Saracens profit from Pienaar's new direction

Springbok legend engaged in remarkable experiment to transform Premiership club's long-term fortunes

The tiny handful of whiskery old rugger-buggers who supported Saracens during the amateur era will not be too disoriented by the fact that their favourite club is a razzmatazz-free zone once again – after all, the Londoners spent the first century of their existence as far away from the spotlight as it was possible to be.

It was not until 1995, rugby's year zero, that Nigel Wray started flashing his gold-plated wallet in the direction of Bramley Road. Prior to his arrival, finance was generated in time-honoured fashion: a trickle of sponsorship money here, a splash of beer money there.

Wray's millions changed everything. Almost overnight, Saracens found themselves playing at a new 22,000-seat venue before a new audience with a new team. And what a team. Michael Lynagh, Philippe Sella, Kyran Bracken... they came from near and far to participate in the Great Experiment. Francois Pienaar came too – a move so momentous that Wray unveiled the former Springbok captain at a giant entertainment complex in the middle of Leicester Square. The big names were a passport to fame, fortune and a cast-iron place among the élite of the professional game. It was, by any standards, an astonishing transformation.

Six years on, Sarries have gone quiet. They are not expected to challenge especially hard for this season's Premiership title and they are playing their European rugby in the tributary of the Parker Pen Shield rather than the broad river of the Heineken Cup. What is more, they have shed big-name internationals by the cartload: Dan Luger, Paul Wallace, Julian White, Danny Grewcock, Tony Diprose... all gone. This is not, on the face of it, Pienaar's scene. When you have been handed the World Cup by Nelson Mandela and your sporting exploits have taken on a political dimension unprecedented in rugby history, life in a backwater can seem very tame.

Scratch beneath the surface, though, and it becomes clear that another transformation is taking place, another experiment that is, in its way, every bit as remarkable as the first. And this is Pienaar's experiment, one aimed at building a sustainable Premiership future for the club he now serves as chief executive and coach. In bald terms, he has decided that current internationals – large numbers of them, at least – are more trouble than they are worth. The exodus at the end of last season was, Pienaar says, the result of a deliberate policy, thought through and implemented with considerable care.

"This time last season, we were four points clear at the top of the Premiership," the South African said this week. "Our statistics could not have been more impressive: we had the best attacking record in the country, and the best defensive one too. Then came the autumn Test programme, during which we lost two-thirds of our team to England, Scotland, Ireland and France. What should have been an asset became a recurring nightmare.

"I'm not blaming the players concerned; in fact, I feel sorry for them because of the conflicting demands on their time and energy. But from the perspective of this club, is it reasonable to lose nine or 10 players for 30 per cent of the season – players who push up the wage bill as soon as they come out of contract? I don't think so.

"It must surely be better to invest in players whose sole focus is on Saracens, and to invest also in a youth development programme that underpins your professional squad. That is our strategy now, and it will remain our strategy as long as I'm involved here.

"You need some international quality, of course; we fought hard to keep Grewcock, and we would have liked to have kept either Wallace or White. Having lost all three, it was very important that Richard Hill signed a new four-year deal in the face of huge interest from elsewhere. But we are on a cycle of reinvention now. When our young players break into Test rugby, as some of them will over the next four or five years, we will rebuild again."

Pienaar's current model has something going for it, to be sure. There are the usual stresses and strains in selection: "Richard Hill will have to travel to Bologna for this weekend's Shield game, because we do not have another fit back-row option," he explained, adding that, in light of his outstanding player's international date with the Wallabies next Saturday, he would keep him on the bench and avoid playing him if at all possible. But the youngsters – and there are an awful lot of kids in the Saracens line-up – are making progress. As things stand, the Londoners are the best performing side in the Shield, with three straight wins and a positive points difference of almost 200.

"We have a very inexperienced front row – Luke Harbut, Matthew Cairns, Sean Phillips – but they are playing older than their years," said the coach, proudly. "Injured internationals like David Flatman and Robbie Russell will have to work hard to force their way back in. The same goes at lock, where Kieran Roche is putting genuine pressure on Scott Murray, and in the back row, where we have Steve Cheesebrough and Tony Roques developing into strong Premiership performers. I'm excited about our backs, too. Adryan Winnan is 18 and far from mature in terms of physique, but he's a serious talent at full-back – so serious we're already concerned about over-playing him.

"Yes, this is a very different Saracens to the one laid before the Watford public when we first moved to Vicarage Road. I am not criticising the old approach: the Lynaghs and Sellas, the big names recruited in the mid-90s, were essential foundation stones in the construction of something new. But the dynamics of this business have changed, and I believe many of our supporters understand that change and appreciate what we are now trying to achieve. We drew around 6,000 people for last weekend's home match with Bologna, a fantastic effort given the quality of the opposition and the way our season is structured."

Ah, structure: Pienaar's pet subject. Much to the annoyance of the Old School Tie brigade, he still pushes his fancy southern hemisphere ideas at every conceivable opportunity. He has a lap-top full of fixture blueprints for a globalised game, all dated and costed; given half a chance, he will arm himself with a felt-tipped pen and illustrate his theories of "vicious circles" and "virtuous circles" on the door of his office.

His latest plan is based around a pre-season in January, a condensed Six Nations tournament beginning in February, a European campaign in the spring and a Premiership start in May, breaking off periodically for out-going summer tours and in-coming autumn tours.

Radical stuff. So radical, indeed, that the arch conservatives holding sway in the Celtic countries will do their damnedest to ensure it never comes to pass. Pienaar acknowledges the political difficulties of redrawing the oval-ball map to such a degree, but he insists that his plan makes good business sense.

"At the moment, we are asking too much of the supporters," he said. "Would a cinema ask its audience to watch the first half-hour of a movie, then shift them to another, then another, then bring them back for the remainder of the first one? We need continuity in our game, because continuity leads to crescendos – the very essence of spectator sport. We need to market this game far, far more effectively."

Is Pienaar losing patience with the northern hemisphere, then? Could it be that the man who had never seen snow until he turned up for his first game at Saracens is beginning to yearn for the warmth of the high veld? He shows no sign of wanting out. He is more fully involved in coaching than at any time since arriving in London and he has big plans for his club.

"No Heineken Cup, no limelight... this is a new situation for me," he admitted. "I played 18 cup finals in my career, and won 17 of them. I grew accustomed to being involved in the premier competitions, to performing in front of the big crowds; I was always top dog. But this is a pivotal point in Saracens' history, and I am delighted to be involved. I want to make this thing work."