Craig Brown - A Legend Has Gone From Us

CRAIG BROWN

(1 July, 1940 – 26 June, 2023)

 

BACK IN THE DAY – when I was the go-to man for Scottish sporting obituaries, one I was looking forward to writing, but, I hasten to add, in no particular hurry to actually write  – was that of Craig Brown, whose death, aged 82, was announced yesterday. He had been fighting bowel cancer.

Because Craig Brown's is a fascinating story – he truly is one of the Legends of Scottish football and well-deserving of his place among the members of the Scottish Football Hall of Fame. He also was a member of a pop group, a Scottish country dancer on television, where one of his partners was the future Mrs Billy McNeill and a Head Teacher and Education lecturer.

He was a schoolboy star while a pupil at Hamilton Academy, where Margo MacDonald, the future MP and MSP was a contemporary. Craig played for a very-good Kilmarnock Amateurs youth team before representing Scotland at Under-18 level, where his team mates included Billy McNeill, Jim Cruickshanks and Alex Ferguson. Lots of clubs were keen to sign him, but, he opted to join Rangers, as a part-timer, while he gained his teaching qualifications at Jordanhill College.

He was sent out to Coltness United in the Juniors, to gain experience, doing so well, he was capped by Junior Scotland. However, he never fulfilled his playing potential, by going on to add a senior cap.

As he admitted in his excellent autobiography, between his course at the Scottish School of Physical Education and his training with Rangers, he overdid things, and suffered a serious knee injury. At around the same time, Rangers signed Jim Baxter and while Baxter and Brown became life-long friends, between the genius of the Fifer and his ongoing knee problems, Craig Brown never did get to play in the Rangers' first-team at football – however, he was recognised as one of the best golfers at the club.

Eventually, he was loaned-out to Dundee, before Bob Shankly managed to get him to sign a permanent deal with the Dens Park club. Brown's eulogy on his Rangers career is a great example of his keen sense of humour: “I was fourth-choice left-half at Ibrox,” he joked: “behind Baxter, an amputee and a Roman Catholic.”

He moved to Dundee at the start of the 1961-62 season. His timing was great, since the 'Dee team, including the likes of Ian Ure, Alan Gilzean and Gordon Smith would finish that season as Champions of Scotland. Sadly for Craig, he struggled to break into that stellar team, although, by common consent he was mostly the 12^th man. It was at Dens Park that he received his life-long nickname of “Bleeper” - after he tried a bicycle kick in training and the ball went straight up in the air, so high, according to Scottish internationalist full-back Alex Hamilton, the ball “bleeped” like a Russian Sputnik.

Craig was actually Bob Shankly's first signing as Dundee manager, and also the last man The Other Shankly sold – to Falkirk, where he was Captain of the reserve team. This move came after Bob Shankly had decided he was getting out of Dundee and advised Craig to do likewise.

Sadly, Craig's knee problems continued to dog him and by 1967 he had to quit playing on medical advice – as a player he had played fewer than 40 games over his ten-year career.

However, after getting his PE diploma, Craig continued his education, being one of the first graduates of the Open University, where he obtained a BA in Education and, after teaching at various schools in Lanarkshire, where his father Hugh had been Special Adviser in PE, he joined the staff at Craigie College in Ayr. This brought him back to Ayrshire, where his formative years had been spent in Troon, although he was by birth, a Glaswegian.

Getting established in the education field meant Craig was all but lost to professional football – unless you count an 18 month stint as a Saturday football reporter with the Sunday Post. He did have a spell on the SFA Coaching Staff in the annual classes at Largs, but, was released after backing Eddie Turnbull, when the acting head of the course criticised one of Eddie's tactical innovations.

It was Willie, the eldest of the three McLean brothers, who got Craig back into the professional game, as his assistant at St Johnstone, then Motherwell

Ten years later, Craig would become a manager in his own right, when, in July, 1977, on the recommendation of old Scotland Schools team mate Billy McNeill, he succeeded the Celtic legend as Manager of Clyde.

Craig might not be Clyde's best-ever manager – over the years they have had some stellar names in charge. However, in his nine years as boss at Shawfield, be built-up a wonderful team spirit. His players from that time were and still are friends – while one or two, principally Steve Archibald and Pat Nevin, went on to greater things.

It could be argued, his time at Shawfield was his happiest in football, working with a small but dedicated board of directors who loved their club, indeed, they so admired Craig, he was himself appointed to the board. This gave him one of his funniest stories. According to Craig, on the Saturday after his elevation to the board was announced, as he made his way to the dug-out, a Clyde supporter suggested: “Haw Broon, see noo ye're on the board, can ye no get rid o' that useless manager o' oors.”

