The Damned Utd (37 page)

These people still want me
.

It is Sunday 21 July 1974, and your plane is late, your luggage lost. A silver
Mercedes is waiting in the rain. A small man under a big umbrella. A small
man with white hair and dark glasses. A small man with a cashmere coat and
a Cuban cigar
–

‘
Mr Clough?’ says Manny Cussins, the chairman of Leeds United AFC
Limited. ‘How do you do?
’

You shake his hand. You ask him, ‘They brought back rationing yet?
’

‘
Not in Yorkshire,’ he says
.

You follow the Leeds United chairman into the back seat of his silver
Mercedes. You accept his cigars. You accept his brandy
.

‘
Of course,’ says Cussins, ‘your chairman is still playing silly beggars
.’

You smile and raise your glass. ‘As is his right
.’

‘
Expects us both in Brighton tonight. To buy him his dinner at his own hotel
.’

‘
He’s disappointed,’ you tell him. ‘He’s losing me, isn’t he?
’

‘
Not just you either,’ says Cussins. ‘Peter Taylor too
.’

You glance at your watch and you finish your brandy
.

‘
I told him, it’s both of you or neither of you
.’

You look at your watch again. You hold out your glass
.

* * *

‘Not a penny more,’ I tell them. ‘And not a penny less.’

‘
£
25,000 for forty-four days’ work?’ shouts Bolton. ‘That’s daylight bloody robbery.’

‘That’s not all,’ I tell him. ‘I also want an agreement that Leeds United will pay my income tax for the next three years.’

‘What?’

‘Plus the Mercedes.’

‘Bugger off!’ shouts Bolton. ‘Who the bloody hell do you think you are?’

‘Brian Clough,’ I tell him. ‘Brian Howard Clough.’

* * *

Beside the seaside. You are in the toilets of the Courtlands Hotel, Hove. The
directors of two football clubs are waiting for you in the bar. Slim Whitman
singing ‘Happy Anniversary’. You have your partner. Your only friend. Your
right hand. Your shadow. You have him by his throat in the toilets of the
Courtlands Hotel, Hove
–

‘It’s not getting older, just much better …’

‘
We’ll be fine,’ he is trying to say. ‘Let’s stay put. Give it another year
.’

‘You bring me so much happiness each day …’

‘
It’s the Third Division, Pete. We only fucking won twelve games last season
.’

‘Everything you are, keeps me so in love …’

‘
But don’t forget who it was who came in for us when we were out of bloody
work, when you could have been fucking suspended. Who it was while everyone
else was hedging, not returning your calls. Who it is who’s backed us all the
way. No interference. Full support. Cash for transfers
–’

‘I thank the heavens that you came my way …’

‘
Aye, and the players you’re saddling me with down here can’t fucking play
–’

‘Let us stop and count our many blessings …’

‘
Give it time, Brian. Give it
–’

‘Because a love like ours doesn’t happen every day …’

‘
You never see them bloody play
–’

‘And year after year we’ll keep remembering …’

‘
Best hotels. New Mercedes coach for team travel. What more do you want?
’

‘Our anniversary in our special way …’

‘
The First Division, Europe; I want another crack at the European Cup
.’

‘So, darling, happy anniversary …’

‘
Another season,’ he says. ‘Just one more
.’

‘Another year of love has gone by …’

‘
The offer’s here,’ you tell him. ‘Let’s go to Leeds
.’

‘Thank you for each day you’ve given to me …’

He closes his eyes. He shakes his head. He opens his mouth
–

‘My darling, happy anniversary …’

‘
Not this time, Brian,’ says Peter. ‘This time you’re on your own
.’

