Chapter 40

Work 5 - Best Team Ever - Part Two

‘Anyone fancy a bike ride?'

‘This one’s easy!  You get to sit down all weekend!’  I announce one morning in January 2015.

‘London Bridge to Bristol Bridge.  200 km by bike.

Start Friday evening; finish Sunday evening.

Two nights camping, (Gasps of horror from some).

It’s totally flat and there’s a path all the way.’

The plan was quite straightforward and the logistics less complicated than for the Three Peaks:

Get everyone to London by train, van or car.

Cycle the River Thames path to Reading, camping overnight near Staines.

Join the Avon and Kennet Canal and follow the towpath to Bath, camping overnight somewhere near Hungerford.

Finish off riding the Bath-Bristol cycle path alongside the River Avon.

We managed a couple of practice rides during the spring.  One was a shakedown ride from the factory in Yate to the cycle track and along to Bath and back.  Most had managed to find bikes that looked up to the job, although Elena’s looks a bit flimsy, but we’d see how it went, and the 30km trip on a cold day required a cake stop to keep the spirits up.  A few weeks later I upped the ante and took them off one Sunday on a hilly 40km ride in the Cotswolds.  It was a cold, windy, sleety, sort of day and the route was too ambitious.  I cut it short to prevent a battling Lucia throwing a tantrum.

With Patrick’s help, we sorted out the logistics and I roped in Sue, Adrian and Sue B, and Jerry Wheatcroft as ride leaders and support.  Between us we did a couple of recces to key parts of the route we weren’t sure about: a start point where we could rendezvous and get kitted up; the route out of central London, and the link between the river and canal in Reading.  Gary volunteered to drive the hired van and book us all onto a couple of campsites.  We could grab a takeaway on the Friday evening and find a pub on the Saturday.

Not everyone was up for it this time and I wasn’t forcing it.  Olena was pregnant; Dorota had child-care issues and it wasn’t Mike’s thing, but Alessio and Elena were still keen to join us. I hadn’t recovered enough from my ‘dog crash’ to handle the bumping and shaking for that distance so adopted the mission controller role.

It was a July weekend and the forecast looked reasonable as the advance party left late morning to catch the train to Paddington with their bikes.  The remainder set off a bit later in the van or my car, loaded up with kit, tents and the other bikes and a few hours later we’d managed to all meet up in a little carpark near the London Eye. Patrick stayed remarkably cool when he realised that, between Gary and me, we’d somehow managed to leave his tent and overnight stuff at the factory.

A team photo and as Big Ben strikes 5pm we send them on their way, weaving like a snake through the joggers, walkers and other cyclists along the South Bank embankment, heading vaguely westwards.

Gary, Sue B and I were left on our own to fight with the rush-hour traffic, find somewhere to buy a cheap tent for Patrick, locate the campsite and set up the tents before they arrived at the overnight spot.  It took a while but we needn’t have rushed. Sue called to say they were doing okay but about half-an hour behind schedule so Gary, Sue and I found a pleasant riverside pub and sat down with our drinks in the evening sunshine to await their arrival.  Eventually, around 9pm, they rolled into view. After four hours of solid riding they’d had enough for the day and were looking for a bite to eat.  The best we could find was an appalling McDonalds, the quality so bad that I haven’t opted for a Big Mac since.

Despite the fact that the tents were assembled, it took a while for everyone to settle. The old hands immediately sorted themselves out, but the camping newbies were all housed in a six sleeper tent and inevitably mislaid head torches, phones and other kit.  Sue and I slept in the car and Gary opted for the van.

We managed to get them on their way around 6am on a glorious morning with a promise to intercept them in a couple of hours with their breakfast sandwiches.  It was barely 30km as the crow flies from the campsite to Reading where the canal towpath begins but the river continually loops north and south, virtually doubling the distance.  The cycling wasn’t technical but the bumpy path and need to avoid walkers, dogs and other riders required concentration.  As with The Three Peaks, it was a perfect way to see a part of Britain that the normal European visitor would rarely visit.  They cycled through majestic Windsor, skirting the grounds of Eton School, past the historically elegant towns of Marlow and Henley and through comfortably-affluent thatched villages like Sonning and Hurley.

