Читать книгу Craig Brown - The Game of My Life - Craig Brown - Страница 13

NOBODY COULD POSSIBLY have written the script for Dundee’s first European encounter. There had been a buzz of real excitement when we heard that we had been drawn out of the hat with FC Cologne. They were a well-known side and the tie was eagerly awaited. You can imagine that as the time approached for the first leg – which was at Dens Park in September 1962 – the newspapers were carrying daily bulletins on the build-up to the big day. They were given some real gems by a gentleman called Karl Frohlich, who was the advance guard for Cologne and had been sent ahead to take a look at the hotel and training facilities. During an interview he said one or two things that could hardly be thought of as flattering towards Dundee. The newspapers loved it and their banner headlines whipped up even more frenzy for the approaching clash.

Not only did Dundee fans feel insulted by Herr Frohlich’s remarks – which he later denied making, by the way – but they also lulled Cologne into an air of complacency. He had insinuated that they only had to turn up to get through to the next round of the European Cup.

I was not playing in that game but I was in my customary place with the squad – not on the bench, of course, because substitutes were not allowed then. I did not make the eleven on the team sheet but I was involved in all the preparations as usual – just in case. The match began at a frenzied pace. Dundee, roared on by the fans, were determined to go for the jugular from the very start. The Germans were startled, so much so that after ten minutes their experienced defender, Matt Hammersbach, put the ball into his own net while under pressure.

About a minute later we scored again with one of the most incredible goals that I have ever seen. Bobby Wishart found himself in a position to have a go. He let fly but completely miskicked the ball, his foot ploughing into the turf. Instead of rocketing towards the goal, the ball merely trickled along – but Fritz Ewart, the German goalkeeper, dived in the opposite direction. Bobby had sent a large divot into the air and the goalkeeper had mistaken it for the ball. He flew in one direction and caught the turf as the ball gently rolled in at the other post. Long-term Dundee fans will remember that goal for as long as they live – as will I.

It didn’t end there either, because Hugh Robertson took advantage of the Germans’ dismay to put us 3–0 ahead with only thirteen minutes gone. Alan Gilzean and Gordon Smith both scored too, putting us 5–0 ahead when we went in for half-time. That scoreline must have sent shock waves all around Europe. Emotions were running very high indeed during the interval, and not just because of the goals. Alan Cousin and the German goalkeeper had both gone for a high ball and the Cologne man had ended up on the ground, rolling about as though he had been pole-axed. In fairness, he did go to the local hospital later for treatment to a head injury, but Alan denied that he had made any deliberate contact with Ewart. The German newspapers had other ideas, though, and a photo of Alan Cousin punching their goalie hero was splashed all over the media. It was not a fake photo but it was a misleading one. Photos taken from a different angle showed that there was no question of a punch being landed.

At the end of that first leg we had conceded a deflected goal but Andy Penman had got one for us and a brace from Alan Gilzean completed his European hat-trick. I think that we all had to rub our eyes to make sure that we hadn’t been dreaming; the final score was Dundee 8, FC Cologne 1. The Germans returned home seething. Their supporters did not not blame them – they put it all on Dundee. Even one of their officials stated that if the goalkeeper happened to be injured early on in the second leg, a complete reversal might be on the cards. We shrugged that off, even though the newspapers made something of it. On reflection, I think that we were a little naive. Prior to that second meeting, we took it that the problems over our accommodation and training facilities were simply down to language differences and our own inexperience. We never even considered that there might be something more cynical behind it.

On the night of the match things had reached boiling point in Cologne. The Dundee directors and officials were virtually ignored by their German counterparts, even down to having to find their own seats as their hosts refused to have anything to do with them. At the very least it was extremely ill mannered but, once the game was underway, we quickly learned that there was a lot more to it than that. Once again I was not in the team, but even from the side of the pitch you could see that some of the German antics were far from gentlemanly. There was kicking, punching, spitting and even scratching going on – all with the total support of about 40,000 home fans.