* * *

They love me for what I’m not. They hate me for what I am. They love me. They hate me. In the shadow of the stands. On the steps of Elland Road. In the lights of the cameras and the spits of the rain, Manny Cussins is searching for the words, trying to find the words –

‘Mr Brian Clough and Leeds United have come to a mutually agreeable arrangement to terminate his employment effective as from tonight …What has been done is for the good of Leeds United. The club and the happiness of the players come first. Nothing can be successful unless the staff is happy …The majority of the players found it difficult to work with the new manager. They seemed to criticize the tactics, the training and so forth of Mr Clough …And there had been a little bit of discontent …But I feel we are big enough to say we can be wrong …Mr Clough has received a reasonably substantial golden handshake but both Leeds United and Mr Clough have agreed not to reveal the actual figure …It was a moral agreement which we have decided to honour … And we hope to announce the name of the new manager tomorrow.’

‘But why is he going?’ ask the press. ‘There is no answer to our question.’

‘Perhaps because we have been spoilt by Don Revie … For a new manager to come in after thirteen or fourteen years of success … It’s a very difficult act to follow …’

‘And how do you feel, Brian?’ they ask. ‘About Leeds United and Mr Cussins?’

In the shadow of the stands, on the steps of Elland Road. I love them, I hate them. In the spits of their rain and the lights of their cameras, I find the words to tell them –

‘We are all parting on the best of terms and so I am feeling very friendly towards Mr Cussins. Everything is fine but I think it is a very sad day for Leeds and also a slightly sad day for football. So everything
is a little bit sad at the moment … I do not think there was any trouble with the players. It is very important for them to get on with the job. It is important for them to win the league, the European Cup and the FA Cup. If they can do this it will be good for football … But, whatever happens in the next few weeks, Mr Cussins has been absolutely superb in my dealings with him … I have only been here seven weeks, but it seems like seven years …And I hope the guy who takes my position finds it much smoother …Two or three players have been to see me in my office today and they expressed 100 per cent support. I was not fired by the players … I feel terrible about being fired by Leeds United. But the accumulation of every single thing has caused it: injuries, suspensions, bad results, the board of directors, a couple of players and so on … But anyone who took over from Don Revie would have met resentment from the players. If they are the best team in the country, they have fallen down on this … But I still believe they got the best man to replace Revie …’

‘
How shall we live, Brian? How shall we live?
’

‘And I hope to be back in football in four or five days’ time.’

‘But have you got all you really wanted, Brian?’ they ask me.

* * *

Talks back and forth. Fuck him. Extra time. The spanner in the bloody works.
Judas. Break for dinner. You loosen your collar. Undo your tie. You make an
excuse. You take your chance. You get to the phone. You make your calls. You
spike their guns. Fuck him. Fuck them all. This is one bloody chance that’s not
going to get away. No fucking chance. Not this time. Past midnight. Six hours
back and forth. No result. Adjourn to the bar. Out of the basement. Up to the
lounge. Cussins and Bob Roberts walking up the stairs ahead of you, wringing
their hands and shaking their heads, whispering to each other about unexpected
complications, muttering about how they wanted both Clough and
Taylor, and now they’re not so sure; Revie on the radio, Revie on the telly, calling
Clough a daft bloody choice, calling for protest groups and petitions, calling
for the appointment of Johnny fucking Giles instead of you. You push past
Cussins and Roberts, past Bamber and Taylor. You take the stairs two at a time
.
Into the lounge. The press and TV waiting. Tipped off. Their cameras flash, their
microphones on
–

‘
Gentlemen,’ you tell them, ‘I’ve just been appointed manager of Leeds
United
.’

* * *

John and Bill drive me to the studios of Yorkshire TV. Of
Calendar
. For their special,
Goodbye, Mr Clough
, with Austin Mitchell, Brian Clough and tonight’s special guest, back by popular demand and as bold as the brass on the buttons of his blazer, the Don –

‘When you walked in, when you walked in, when you walked in,’ says Revie, ‘did you have a meeting on the first day with them?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I didn’t think it was necessary to have a meeting the very first day.’

‘So you were taking over as manager of a new club …’

‘Yes.’

‘And you didn’t call all your players and all your coaching staff and all your office staff together …’

‘No.’

‘And introduce yourself and meet them and tell them exactly what you feel and what you want to try and do?’

‘Go on!’ I tell him. ‘The first day I walked in I came back from my holiday and I did two hours’ training with them.’