By mid-afternoon, the sunshine and effort was taking a toll: sore bums, aching wrists and increasing fatigue meant that enthusiasm was waning and it was becoming more of a grind.  Elena had also somehow managed to ride off the path and slither down the riverbank into the water.  No harm done but Jerry and Adrian had to work a bit harder to keep everyone on a steady pace and it was late afternoon before Patrick managed to lead them through Reading.

The evening campsite was behind a pub near the village of Burbage but still 40km distant.  I knew we’d be ferrying the riders in cars and vans once they’d reached their limit for the day and was hoping it wouldn’t be too far a shuttle.  But by the time they’d passed Aldermaston around 7pm they’d had enough, and I don’t blame them. 120 km in the day on mountain bikes was a brilliant effort and required considerable determination to refuse the comfort of doing a section riding in the van. Sue B had found a Toby Inn restaurant offering a ‘eat-as-much-as-you-can' deal in Newbury. All twenty of us piled into one corner.  Some of them, including Sue, were so exhausted they could hardly stay awake, let alone eat their meal, and by the time we’d shipped them all to the campsite, only a hardy few actually managed a drink in the pub.

Despite the mixed forecast it was another cloudless sky that greeted the team on the Sunday morning.  We’d been joined by Jerry’s wife, Theresa, and daughter Rebecca the previous evening, and the extra car helped with the logistics of delivering them all back to Aldermaston to resume their ride.  Well, almost all of them.  Elena and Sue felt just too tired to sustain the pace that was required to reach Bristol, still 90km away, before dark and both opted to rejoin later in the morning.  Once again the support team collapsed the tents and headed off to set up the breakfast rendezvous in Hungerford.

Having paddled much of this section during my kayak racing days, I was now on familiar territory and the organisational pressure reduced as we were easily able to monitor their progress through the scenic Vale of The White Horse as the canal towpath carved its serene way under bridges, and through locks and sleepy Wiltshire villages with names such as Little Bedwyn, Wotton Rivers and Pewsey.

Sprawled on the grass by the famous flight of locks just outside of Devizes, we had a long break for a very late lunch.  By this point even Patrick had begun to believe it was possible and, with the promise of an ice cream stop at Bradford-on-Avon, they eventually dragged themselves, wincing and grimacing back onto their saddles. Elena and Sue rejoined and Gary, caught up in the spirit of the day, fully handed over van driving duties to Sue B, prevented from riding by her ongoing neck issues, and hopped on my reserve bike. With Adrian, Jerry and now Rebecca shepherding them, they headed west once again along the bumpy towpath.

An hour later, the ice-cream promise fulfilled, it was time to bid farewell to the canal and take the riverside path that followed the River Avon to Bath and then onward to Bristol.  At this point I was persuaded to get on a bike. The two Sues and Theresa were easily capable of the remaining logistical duties, so I joined the gang snaking along the riverbank, picking its way through Bath, before emerging on the oh-so-familiar stretch of the Bath-Bristol Cycle Path.  Gary’s initial burst of speed had long-since dwindled off but I was quietly impressed with the speed they were still managing to maintain.  With shadows lengthening, the little band, a zombie-peloton mindlessly churning the pedals, passed Bitton and began the final run-in through the eastern suburbs.  Mangotsfield, Staple Hill, Fishponds, and Easton didn’t quite conjure the same images as Westminster, Kew or Richmond but the impending ‘journey’s end' they signalled was welcome beyond words.

Around 8.30pm they cycled across the Bristol Bridge and around a corner to where the support team was waiting with some celebratory champagne.  For a bunch of people unused to extended endurance events, it was a remarkable achievement, and even Jerry and Adrian were weary and sore.  I remain in awe of Lucia’s refusal to stop, Elena’s blind faith, Alf’s quiet competence and Patrick’s focus on the goal.  The framework was provided by the support team and ride leaders, but the team bonds were actually further strengthened during the cold training rides not just on the weekend itself.

