Keep Fighting (6 page)

On the football side of matters, it was all change at Leeds once more, as manager Jack Taylor resigned on 13 March 1961. Just four days later he was replaced in the manager's office by a new personality.

4

ARISE SIR DON!

The new manager of Leeds United was soon revealed as Bremner's team mate, and room mate, Don Revie. It was a move which was to prove more than influential to the football career of Billy Bremner:

‘I couldn't believe it when Jack left and Don got the job. There were a lot of rumours about the new manager of course, but no one really expected Don to be given the job like that. He had a great relationship with the directors and staff, so maybe that is what swung it for him in the end; whatever, it came as a bit of a surprise. I wasn't sure how he would treat me or the rest of the boys. He had been good to me as a player but now things were going to be different, he was the boss.’

Don Revie recalled his first managerial talk with Bremner:

‘He was an impudent little sod at times and I thought he may give me a bit of trouble. Keeping all his enthusiasm in check was a full-time job. I talked to all the players and they were right behind me as manager. I told Billy that I wanted us back in the First Division and that his role in that was pivotal to the team's success. He told me he wanted to be part of that success but he still missed Scotland. I told him that he should focus on himself and Leeds United and put Scotland behind him for now. He said he would, but I didn't really believe him He was so patriotic and devoutly loyal to his family and friends up there. I was fortunate to have him at Leeds and didn't want to lose him. I realised at that early stage that it was going to be a real battle keeping him at the club.’

Bremner recalls Revie's first managerial talk with the players who were previously team mates and pals:

‘It was a bit strange, none of us knew how he would be. He had our respect as a player and a colleague but now he was the manager things had to be different. He called all the players together for a meeting, and informed us how he wanted to make us formidable opponents. That got a bit of a cheer. At some point he told us that we could no longer call him “The Don” (which was our nickname for him), or any other personal title or pseudonym. Someone piped up and asked whether we could call him Mr Revie. He didn't like the term “Mr Revie” – he thought it still had an air of informality about it! Finally he said, “I want you all to call me Boss.” He seemed embarrassed to be making the request, but as a group of players, a family almost, we were all okay with it. So Don Revie was no more, he was now the boss!’

The following season, 1961-62, saw Billy Bremner notch his highest-ever goal tally for a complete season, twelve in all competitions. His consistent and battling performances in the Leeds attack hadn't gone unnoticed, his quick feet and vision had attracted many admirers. Hibernian manager, Walter McMurray Galbraith, had heard the rumour that the player was unsettled in England, and was yearning for a return to Scotland. Hibernian, who were regarded as a very good side, made a cheeky bid of £25,000 for the player.

‘I was actually quite keen on the move north of the Border, the boss knew I wanted to go home and a move to Hibs seemed a good move to me. I was going in the right direction. The boss told me that Hibernian had formally submitted a bid for me – he looked devastated when he told me. I honestly believed that my days at Elland Road were numbered. The next day the boss had me in his office. He clearly wasn't happy one little bit about the move and told me that he wanted me to stay at Leeds. He looked at me straight in the eye and told me that I had “what it takes to make it to the top.” There was something about the way he said it that made me realise he believed what he was saying. For someone like Don Revie to say something like that to me was a real compliment. He stood looking at me, almost pleading with
me to stay. For a few seconds I wavered a little and had misgivings about wanting to leave but, for me, I was still a slip of a lad, Scotland was my home and I believed that home was where I would be happiest. With a heavy heart I had to tell him that I was interested in the move to Hibernian. He looked a broken man.’

Revie later recalled: ‘It was a dreadful situation, here we had a player who had the makings of being a top-class footballer and he didn't really know how highly his colleagues across the game regarded him. As well as that, just about every manager of the teams we played would comment on how good a player he was, and subtly ask whether he was available on transfer. I always gave a resounding “No” to that question and would have to tell them to bugger off.