Cologne took the lead after Ian Ure mistimed a tackle and had a penalty awarded against him. Habig scored from the spot. A few minutes later we were two goals down when Mueller scored what was, to be fair, an excellent goal. Then, with the game 27 minutes old, our goalkeeper, Bert Slater, dived to save a low ball and Mueller came in feet first with no hope of getting the ball. Sammy Kean, our trainer, rushed on to see blood running down Bert’s face and he knew that it was serious. Andy Penman took over in goal as Bert was stretchered off, but then the real drama began as the German ambulance drivers attempted to get Bert into the ambulance – which had been parked behind the goal – and off to hospital. Bert jumped off the stretcher and went with Sammy Kean to the dressing room amid a lot of shouting and arm-waving. I like to think that this was all a coincidence, but many remembered what had been said after the first leg about the possibility of our goalkeeper being injured.

Andy Penman did his best in goal but by half-time the Cologne side were three goals ahead on the night and the overall scoreline was now 8–4. The Dundee players trooped off the pitch blazing with anger at the German team’s conduct, and it was left to Bob Shankly – even though he was obviously angry himself – to calm the situation down. Meanwhile, Lawrie Smith had managed to patch up Bert Slater and had wrapped so much bandage around his head that he looked as if he were wearing a turban.

‘I look like Lana Turner,’ joked Bert, and that managed to take some of the heat out of the mood in the dressing room. The very fact that he was returning to action also gave everyone a lift. He played on the wing for a while, just to make sure that all was well, and then went back in goal – much to the relief of Andy Penman. Later, Bert claimed that he had been a better winger than Gordon Smith – another example of the famous Slater wit!

The second half was played in much the same style as the first, but the Dundee side had grown up a lot during the interval and refused to give in to the provocation. We mounted much more pressure on the Cologne goal and came close to scoring several times. Ian Ure unfortunately scored an own goal, but that was the end of the scoring and at the end Dundee had won the tie 8–5. It was not the end of the drama, however! As the final minutes ticked away there was a vast gathering of German fans around the touchlines. Taking throw-ins was difficult to say the least, and yet the German officials assured everyone from Dundee that this was quite normal in Germany. We weren’t convinced, and our worst fears were realised when the final whistle went and the pitch was invaded. The Dundee players were marooned together in the middle of the pitch as the home fans began to swamp them. Fists began to fly and it began to look very nasty indeed until the next part of the drama unfolded – as our skipper Bobby Cox explained, ‘Above all the noise I suddenly heard a voice say: “Don’t worry about this lot – the Jocks are here!” It was like the relief of Mafeking. It seemed that every British soldier stationed within a radius of a couple of hundred miles had come to the game and, at the end, they swept on to defend us. They were all in civvies but there was no mistaking them. They fearlessly wrapped themselves around us and practically carried us off the pitch to safety.’

It was quite a scene, I can assure you, and one never to be forgotten – although it was later forgiven. Immediately after the game there should have been a banquet, but the Dundee party boycotted it. Years later the two sides met again in the UEFA Cup, and this time there was a much greater feeling of entente cordiale – and Dundee won again, 5–4 on aggregate.

Much of the ill feeling in that tie had been caused by the German press, and that was another lesson I learned. I try to be very careful in what I say and to whom I say it. One false move and you can have all sorts of problems on your hands. That doesn’t mean to say that I blame the media for all the troubles of the world, but it does mean that certain members of the journalism profession could act a little more responsibly.

I suffered an example of this early in my career as Scotland manager when I left Davie McPherson out of the squad and called in Colin Hendry. When asked for the reason for Colin’s selection, I included in a list of his attributes that he was slightly younger than Davie. Imagine my consternation the next day when, beside a large photograph of Davie McPherson, was the heading – ‘Too Old At 29!’

So, Dundee survived their first sortie into Europe with honours, and we were all looking forward to the next round. The League season wasn’t going too badly – we had a good run which kept us within four points of the leaders, Hearts. It was a fairly confident Dundee side that went to Portugal to face Sporting Club of Lisbon in the next round of the European Cup. It was an exciting game, and we had gone into it to defend, which I felt we had done quite well. Two minutes from time, Sporting scored with a controversial goal. Everyone was sure that Bert Slater had punched the ball on to the crossbar and away, but the referee decided that it had crossed the line and he awarded the goal. We didn’t protest too much because in reality the Portuguese side deserved their victory, even if it was only 1–0. We felt that the possibility of turning the game around in the second leg was well within our capabilities. As it turned out we were right. About 32,000 turned up to see the side beat Sporting 4–1, with Alan Gilzean scoring another hat-trick and Alan Cousin getting the other. The 4–2 aggregate scoreline meant that Dundee were in the quarterfinals, and suddenly everyone began to sit up and take notice.