I’ve no idea how many people have actually completed this particular route on a bike during a weekend but I doubt it’s more than a few thousand.  Understandably, there wasn’t a huge clamour for a bike-based challenge the following year.  However, the pattern had now been established for an annual challenge, and I was happy to oblige. From my perspective, such events would still help with the ‘feel-good’ within the team, but I felt it was no longer necessary to try and influence their individual participation decisions.  I’d offer an event, try and sell it as a both a ‘weekend holiday’ opportunity and physical challenge, and extend it to a limited number of family and friends.  I chose events that were less demanding logistically and that I could run safely without calling on friends for support and that maybe only needed one shake-down training day.

Enthusiasm varied.  The non-Brits were always up for anything, although weddings, pregnancy and childcare sometimes got in the way.  Patrick, Lucia, Gary and Alf were reliable regulars, whilst the others were far more selective.  Mike had decided that looking after his knees was more of a priority.  I had no problem with any of their decisions, although sometimes wondered why it was so tricky for some of them to get ‘time-off’ from normal family commitments for the chance to spend just one weekend a year visiting the wilder parts of the UK.

There were also a few new faces.  Matt Knight had arrived as the Stores Manager in 2016, with the intention that he would replace me in due course, and Marzena was now becoming established as a key part of the team.  With a wider catch-net I was also more than happy to allow Roberta de Mastri and Eric Ciavanni, Italians on two-year contracts to hold the company’s financial reigns, to tag along.

So over the next few years I conjured up a menu of alternative offerings.

2016 - Welsh Three Three-Thousanders

This was a North Wales weekend that involved climbing the three main peaks in Snowdonia over 3000 feet.

Friday evening would be a walk up Snowdon using the familiar Pyg Track up and then a steady descent following the railway track down towards Llanberis and the bunkhouse, hopefully before it became completely dark.  Saturday would be a more challenging day, walking from the bunk house to the summit of Gldyer Fawr and then dropping down the other side to the cars left by Ogwen Lake.  For those still up for it, the Sunday option was a circular walk up and down Carnedd Llewellyn, starting where we’d planned to finish the previous day.

There was something for everyone but I doubted most were capable of making all three. We would need good weather and a good constant pace. But, as it turned out, we weren’t blessed with either.

Despite slow journeys up on the Friday afternoon, we eventually gathered everyone at the foot of the Snowdon path and virtually had the mountain to ourselves.  It was in cloudy on the summit and a long drag back down but they did well to get back to the novelty of bunkhouse accommodation for a massive chilli before crashing out.

The following morning, the cloud base was lower and not forecast to lift above the summits until mid-afternoon.  Leaving around 9.00am, I’d told them that we’d have to play it by ear and see how the things progressed during the morning.  The answer was ‘slowly.’  It’s about four hours of walking to the top, including a couple of steeper sections that take about an hour each of proper uphill effort.  Well, the first bit took nearly two hours; the group was just moving too slowly and as we’d entered the clouds it wasn’t an option to let the quicker ones push on.  By the time we reached the little lake at the foot of the next uphill section that disappeared upwards into the mist, it was time for lunch and to adopt Plan B.

I don’t think anyone dissented when I told them that, rather than go for the summit, we’d drop down the other side of the ridge through a spectacular narrow gully known as The Devil’s Kitchen and pass the beautiful Llyn Idwal en route back to the cars.  Spookily the clouds started to lift as I herded them towards the return path, revealing magnificent views of the surrounding hills but I think only one or two still fancied the no-longer-possible summit.  From 750m it was still some way distant and their minds were soon distracted by the need to concentrate on the spectacular but safe route down through the gully.  Three hours later we’d reached the cars in the valley, enjoying afternoon sunshine and stunning scenery.