‘Unfortunately, the board of directors were keen to accept the bid, it was a good fee, and the money would help the club. I was dead set against it; it filled my thoughts every day. I wanted the directors to realise how much I wanted him to stay with us, how important he was to my team-building plans. Hibernian gave a deadline for the response and the directors said they would wait for my decision before responding. I waited until the last possible moment then told them to take not a penny less than £30,000. It was a gamble, but my sources in Scotland told me that they were stretching their finances to their very limits at £25,000, so an extra £5,000 would hopefully be a bridge too far and end their interest.’

The manager was right, the transfer faltered and never progressed, the £30,000 fee terrified Hibernian and they eventually withdrew the original offer of £25,000. It was not the news Bremner had wanted to hear:

‘The boss called me in the next morning and he seemed a lot happier. He wasn't looking at me when he said it, but he told me that Hibernian wouldn't meet the club's asking price for me so, until that happened, I would remain a Leeds player. I was absolutely fuming and disappointed that the move was off.

‘As I stood there I wanted to tell him to shove Leeds United up his arse; my emotions were about to explode when he looked up
and told me to sit down. Eye contact at last. This, I thought, would be my opportunity to let him see my dissatisfaction. Instead, I began to listen to what he was saying. First, he told me that he felt it was in my best interests to see the job through at Leeds, and that he wanted success and would not settle for anything less from any of his players. I had heard that story before from different Leeds managers. This time, I have to say, I believed it. He casually added that he wanted to build the team around me, a team capable of winning and challenging for the Football League Championship and European honours. At that moment I realised that I was going to stay and help him achieve success, and would give everything to attain it myself, even though I still I yearned for Scotland!’

So began the manager-player relationship that was built on respect and was to last for a lifetime. It has been well recorded that Don Revie was so keen to keep Bremner within the ranks of his Leeds team that he drove to Stirling and personally spoke with the player's wife, Vicky. Explaining his long-term plans for the club and for her husband Billy Bremner. Whatever was said between the two appears to have worked as Billy Bremner, the footballer and person, settled into his Yorkshire surroundings and began to enjoy his new life.

The 1961-62 season was one of struggle, and much later, in 1973, it became the subject of much controversy. Then Bury manager, Bob Stokoe, made public allegations that Don Revie had tried to bribe him, with £500 for his team to ‘go easy’, before a league game on Good Friday 1962. Stokoe claimed to be incensed by Revie's cheating, and so began his professional and personal hatred for the Leeds boss that was to last his lifetime. Stokoe was to cash in on the story when he later sold his version of events to the
Daily Mirror
.

Bremner was quick to defend his manager:

‘I know the history of the whole Bob Stokoe thing. I never quite got on with him as a person or a manager, and he was a bit eccentric and very much a loose cannon. That's why he never managed at the very highest level. I crossed paths with him
many times and on each occasion he would hurl abuse towards me, calling me Don Revie's favourite son and a mini-cheat.

‘It got so bad that eventually I had to confront him at a Football League event somewhere in Park Lane, London. I was sat in the reception of the hotel talking to a couple of reporters from a football magazine. Up comes Stokoe, mad as a hatter and says to the reporters, “You want to believe nothing this cheat tells you.” Then he struts off. That was it for me. I jumped up and followed him into the gents toilets and asked him what his problem was. He turned on me again, this time his face was all gnarled up in anger, spittle flying from his mouth. He looked at me and said, “You are nothing but a little shit, Bremner, Revie's ponce, doing his dirty work. Now get out of my sight before I f—— drop you.” I laughed at his comments and replied by telling him to f—— off to see his mate Brian Clough, who curiously enough he had also accused of being a cheat. Stokoe was really angry now and I was waiting for him to thump me. Instead, the dirty bastard spat at me but thankfully he missed. I didn't. I wasn't privy to what happened between him and the boss, the boss rarely talked about Bob Stokoe, but when he did it was clear he believed him to be irrational, out of his depth and out of control. Someone else said he was an attention seeker, an underachiever as a player and destined to a life in the lower levels of the football league. I never told the boss about what had happened between me and Stokoe – he would have had a fit at me for reacting to his inane ramblings.’