Craig Brown's life changed in 1986. Jock Stein had died and Alex Ferguson had been appointed caretaker Scotland boss. He invited Craig to be his assistant in what he described as: “A working holiday” for the duration of the World Cup finals in Mexico.

On his return, Craig, by now back inside the tent, was at the SFA coaching course in Largs, when Andy Roxburgh, having been offered the job of Scotland Team Manager, invited Craig to become his assistant and to look after the Under-21 team.

Craig accepted, although this meant having to give up the day job at Craigie College. Actually, he had a decision to make; at the same time, David Holmes, then in-charge of Rangers, invited him to return to Ibrox – as a director.

He was tempted, but, not yet ready to take a background role in football, so he opted for Scotland over Rangers.

The appointment of the Roxburgh/Brown team did not sit well with some of the great brains among the Scottish Football Writers of the time. They dismissed the pairing as nothing more than a couple of teachers who had perhaps been over-promoted and didn't have much to throw on the table when invited to: “Show us yer medals.”.

There was a touch of the Good Cop/Bad Cop about their approach. Roxburgh was seen as the ultra-serious driven coach, Brown much less serious, while one of his methods of integrating young players into the squad was to counsel them not to notice, far less comment on – Andy Roxburgh's non-existent wig. A wind-up, of course, but a great ice breaker.

A look at their record, however, tells a different story. Twenty years on from Craig Brown stepping down, the Roxburgh/Brown years and their record looks a lot better:

Roxburgh/Brown

• 1988 European Championships – two points off qualifying from group

• 1990 World Cup – Qualified for finals

• 1992 European Championships – Qualified for finals

• 1994 World Cup – fourth in qualifying group

Brown as Manager

• 1996 European Championships – Qualified for finals

• 1998 World Cup – Qualified for finals

• 2000 European Championships – Beaten in the qualification play-offs

• 2002 World Cup – Third in group

He was Scotland's longest-serving manager, in-charge for 71 matches, with a highly-creditable 45% winning record. These included a memorable Wembley win and beating the Germans in Germany. He guided the Under-21 team to the semi-finals of the 1992 European Championships, while he had famously coached the 1989 Under-16 team to the Junior World Cup, in Scotland, and a heart-breaking loss, on penalties, in the final at Hampden, to a Saudi Arabian team who clearly had several over-age players.

It could be argued, Craig's lengthy managerial spell with Clyde was excellent training for the Scotland job. His players were part-timers, all had day jobs and the football was an add-on – just as international football is an add-on to the club game.

Ever a football enthusiast, after Scotland, Craig Brown was quickly back in club management, at Preston North End, as a consultant at Derby County, then back in Scotland at Motherwell and Aberdeen.

After relinquishing the reins at Pittodrie, he joined the club's board, aged 73, spending the next decade as a much-respected elder statesman and ambassador of the game. He had been inducted into the Scottish Football Hall of Fame in 2010.

Off the park he was a staunch advocate for Scottish football. It says much for him that, when he announced his resignation as Scotland boss, the news was greeted with genuine sadness by the Tartan Army – they recognised him as one of their own, at heart a Scotland fan.

His brother Jock was also well-known in fitba, as a commentator and as Chief Executive at Celtic. The Browns were a talented family – Craig a teacher, Jock a qualified lawyer and the third brother Bob, a minister.

Craig Brown was a terrific talking head on football, always great value for money when called upon to appear in the media and a regular guest on Off the Ball for instance. His autobiography is a terrific read.

He worked with some great managers and coaches, Bob Shankly, Willie McLean and Alex Ferguson, while his teaching skills were well-utilised at Largs. His former players love him, as he loved them. They are devastated at his death.

Craig Brown also had something of a reputation as a Ladies Man. He loved the ladies and they loved him. I recall one widow of my acquaintance telling me: “He didnae fancy me when I was at Craigie, which has always upset me slightly, but I view it now as a chance missed – for both of us.”

He was made a Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) in 1999, I would suggest, had he been English, he would have been knighted. Today, Scotland has lost an icon of the national obsession with the Beautiful Game – his status such that his death made the main BBC Evening News, and was the lead item on the Scottish News.

Above all else, however, Craig Brown was a genuinely nice man – in every respect a Gentleman. We shall not see his likes again.

 

Big Gordon Would Have Sorted-Out Erling Haaland

HOW are we going to handle Erling Haaland? This appears to be the major question around Stevie Clarke's tactics for the upcoming big game against the Norwegians.

Of course, the Manchester City star will be a major threat, but, he's not a one-man team, the Norwegians have one or two other more than useful players, so we should not become fixated with stopping the City goal machine.

Being something of a history buff, I had a look back at how we have in the past dealt with dangerous centre forwards.