Gary had booked a room in a pub for the evening and everyone deservedly chilled. The day’s objective had been missed but it had still been a demanding, rewarding walk and only the most goal-oriented would have felt short-changed.  One other thing was clear:  the Sunday objective had no chance.  I’d pointed out the route across the valley from our high point on Saturday and they could all appreciate the effort that would be required.  Knowing the pace of the group, it wasn’t worth even setting off, especially as a few were nursing sore heads.  My offer of a lower-level stroll from Capel Curig along the valley sides below the sharp crags of Tryfan was readily accepted as a fall back option.

Looking back, it seemed that the trip received a big thumbs-up, despite the setbacks, and the vast majority were certainly extended well beyond their normal weekend expectations.

2017  -  ‘How about another go at Scafell - in the daylight?’

Ever since the Three Peaks adventure in 2014, Scafell was an amusing open wound about which those who’d managed that climb continually teased those who hadn’t.

My suggestion for 2017 was a weekend in The Lakes with the sole purpose of doing the classic Scafell walk from the beautiful Langdale valley.  It’s a tough long day but all were capable and we had an option on the weather knowing we could choose either the Saturday or Sunday right until the last minute.

Take up was good and they booked themselves into the Ambleside Youth Hostel by Lake Windermere. But some of them messed up their chances. I’d emphasised the unpredictability of the weather, trying to ensure they left Sunday as an option, but again not everyone was able, or determined enough to take the whole weekend away from home.

It was a beautiful Friday sunset by the Lake and the beer flowed, but the forecast for Saturday was ominous although Sunday, again, looked perfect.  Inevitably it was chucking it down the following morning as predicted .

‘Sorry folks. There’s no way we’re going up today.  There’s a low-level walk to Grasmere and around the lake we can do.  For anyone able to book another night, it’s going to be great tomorrow.’  I was testing/tempting the carload  who were planning/needing to head back on Saturday night.

For some of them it was a second 'once-in-lifetime moment.’  Could they find a last minute child-care deal with their partners back in Bristol?  Was it even possible?  Or did they just not fancy the hassle?  Dorota couldn’t; Marzena wavered, but the others didn’t even consider it and they all eventually waved us good luck and set off early evening back down the M6.  Gambling on a one-day only chance was always a dodgy policy and I’d warned them, but there’s only so much influence I could apply, and everyone had their own circumstances, values and boundaries.

It was a cracking walk on the Sunday.  It’s a hard 10 hour day but rewardingly spectacular with a few sections across boulders and scree that came close to freaking out Lucia.  Just after lunch, we were munching sandwiches on the summit with views to Scotland to the north and Snowdonia to the south-west.  Three arduous hours later, Matt and partner Gemma, Elena and Alessio, Robbie and Lucia and I finally made it back down, joining Gary and Sue for a hugely deserved pint at the famous Dungeon Ghyll pub in Langdale.

2018  -  Pembroke coastal ramble

Now, I’d already retired, but there was still a clamour for another one!  Matt was now manager of the Department and he was happy to sign up to it.

It was pretty much the same gang who signed up for a two day stroll along the Pembrokeshire coast path that’s based around the St David’s peninsula.  There were no hills so the pressure was off and the weather was fantastic.  They stayed overnight in guest-house and we were all able to eat together in the pub garden and soak up the quaint, quirky, Celtic nature of the little town.  It’s no more than 35km of rolling walking over the two days and the mix of blue sea, beaches, wildlife, and spectacular cliffs left exactly the right impression.  It was another eye-opener for our European colleagues to some hidden parts of our country and everyone completed the walk on both days.

2019  - Exmoor day walk

Surely that was enough?   But no, there was still a demand.  The last event was now much more a ‘with friends’ and had severed any real connection with work.  Probably half the group were no longer employed at the factory.  But the veterans of previous events didn’t give up that easily, so I offered a one-day walk on Exmoor that drops down the beautiful Lyn Gorge to reach the sea at Lynmouth.