The following 1962-63 season saw a marked improvement on the previous season's endeavours. A Second Division final placing of fifth was to provide the platform for greater things. For Bremner it was another season of solid performances topped with ten league goals: ‘The boss had us working as a unit, instilling self-belief in everything we did. He wanted us to be a big family, with complete trust in our fellows and team mates. Honesty and openness in debates and discussions were introduced to team talks and post-match inquests. To lighten up some of the
meetings we would introduce card games and other lighthearted family games and entertainment. It was all good fun and the lads would look forward to the team meetings.’

The 1963-64 campaign was indeed a glorious one as Leeds romped to the Second Division championship, losing just three of their forty-two league games. Elland Road became a fortress as not a single league defeat was suffered at home. For Bremner it was a consistent season; he appeared in all forty-two league fixtures and four cup games.

‘It was a great season, one of the finest,’ he recalled. ‘The boss drafted a lot of youngsters into the team and we gelled and never really looked back. We knew we had to work for each other, not only as a team, but as a club. Everyone was committed to the cause and we got to know each other's game. At times it seemed almost telepathic. There was a real understanding between us as a group; more than anything I think it was the belief that the boss was behind us with everything we did and tried.

‘As for my role in that group, it just happened, I felt comfortable in midfield, with players like Jack Charlton, Norman Hunter and Johnny Giles playing alongside me, and with the presence of Bobby Collins, I couldn't really go wrong. To say that I was an influence on that side is unfair on the rest of the lads. I was still learning my trade, we were as one, and the entire team influenced and looked after each other. I think Bobby Collins was the main inspiration of that side, he was a competitor and didn't know when to stop. What many players would view as a lost cause, he would chase, hassle and harass, intimidating the opposition into virtual submission. The younger ones in that side learned a lot from Bobby, I know I did. We all seemed to realise that we were part of something very special at Leeds.

‘I've always had fond memories of the 1963-64 season not only because of what we were achieving as a group at Leeds, but because I finally found my favourite position at wing-half or half-back or, in the modern game, midfield.

‘It was also special because I got my first of what was to be four
Scotland under-23 call-ups for a game against the “auld enemy”, England, at St James’ Park, Newcastle. It was a cold February night and it wasn't the most atmospheric of evenings, though more than a few Scots had made the journey over the border to cheer us on. We had a united belief within the Scotland team that we had the individuals who, if they could get it together on the night, could beat England. We went close to doing just that, and had it not been for the killer instinct of Everton and England centre forward Fred Pickering, we would have got at least a draw. Pickering was hard as nails, and was a real handful that night; he got himself a hat-trick. I had a good crack with him before, during and after the game. He could take a bit of stick, and he could give it too. He stood on my foot for a few moments when we were waiting for a corner to drop into the penalty area. So I pinched his arm really hard. I'll never forget it; he yelped like a dog and soon got off my foot, holding his arm like he had been wounded by a gunshot. The referee had seen the lot and was laughing at the pair of us.

‘Afterwards in the dressing room we couldn't believe we had lost 3-2 and vowed our revenge the next time we faced them. My other appearances for the Scotland under-23 team came against England (again) at Pittodrie, Aberdeen. In the England team were my Leeds pals Norman Hunter and Paul Reaney. I was working my butt off trying to keep Alan Ball in check, he was a livewire and I thought it funny that people often compared our game and style. For heaven's sake, he was English and couldn't possibly have the heart of a Scot. He was a good little player though and a right handful whenever I faced him. He had sprinting pace as a youngster and managed to turn me a couple of times, but kept away from me after I told him in no uncertain terms that he would end up in ‘row Z’ of the stands if he tried it again. The daft thing was, as soon as I said it, I heard a voice I instantly recognised, threatening to put me up there alongside him, if I tried it. When I looked round it was only Norman Hunter!