On the League front our form had slipped a little – although a 10–2 win over Queen of the South in December helped a bit. Alan Gilzean’s seven goals in that match equalled a club record.

Unfortunately, the gap between the leaders and ourselves was beginning to widen. Anderlecht were to be our next European Cup opponents. They had beaten Real Madrid in the previous round, so the Belgians had built quite a reputation – especially with nine internationals in their side, including Paul Van Himst. The first leg was at the Heysel Stadium in front of about 60,000. They were all set to cheer their team nearer to the European Cup final, but there was a stunned silence when Alan Gilzean met a Gordon Smith cross and put us ahead after only 60 seconds. Anderlecht were rocked for a moment but soon got their act together and played some great football. However, Alan Gilzean fired in another goal on twenty minutes and, even though Anderlecht pulled one back from the penalty spot before half-time, the dressing room was buzzing during the interval. Alan Cousin added to the Belgians’ woes just after the interval but, to their credit, Anderlecht kept cool and continued to play some attractive football. The Dundee defenders held firm, with both Ian Ure and Bobby Cox clearing off the line on the rare occasions when Bert Slater was beaten. When Gordon Smith scored our fourth goal with only nineteen minutes left, the game was all but over. It is to the credit of the Belgian fans that when the final whistle went to end the game they gave the Dundee side a standing ovation.

The return match at Dens Park a fortnight later was also a classic, with almost 30,000 people packed into the ground. Anderlecht put on another great display of football and took the lead in the first half. However, after the break, it was the home side who dominated, and the pressure eventually told when Alan Cousin equalised with twelve minutes left. A few minutes later Gordon Smith hit the winner and the final scoreline was 6–2. Part of the reason why Anderlecht had conceded goals at Dens Park was because they had been following the wrong man. They knew that Alan Gilzean would be the danger and they put two men on him – which gave freedom to our other forwards. What the Belgians didn’t know was that ‘Gillie’ had gashed his foot in the first leg and had only had the six stitches removed a few hours before the return game. He had been used as a decoy and it had worked handsomely.

At the start of the season, the thought that Dundee would make it to the semifinals of the European Cup would have produced smiles from even the staunchest of supporters – and yet here we were in the last four. I was in and out of the side for League matches and I was present as one of the fourteen-man squad at every European game, home and away. Never getting on the pitch for any of those special games is something that I really regret. I do take some consolation, though, from being a part of the squad, and therefore in the dressing room and alongside the pitch at every game. It is frustrating when you are not actually playing, but it would have been much worse to have been left behind in Scotland while the side was engaged in battle in Germany, Portugal and Belgium.

Our semifinal opponents were to be AC Milan, expected to be the toughest yet of our European opposition. The first leg was away, and 78,000 fans were there in the famous San Siro Stadium. Bobby Cox was injured, and it would have been the natural choice for me to stand in for him but, unfortunately, I was injured as well, and so it was decided not to take the risk.

Dundee were a goal down after three minutes of the game starting – but they kept their heads and Alan Cousin finished some great work by Andy Penman and grabbed us an equaliser. Spirits were high in the dressing room at half-time because we felt we could contain the Italians and set up a great second leg back at Dens Park. AC Milan had other ideas, however, and soon scored two hotly disputed goals to go into a comfortable 3–1 lead. I say that the goals were controversial because there were suggestions that the ball was out of play before being crossed to Bariston who made it 2–1. As for the third goal, there was a Milan player standing in an off-side position on our goal line. The referee had given off-side but then changed his mind and awarded the goal. Milan scored again later in the game and we were disappointed to leave the pitch at the end of a 4–1 defeat.