I feel like I’m now a personal guide to the best bits of the UK to the ever-present Italians and we enjoyed a mixed day of weather and ultimately made it dry and in one-piece for a celebratory cream-tea in the quaint seaside resort, nestling under the sandstone cliffs. Sue, Gary and I headed back whilst the others stayed overnight in a guesthouse to make the most of their chance to explore the north Devon coastline.

ENOUGH OF TEAM-BUILDING WEEKENDS ….

Let’s write the final page of the Greatest Team Ever.

From fragile beginnings in 2009, the cast of actors had evolved into a versatile, confident band that I could trust with just about any scenario.  We’d had our share of tragedies, comedies, romances and farces and they’d managed to rehearse, recite or improvise accordingly.  Strengths and weaknesses were compensated for by work rates and flexibility, none more so than during the crazy days of 2016 when the factory was flat-out for almost the entire year, a logistics challenge that could have broken a weaker troupe.

Held together by increasingly strong bonds of trust and often friendship, it was a pleasure to observe their dynamics and ultimately it made my life as the director almost enjoyable. (Don’t forget this is manufacturing with know-it-all Italian bosses in HQ posing tough targets and poking their noses in far too often!)

The group needed to evolve. The talented women, with increased confidence, cast around for their next roles, seeking more responsibility and better pay.  Their path was not easy and the opportunities were limited at the factory before even considering the thorny life-balance choices of childcare, family and career.  Whilst I was still there, Elena grabbed a fantastic opportunity to join GKN, and has worked her way up to a senior engineering management position, whilst Dorota transferred into Finance, steadily bringing procedural disciplines across the site whilst simultaneously raising two toddlers.

By the beginning of 2016 there was a need to confront a pending major change.  I’d alerted Carlos, Giuseppe and HR about my intention to retire in 2017 and the consensus was that we needed to recruit externally for the right person.  Gary’s desire to move on from his Stores Management job to a new challenge within the Purchasing function provided the ideal opportunity to observe the potential candidate in a stepping-stone role before confirming a step-up into my senior seat.

Matt Knight got the job: early forties with a very strong background in the same SAP manufacturing systems we used at Yate, he had spent most of his career in pharmaceutical manufacture at Estee Lauder.  His warehouse experience was exceptional, although he’d only run a small team.  He settled in quickly.  As a sportsman, sports fan and musician, he easily bonded with the guys at all levels, and his calm, friendly approach seemed to endear him to the women. By mid-2017, with Carlos and Giuseppe in agreement, I started to share strategic things with him and he started to attend the senior management meetings.  This unofficially declared him as my deputy and no doubt created speculation that I’d soon be retiring.  Would he be ready to perform in the show by the New Year 2018?

I thought so, especially as the size of the stage was planned to reduce significantly by the following summer.  Whirlpool’s grand plan was to streamline the Yate site to focus primarily on the UK and North American markets whilst leaving the bulk of the European volumes to the Polish factory, where the new design dryer range was due to be launched in the spring.   On paper it was a survival plan that should guarantee a medium term future for the factory, especially as the new design would roll across the following year with an accompanying upgrade to tools and equipment.

In theory it all fitted together: smaller product range, fewer parts, fewer suppliers, lower volumes, fewer shifts, less stock and so on, all adding up to a new smaller regional-rep theatre production rather than a grand West End showbiz extravaganza.  The staffing levels would need to be reduced but, by taking out some of the higher earners and shift premiums, we could reduce the department salary bill and protect the folks lower down the scale.

I bounced my restructure plan off Matt, Patrick and Kevin and we fiddled with a few names and roles before settling on the organisation I wanted Matt to inherit.  HR and new site Director, Rafael, agreed and in January 2018, as I walked off stage for the last time, I felt that they all had a good chance of keeping active, staying fulfilled and mutually supporting each other through the transition.

In the end it didn’t play out quite like I had intended and within two years, the team had disintegrated.  All that remained were Lucia and Kevin, battling to stop the stage from collapsing from under them.  How could this have happened?  The plan looked sound, so what went wrong?

