Nash Cohen’s recent post below, is a wonderful testament to the impact of truly great leadership.
AMC Director, Floyd Steadman OBE DL, was Nash’s head of sport and rugby coach in the 90’s. Floyd’s inspirational leadership style, as a rugby player, coach, teacher and headmaster, could and should be an example to many…
Floyd Steadman OBE. A name that stayed with me for over 30 years.
He coached me at school. I didn’t realise it fully at the time, but the way he carried himself — his calm authority, his strength, his integrity — left a deep imprint on me.
Recently, I reached out to him to say thank you. To let him know that he made a difference in my life. Always the gentleman, he kindly sent me a signed copy of his book.
And the truth is, he made a difference in many lives — not just through teaching, but through leading.
Floyd Steadman was one of the first Black headmasters in a UK independent school. He captained Saracens RFC in the 1980s — again, one of the first Black players to lead a top-level English rugby side. He did so at a time when the landscape was less forgiving, and the path less welcoming.
He faced overt racism, both on and off the field. But he never bowed to it. He led with intelligence, grace, and quiet resilience. He wasn’t just a player or a teacher or a head — he was a symbol of what’s possible when you refuse to let others define your limits.
Looking back, I can now see that having someone like Floyd Steadman coaching me on the pitch — a Black man who had commanded respect in elite rugby and education — was far more impactful than I realised at the time.
He didn’t need to say much. His presence was enough.
It taught me that leadership doesn’t always shout — sometimes, it just shows up, does the job, and carries the weight so others can walk more freely.
Now, as I work with young athletes, especially from underrepresented backgrounds, I think a lot about role models. About visibility. About the power of seeing someone who looks like you in a place where you didn’t think you belonged.
Floyd did that for me.
So this post is for him — to honour his achievements, his challenges, and the quiet legacy he left in the lives of boys like me.
Thank you, sir.