Reading the Glasgow Herald report on Scotland's 1-2 loss to Wales back in November, 1947, is a return to simpler times. The result, our fourth defeat in seven games, was mostly down to the SFA Selection Committee, who had picked seven Anglo-Scots in the team, only two of whom, according to the Herald's anonymous 'Football Correspondent' were worth their place.

The Selectors paid some heed to the advice from the Herald's man, when they met to pick the next side, to face England in April, 1948, making six personnel and one positional change – we still lost.

Any way, the Welsh centre forward that day, Trevor Ford, was known as a physical player, to the extent that he upset immediate opponent Willie Woodburn, the Scotland captain, with his “rummel 'em up” style which the Herald described as: “robust”; to the extent, Woodburn received censure from the Herald for: “retaliatory tactics near the stand touchline in the second half, which should have no place in international football.”

Knowing Woodburn's reputation, we can take it, Mr Ford knew he was in a game. Any way, fast forward 11 months and the Scots travel to Cardiff. No Woodburn, George Young has the job of marking Ford.

Legend has it, the first time Wales attacked, Ford dumped Big Corky on his back side; however, next time he tried it, Ford was sent flying into the crowd and this quietened him down considerably as Scotland cruised to a 3-1 win, their first victory over another home nation in just under ten years.

Fast forward to the 1970s where we find Martin Chivers of Tottenham Hotspur is the most-feared striker in English football. Spurs are entertaining Manchester United at White Hart Lane and United have a young and relatively-untried centre-half, one Jim Holton, set to mark Chivers.

“Let hiim know you're there early-on,” is United boss Tommy Docherty's pre-match advice to his young defender, one he gets an early chance to take. That Spurs team had a well-honed set-piece move: a Jimmy Robertson corner to the front post, where Chivers would rise and back head the ball across goal, for the late-arriving Alan Gilzean to head it home at the back post – simples.

About five minutes in, Spurs win a corner, Chivers goes front post, with Holton in tow; only, when the ball comes across, Holton simply thumps Chivers from behind, knocking him into the crowd of photographers. There is a lengthy hold-up while Chivers is brought round by the physio and as he walks back onto the pitch he tells Holton: “You're nothing but a dirty big Scots Cunt.”

“Aye, and don't you ever forget that,” was the Holton response as Chivers took himself off to play on the left wing for the remainder of the game.

Now, I know Haaland is a big laddie, but, should we not summon-up the spirit of Young and Holton to deal with him? It might be worth a go.

WE LOST Big Gordon McQueen this week. On the plus side, he is at last free from the horror of Dementia, but, like so-many, he has been taken far too soon.

 

Gordon was a class act, and from a genuine footballing family. His father had a lengthy career as a goalkeeper, while his elder brother Iain was a major figure in Junior Football, including a lengthy spell at the sharp end of administration inside Hampden.

Gordon, of course, is in the Halls of Fame of his three clubs – St Mirren, Leeds United and Manchester United. He captained Scotland, and won what was then a record 30 caps for a centre half. He went to two World Cups, but sadly never actually played on the game's biggest stage.

He had a short spell in management, while boss at Airdrie I Middlesborough, before becoming one of the better ex-player talking heads on Sky.

His final decade was blighted by illness, he fought and beat Cancer, but fell prey to Dementia. After Middlesborough he had settled in a small village in North Yorkshire, perhaps it reminded him of his native Kilbirnie, in North Ayrshire.

Gordon McQueen had a great career, the highlight probably scoring the winning goal, for Scotland against England, at Wembley, in 1977. If there is a Heaven and if what we impressionable Scots learn at our Grannie's knee – then, that towering header alone guaranteed Gordon a seat at the right hand of God.

I met him once or twice, he was always gracious, never more-so than when he dropped me a line to thank me for sending him a copy of the Paisley Daily Express, after I had, as Sports Editor, overseen the selection of the all-time St Mirren XI, with McQueen at centre-half.

To refer to the item at the top of this blog post – I am absolutely certain, Erling Haaland would not have got much change out of Gordon McQueen in a game, but, it would have been one helluva battle.

 

Back With A Couple Of Rants

WELL – that's the 2022-23 CLUB football season over. With the World Game now a 7 days per week, 52 weeks per year business, there are still internationals to be got out of the way, before the top players head off to lie on an expensive beach somewhere, for a short break, before getting back on the treadmill.

In fact, Season 2023-24 will kick-off in less than five weeks – right in the middle of The Glasgow Fair – so folks, enjoy the break, it will be a short one. This is actually the best time of year to be a Scottish Fitba Writer, particularly if you're working for a Glasgow-based national newspaper.