The first phase was the easy bit.  I left and Matt replaced me.  We couldn’t recruit externally so it seemed like an appropriate moment to move Kevin from his Planner role to take on the Stores Manager position, especially as he was capable of managing the people and knew the systems.  I was also conscious that a pending re-organisation that would bring local Distribution and Warehousing under our wing would ideally place Kev, with his network of contacts, to absorb the practical aspects of these extra responsibilities when it happened.  This then allowed Lucia to move into Planning and breathe some fresh life into it, tightening up on a few things and being able to take advantage of her quick mind and Italian credentials to liaise directly with the HQ Supply Chain Planning set-up, rather than through another intermediary planner.  This was the corporate intention and was linked to the implementation of an enhanced SAP system supposedly later in the year, or 2019 at the latest. (It finally arrived in 2021).  It would also be another important step on her development programme.  The projected lower volumes meant that she didn’t need replacing on her afternoon shift production controller role.

The other easy change was a consequence of Patrick’s decision to retire. He’d more than done his bit, wanted to max out on an active lifestyle and to enjoy a comfortable pension.  Taking a deal as part of the restructure, he finished a few months later and, as planned, Julian moved into a diluted version of the New Product and Change Control role.

So, with two expensive guys off the payroll, and Lucia’s existing role not being replaced, there was a little pot of money to help smooth through the next step which would coincide with the major factory restructure announcement.  I’d foreseen that this would need a bit of careful management and warned Matt to be firm with his requirement, if HR started to waiver from the plan.  I’d also tipped Gary off to watch from the side lines and jump in to support Matt if necessary.

A bigger issue was that with lower volumes there would be no need for full time afternoon shifts which consequently meant that Mike and Piotr needed to revert to day shift hours and lose their shift premium.  The solution was to get them to work split-shifts and add to their responsibilities to justify maintaining a similar pay level and this had the bonus of continuing to help their child care set ups.  The department benefitted from coverage outside the normal day shift, because the global supply chain means coverage over a longer period is necessary, and as versatile guys they could step in as planners in either Primary or Assembly areas whenever necessary.

A win-win that was turned into a lose-lose by our HR. 

Alex, the HR manager, dealing with her first major restructure, and wallowing in self-importance, decided not to deviate from Departmental headcount theoretical targets and struggled with the concept of people working across shifts.  Her communication was lousy and the first that Mike and Piotr heard was that everyone would need to apply for day shift roles; if they couldn’t accept or afford that, then redundancy packages were available.

Matt had no chance to undo the damage before Mike, volatile as ever, had slammed in his redundancy request and fired his CV off across the local job agencies.  Piotr quickly followed and the chance for an orderly, mutually-beneficial move to enhanced roles was gone.  Even as Matt and Gary argued for a rethink and reminded them of the plan we’d agreed, Rafael, influenced by Alex, began to have doubts about their commitment and the moment was lost.  In the middle of the restructure, she had failed to recognise the role played by these two, deciding that rounded numbers on the headcount spreadsheet were more important than sorting out the fiddly details and creating precedents.  I’d have fought back strongly and like to believe won the day against a narrow-minded HR manager and a dithering Rafael.

It sent a ripple through the others, not least as rumours suggested that redundancy offers might be attractive.  Even the old guard of Larry, Paul and Julian raised their heads and paid attention to circulating stories of what was achievable with other employers beyond the factory gates.  Mike jumped first, landing a decent job with a small manufacturer on the east of Bristol, and an embarrassed Marzena, having already asked me for a reference for a position with the same place, left for a well-paid similar role at Bailey’s Caravans in Bristol.

Matt might have ridden it out if all ran smoothly through the winter, but other events were conspiring against the team. The low volumes never materialised due to a range of issues delaying the ramp-up of the Polish factory.  Suddenly Yate was told to compensate for dryer shortages across Europe only a few months after winding down the supply chain and releasing key people.  It takes months to build a supply chain back up and they were under pressure to do it in weeks.  A lack of understanding or lack of sympathy from elsewhere meant that they had precious little support and, suddenly, the team found themselves trying to put on extra shows and lift their performances with already fragmented resources and the critics were eager to point fingers anywhere to deflect blame from the real root causes elsewhere in Europe. 