It always sounds like sour grapes and so I try to make a point of not criticising officials or even crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done! Others, though, complained bitterly about the Spanish referee, and it does have to be said that the slightest hint of a tackle from a Dundee player did seem to bring forth an immediate whistle! Later, it was discovered that he had accepted gifts from AC Milan before the game, and he was eventually banned after some other charges of bribery, which were nothing to do with our game, had been revealed. At the end of that first leg, the Dundee players were dismayed and could not really understand how they had come to lose 4–1 to a team they considered to be inferior to the other three teams they had already encountered and beaten.

Milan were programmed to defend their lead when they came to Dens Park for the second leg, and they did it almost perfectly, although their tactics were rugged, to say the least. It was impossible to get any rhythm into the game because the Italian players continually broke it up with fouls and niggling incidents. As it was, Alan Gilzean scored just before half-time to reduce the aggregate deficit but, after having a later goal disallowed, a blatant penalty denied and a frustrated player sent off, we were forced to concede. It had been a great experience in the European Cup, and I think that Dundee had done Scotland – and indeed Britain – more than proud. I would not have missed it for the world.

Our League form suffered as a result of the pressure of the European games and in the end we finished at ninth place in the table, despite finishing quite strongly. Sadly, there would be no European football for us the following season.

Dundee Football Club was very good for me. I have already mentioned how much I admired our manager Bob Shankly, and that I learned so much from him. He was a very honest, straight Ayrshire man who had played for the famous Glenbuck Cherrypickers in the mining village of Glenbuck, where he and his brother Bill grew up with the rest of their football-mad family. Bob was also a close friend of Jock Stein, and they were all of the same mould. Bob Shankly was never one for giving out a lot of praise. He would sometimes put a hand on my shoulder before a game and say, ‘Nothing clever from you today, son!’ It might sound like a very negative way of motivating someone when all the psychologists say that positive affirmation is what is required, but we all knew what he meant and became accustomed to his special phrases. As an example, if someone said, ‘I think I’ll pass the ball inside the full-back for our winger to run on to’, Bob would say, ‘Christ, there’s nae need to get complicated!’

The lads always joked because he never ever called me Craig. He always exalted me to a deity and called me ‘Christ Craig’! Even on the rare occasions when I had a good game he would come to me after the match and say, ‘Christ Craig, that wasnae bad today, son.’ Also, if a player was being a bit bombastic in the bath, boasting about his prowess, Bob would come in and cut him dead by saying something like, ‘Will you shut up, we’ve all seen you playing!’ He had a perfect way of putting you down if you were getting too big for your boots, but he always had kind words when they were needed.

Another of Bob Shankly’s favourite sayings would be heard when a pressman asked him the team selection for the next game. Bob’s wife was named Greta, and he always gave the pressman the same answer – ‘Oor Greta hasnae picked it yet!’ It was just an amusing way of saying that he was keeping his cards close to his chest and would not reveal anything until the last possible moment before the game.

Sammy Kean was his right-hand man, coach and trainer. He was a former Hibs player and he knew his stuff all right. Between them they gave us training sessions that were long on hard work but probably a little short on imagination. There was little or no time spent on tactics. The players themselves worked those out, and some of us used to stay behind after official training to plan a few things. The senior players, particularly our right half, Bobby Seith, who had won the English League championship with Burnley, would evolve the set pieces from throw-ins and free kicks and we would practise these without supervision when the regular training had been completed. I would suggest that this was pretty unusual – not only then, but also now.

Of course, there were many light-hearted events too. One of the many other lessons I learned was never to take on a supporter in the crowd. I made that mistake playing against Celtic once. It was at Celtic Park, probably around January 1962, a cold, wet afternoon, but with the usual huge crowd. I was given the job of marking a young Celtic lad making his debut for the club. Bobby Lennox was his name, and he later went on to become one of the famous Lisbon Lions.

I was given the job of keeping him out of the game. Bob Shankly knew all about him and realised that he would be a threat. He had a saying which sounds quite chilling – ‘One from eleven is ten’. As there were no substitutes in those days, if a player was ineffective you were stuck with it for the whole game. At least, that’s what I like to think he meant! Being absolutely blunt, I had been given the job of kicking Bobby Lennox every time there was an opportunity – and to make sure that he made no real contribution to the game. You can just imagine how the Celtic supporters responded to that. I came in for a lot of stick from the home fans – and that is when I made my mistake. One fan in particular took tremendous exception to the way I was doing my job. He questioned my parentage and hurled all kinds of other abuse at me. I was aware of what he was saying about me, and so was the Dundee full-back, Alex Hamilton. He was quite a character, as well as being a great Scotland international. He came over to me and said, ‘You see that guy in the crowd? If he shouts at you again, and you get a wee chance, tell him that he’s a mug because he’s paid to get in.’ It would have been a stinging retort because Celtic were struggling against us at the time.

