now it feels like a glossy stage missing its soul.

The next move must be decisive. The Sharks don’t need another foreign “project coach” parachuted in to reinvent the wheel. They need a leader who understands the South African player, who knows what makes them tick, what motivates them, and how to draw that primal, relentless energy out of them.

That leader is Mzwandile Stick.

Tune into the Podcast here as Ronnie & I discuss Stick as a potential coach of the Sharks.

Stick has been at the heart of the Springbok setup for years, a quiet but vital cog in the machine that delivered back-to-back Rugby World Cups. Working alongside Rassie Erasmus and Jacques Nienaber, he has grown from a promising young coach into one of the most respected rugby minds in the country. His fingerprints are all over the Boks’ evolution; from their deadly kick-return plays to their sharpened attacking structures.

But more importantly, Stick commands respect. Players like Siya Kolisi, Eben Etzebeth, Bongi Mbonambi, and Makazole Mapimpi, all key Sharks figures, have worked under him for years. They know his voice. They trust his methods. And that’s half the battle already won.

Appointing Stick as head coach of the Sharks would be more than just a tactical decision, it would be a cultural reset. It would restore the local pride and purpose that’s been missing for too long. Imagine a Sharks side playing with Springbok-level discipline and structure, but with Durban’s flair and aggression layered on top. That’s what Stick could bring.

Of course, there are challenges. Losing Stick from the Bok setup, even partially, would sting in the short term. But this is where strategic vision comes in. The Springboks, Rassie included, need to think about succession planning. Stick has already been widely regarded as Rassie’s eventual successor. What better way to prepare him for that responsibility than by giving him a chance to run his own team, week in and week out, in one of the most demanding rugby environments in the world?

This could be the best move for everyone involved.

The Sharks get a proven winner with deep South African roots. The Springboks get a coach developing his head-coaching instincts in real time, without leaving the local system. And Stick himself gets to grow, test himself, and refine his leadership style before inevitably taking over the national side. Even better if the Sharks and Boks can work together to ensure he can be involved at both levels.

It’s the same blueprint New Zealand used for decades: groom future All Black coaches through Super Rugby. Let them fail, learn, and master their craft before stepping onto the biggest stage. Why shouldn’t South Africa follow suit?

The Sharks have the talent, the funding, and the infrastructure. What they lack is cohesion, identity, and a sense of purpose. Those aren’t things you buy, those are things you build, through leadership that players actually believe in.

Mzwandile Stick represents that.

Durban has waited too long for the Sharks to live up to their potential. They’ve been a sleeping giant for nearly a decade, lulled into comfort by big budgets and star signings. But rugby isn’t won on paper, and it’s not won by names, it’s won by belief, culture, and clarity of purpose.

Right now, the Sharks don’t just need a coach. They need a reason to believe again.

And maybe, just maybe, Stick is the man to light that fire.