At a local level, things were also drifting in the wrong direction. The enhancement to the SAP system was pushed back leaving Kev, Lucia and Matt battling to hold the creaking vintage system together whilst the rest of the European organisation adopted the latest procedures and efficiencies.  Additionally, Whirlpool were driving hard on the uniform production system they wanted to implement across all factories.  Known as WPS, it was based on lean-manufacturing concepts that had been around for decades but the Whirlpool version required incredibly prescriptive methods and behaviours and was enforced by a corporate hit-squad of consultant-auditors.  Rafal was under pressure to bring Yate up to speed but, unlike in Poland where he’d had abundant cheap labour, he only had the reduced workforce with which to work. The problem for Matt and Kev was that a key theme of the WPS process was to take a lot of the non-value-add work off the production line and pass it back up the chain to stores and suppliers. In other words, their workload increased and the guy designated to  support them through this change was back in Italy recovering from a major illness.  Any hiccup would affect production and Kev particularly was struggling to adapt himself and get his stores team to understand and embrace the new ways of working, thereby becoming an easy target for often unfair criticism.

So, having reduced the team and supply chain in accordance with the plan, the sudden surprise increase in volume, combined with an elderly computer system and the changes in manufacturing processes, the situation was deteriorating quickly into an uncomfortable mess.  Matt needed some additional graduate-level help to get through this period but Alex and Rafal were focused elsewhere.  It’s easy to say, but I’d would have created an absolute stink and refused to progress further on WPS or increase the output without additional support. Matt didn’t have my experience or credibility, and, despite Gary’s back-up, wouldn’t push hard enough and tried to muddle through on his own.

It wasn’t sustainable and, with further delays in the Polish launch, there was no immediate sign of the pressure easing. There was no real appreciation of the team’s difficulties, either onsite or at HQ, so it wasn’t an enjoyable environment.  Matt struggled to keep chins up, spending too long trying to fire-fight himself, and the team was becoming despondent and disillusioned.  Even Julian looked elsewhere and overcame his inertia and reticence to change, leaving to join Baileys in Marzena’s former role. (She had moved on to another job nearer home).  Meanwhile, in the background, Dorota had also made a brave decision and left an uncomfortable relationship with her Italian manager to join another local firm.

It didn’t end there.  Neither Lucia nor Kev were happy and when Lucia accepted a step-up into a big project leader role in Engineering, Kevin moved back into his previous Planner job.  At least Matt was allowed to recruit a junior manager externally but the pressure continued and the team disintegrated further.  Olena returned from maternity leave, didn’t like what she saw and found a good job at Rolls-Royce, whilst Piotr couldn’t see any opportunities and eventually returned to Poland.  Larry, having not made the cut again for the Stores role, decided to turn his energies towards safety and training, whilst Paul stepped more positively into a staff role and eventually ended up doing Mike’s old planning role.

Throughout 2019 the situation didn’t improve and, sadly, it all became too much for Matt.  Extended periods of stress-related absence culminated in him leaving for another job at the end of the year and Lucia was promoted into the position.  She deserved some good luck but walked straight into the Covid challenge and who knows when she’ll have the chance to start to rebuild a new team?  At least she’s still got Kev around.

And there it is; nothing lasts forever. 

My team evolved, bonded, performed and had fun throughout a difficult period for the company.  I retired, thinking they were in safe hands in a reduced pressure environment, but the opposite happened and they were hit by several huge challenges and weren’t supported properly by other parts of the business.  Most of the actors became fed up and opted to further their careers on other stages. Those remaining need to trust in their abilities and find a new script to perform to.  It had been good while it lasted but a change is sometimes a good thing and usually works out in the end.

For me, I’ll always look back with pride at the time I spent working with The Greatest Team Ever.

And the team has been resurrected in a new incarnation:  A Whats App group called ‘Coffee every now and then.’  Funnily enough, they still wait for me to call the meetings.