Sure enough, the moment came when the ball went out of play and landed in a big puddle in front of where this guy was. The ball-boy was a bit slow getting to the ball because it was in the puddle, so I just went in and retrieved it. As I did this the guy started up again, telling me what a terrible player I was, the worst he had ever seen, and this game was the worst he had ever seen. I took Alex’s tip.

‘Well, pal,’ I said, ‘you’re the mug because you paid to get in!’

Quick as a flash, he replied, ‘Aye! But you’ll be paying next season!’

It was a great answer and I felt very small indeed because I had absolutely no reply. It taught me never to try to mix verbals with the crowd, and the Dundee lads kept telling me that the guy was likely to be a prophet! It also taught me never to listen to Alex Hamilton again!

Talking about Alex Hamilton, he was the player who originated the back-handed insult that players today are often heard to repeat in jest. For instance, he called Ian Ure over once and said, ‘Well, Ian, you and I have got thirty-three Scotland caps between us – and I’ve got thirty-two of them!’ It is a much-used leg-pull between players, but it was Alex who started it. He was always joking, and not just with his teammates either. He used to love winding up the opposition, and especially enjoyed tormenting the stars of Rangers and Celtic whenever he got the chance. One of his jokes was to take a complimentary ticket and put it in his shorts. He pulled this stunt on both John Hughes, the Celtic winger, and Davy Wilson, the Rangers outside left. He waited until there was a lull in the game and would then go up to his victim with the ticket in his hand, saying, ‘Here, John, here’s a ticket for you to get into the game.’ He also used to joke with them that they ought to have paid to get in for the privilege of being a spectator watching him play!

There was quite a bit of humour at Dundee, with everyone getting his chance as well as being on the receiving end. During that 1962/63 season I was given my nickname of ‘Bleep’ or ‘Bleeper’. It originated during a game against Partick Thistle. The Jags goalkeeper, John Freebairn, sent a long, long clearance way down the pitch over all our heads and I chased after it. Because I had my back to the rest of the pitch, I decided to try a fancy overhead scissor kick as I had seen the continentals do. I completely mistimed it and, instead of the ball going back up the field, it just went straight up into the air like a rocket. It seemed to hang way up there for some time over our penalty spot, almost as if it had gone beyond our sphere of gravity. While we were all waiting for it to come down it reminded Alex Hamilton of the sound of the Russian Sputnik that was in the news at the time, and he began shouting, ‘Bleep bleep! Bleep bleep!’ That’s how I came to be given such a unique nickname.

We had another interesting excursion that season when we played against Arsenal in a testimonial match for Jack Kelsey. We played two games against them, both home and away, and I played in both matches. The Arsenal side had some very famous names – Geoff Strong, George Armstrong, Alan Skirton, George Eastham, John Barnwell and Eddie Clamp among them. We had two very good games, and it was a delight to play at a wonderful ground like Highbury. We drew there 2–2, with Alan Gilzean scoring both Dundee’s goals which, I think, led to his eventual transfer to Tottenham where he – quite rightly – became a hero.

On the eve of the Highbury game we all went to Chelsea to see them play Blackpool. Tommy Docherty was manager of Chelsea at the time, and I remember the game well. We stayed at the Mount Royal Hotel, which was in a noisy part of town but very pleasant nonetheless. It was an especially enjoyable trip because we were not there for a cut-throat competition and were therefore able to relax and enjoy the visit to London and two of the most famous grounds in the game.

It was a great honour for us to be invited to play in such a high-profile testimonial, and it shows the esteem in which Dundee was held after their European Cup and Scottish championship exploits. In 1997, Nigel Winterburn’s testimonial at Highbury produced a big crowd for the visit of Glasgow Rangers. It was a parallel with our 1962 visit. As many a Dundee fan has said in recent times: ‘Those were the days!’