Don Revie shakes his head. Don fiddles with them buttons on his blazer. He says, ‘But there was a lot of nervousness and apprehension among the players and the staff, and there have obviously been meetings and discussions among the players and the directors, and there must have been a very good reason to do that. I don’t condone players doing that in any club; it is totally wrong and the directors are wrong to listen to it … But I think Brian is a fool to himself. He has criticized so many people whose records stand to be seen, and I think it is totally wrong for the game of professional football.’

‘But listen, Don,’ I tell him. ‘When you’ve taken over the job of a man that’s been there for ten or fifteen years …’

‘Thirteen,’ says Don.

‘Thirteen years, thank you, and who’s been regarded as the King Pin, as the Father Figure, as the Man Who Made Everything Tick, then within seven weeks it is impossible – utterly impossible – to replace that type of thing …’

‘But why try to replace it, Brian? You talked to them about winning the Championship better or differently, but our record is there to be seen for eleven years …’

‘Yeah,’ I tell him. ‘Yeah …’

‘Right, the first four or five years, and I’ve always said this, we played for results. But the last four or five years, we’ve been the most entertaining side by crowd entertainment, and topping charts with national newspapers and television …’

‘Also, Don, the disciplinary chart. You topped that.’

‘We topped that once.’

‘Well, you topped it for the last two or three years.’

‘No, no, no. That’s not true. It wasn’t 100 per cent right, I’ll agree. It wasn’t quite right. Discipline on the field. And last year we straightened it out.’

‘It was,’ I tell him. ‘You were the top.’

‘But yeah, yeah, when you, you see, you, Brian, when you talk about coming to the Leeds job and you had all these things, these worries about stepping into my shoes and one thing and another …’

‘Which I had …’

‘Yes, you had. But why, why did you come from Brighton to Leeds to take it over when you had criticized them so much and said we should be in the Second Division for this and we should do this and we shouldn’t do that? Why? Why did you take the job?’

‘Well, because I thought it was the best job in the country.’

‘Of course it was the best job in the country.’

‘I was taking over the League Champions.’

‘Yeah, you were taking over the League Champions. You were taking over the best bunch of players you had ever seen.’

‘Well, I didn’t know about the players, Don.’

‘You didn’t know?’

‘I didn’t know them intimate like you do. But I knew you were the League Champions and I was taking over the League Champions. And I wanted to have a crack at the European Cup this year. I think it was near and dear to your heart also. I wanted to win it. I wanted to do something you hadn’t done. Now when I said, I think I said it to Trevor Cherry actually or most of the other players, he said to me, what can you do that the Boss hasn’t done? You’re the Boss, Don, he’s referring to you. I said I want to win the league, but I want to win it better. Now there is no other reply to that question because you had won the league.’

‘Yeah,’ says Don. ‘But there’s no way you could win it better.’

‘Why not?’

‘No, no, no …’

‘But that’s the only hope I’ve got …’

‘But we’d only lost four matches.’

‘Well, I can only lose three.’

‘No, no, no …’

‘I couldn’t give any other answer and I wanted to win the European Cup. Now I believe it was just a fraction, just a fraction, Don – I don’t know this because I haven’t spoken to you – but I believe it was just a fraction whether you took the England job or had another shot at the European Cup.’

‘That is totally true,’ says Don. ‘Because I was so involved with the players and everyone at Elland Road …’

‘Good lad,’ I tell him. ‘Now I wanted to do that and I wanted to do it better than you. You can understand that, can’t you?’

‘Yes. But –’

‘Thank you,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you, Don.’

The credits roll, the music plays;
I can see clearly now
.

* * *

Down the motorway, their fingers and fists, their sticks and their stones, getting smaller and smaller; John at the wheel of my new blue Mercedes, Bill opening another bottle of champagne. But the sun is not shining, rain only falling; the blue sky is black, the yellows all purple, and I’m in the back with my two feet up and their cheque for
£
25,000 in my hands –

I don’t believe in God. I don’t believe in luck. I believe in football
–

‘I’ve just come up on the pools,’ I shout. ‘The bloody pools!’