Because, by calling round their friends in the ranks of the football agents, The Lap Top Loyal and The Celtic Apologists, can dream-up just about any old pish and get it published, as they attempt to convince what Andy Cameron called: “The Dibs and The Dobs” that with the singular exception of Miami-bound Lionel Messi, almost every available out of contract star you could name is about to sign for one or other of Scotland's Big Two. Add this season's side show of: “Who replaces Ange?” and it is clear, these are: great times to be one of the Magic Circle of the Scottish Football Writers Association – the men who make serious comment on Scottish Fitba vanish.

As I write this nonsense, the SFWA's English cousins, in what they grandly call The FWA – THE Football Writers Association – are busy re-writing history, in the wake of Manchester City's victory over Internationale Milan in the European Cup Final.

There they are, busily hyping this historic Treble, oblivious to we Scottish Scribes, who know our history, reminding them, this was a pretty second-rate Treble, since it wasn't actually one. Sure, City have lifted three trophies this season, The Premiership, The FA Cup and The European Cup, a case of The Noisy Neighbours catching up with the local Establishment club.

Now, the FWA are busy hailing this “English Treble.” Let's look forensically at this:

• Yes, Manchester City are “An English Club” in as much as they play in English football

• But – they are owned by the Sheik of Abu Dhabi

• They have a Spanish manager

• Only two English players started for them in the European Cup Final.

• They didn't actually do an English Treble

• City won the Premiership and the FA Cup, well, to quote the great Michael Lee Aday: “Two out of three aint bad.”

• But – they didn't win a Domestic Treble, indeed, when City in 2018-19 became the first English club to do a Domestic Treble, it was barely mentioned.

The sad fact – for English football is – until City, or any other English club, can win all three domestic trophies, thereby achieving a Treble, and then add the European Cup, they will be second-raters, compared to the one British club to have achieved this: Celtic's Lisbon Lions of 1967.

Right, Rant over, back to current affairs. Good luck to the scribes as they flog their dead horses of transfer rumours. I would have (maybe) a bit more respect for them if they stopped writing what is largely fiction, and concentrated instead on the genuine and worrying concerns whereby, our two largest teams have apparently decided Scottish players are no longer good enough to play for them, while the other leading Scottish clubs, as ever keen to ape the habits of the Big Two, are also falling over themselves to sign third and fourth rate English and foreign players rather than promoting native Scottish talent.

For instance, Rangers, having finally realised Allan McGregor is past his sell-by date, have rushed to sign Jack Butland as his replacement. I am sorry, but I find myself distinctly under-whelmed by this signing.

Butland is now 30. If we accept the premise that goalkeeper's mature later than outfield players, be should now be entering his best years. When first capped by England, he was still a teenager – their youngest back stop for 65 years. He was the goalkeeper for Team GB at the 2012 London Olympics. OK he has had injury problems since then, but, given that, in 15 years as a professional footballer, he has averaged only 20 games per season and spent more time out on-loan than playing for his various host clubs and won only nine full England caps, it might fairly be said: Jack Butland has not “trained-on” and confirmed the promise he showed as a teenager. He has been handed the Number One shirt at Ibrox, which hints that he will be first-choice, which to my mind is unfair on the man in possession of the first-team goalkeeper's jersey, Robby McCrorie.

McCrorie has been with Rangers since he was a boy, growing-up in Dailly – the South Ayrshire village whose previous best-known goalkeeper resident was “The Flying Pig” – Liverpool Legend Tommy Lawrence.

He is younger than Butland, Ragners to the core and has never let his club down. He has also, already, tasted international recognition with a call-up to the full Scotland team, although he remains uncapped.

I do not think Rangers needed to sign Butland. I don't see him as being any better than McCrorie, or indeed the previously capped Jon McLaughlin. But, current fashion dictates that Rangers (and Celtic) have to buy non-Scots, so that's where we are.

I maintain the position I have held for the duration of this blog – until the other Scottish clubs grow a pair of balls between them and stand-up to the big two, Scottish Fitba is only going down the Private Frazer pathway – we are doomed.

We need to bring in Chick Young's Eight Diddies Rule – and actively promote Scottish players, or we will continue to struggle in Europe and internationally.

Second rant over.

FINALLY, looking ahead to the new season I will be particularly interested in events at Auchinleck Talbot's Beechwood Park. Legendary Manager Tucker Sloan has, after what was by Talbot standards a poor season, decided the time is right for major surgery to his squad.

Several Beechwood Legends have moved-on and Tucker, the man with the best winning record in the Scottish game, is over-seeing a major rebuild.

Ill-health has forced Brian McGinty to step down, after ending Cumnock's long wait for a third Scottish Junior Cup win, while further down the A76, at Loch Park, Ryan Stevenson is well into his Glenafton Athletic rebuild. Season 2023-24 us going to be very interesting here in the East Ayrshire heartland of Real Scottish Fitba.