‘Perhaps the worst thing I had to endure during my Hull City days was the abuse from fellow colleagues, those who we were playing against. Every so often, and in almost every game I played, I would receive a threat of physical injury or violence. It was bang out of order but the lower leagues were full of it. At first I thought it was a one-off and I had to give the player in question a gentle reminder that I wasn't some dithering old git who could hardly stand up or support himself. One occasion, I thought the lad needed reminding that I was Billy Bremner, the Billy Bremner, so I gave him a bit of knock and, sure enough, down he went like a sack of spuds, rolling about on the floor crying. I bent over him, gave him a wink and a nod of the head and offered my hand to lift him up. He declined my kind offer of help, so I stared at him and told him that if he came anywhere near me for the duration of the game I would give him something to really cry about. He apologised and carried on rolling about on the floor.
‘Another player, without any provocation whatsoever, tried to kick me into the stand, but he completely mistimed everything and did himself an injury. I nearly pissed myself laughing at him. Then there was the manager who should have known better, who informed me that he had told his players to “hurt me” before I “hurt them” – how nice and respectful was that?
‘Whenever I talked these things through with other ex-Leeds players they had similar experiences to tell. I was told it was a backhanded compliment, that they still saw me as a threat, yet I always found it alarming and unnerving, that people should automatically think about me in a violent way. I was tough, firm and always fair. If I kicked or lumped somebody, then they must have deserved it.
‘I think the highlight of my career at Hull has to be the Football League Cup game against Arsenal at Highbury in January 1978. We were woefully inadequate and no match for the Gunners, eventually losing the game 5-1. The whole atmosphere of the night took me back to my years with Leeds, as did meeting up with many football friends who had come along to watch the game solely because I was playing. It was a real honour to be told that. Oh, how we reminisced. The Arsenal game showed me how slow and ineffective I had become in midfield. I was once regarded as a terrier of a player, now I was more like a basset hound, reliable, yet slow and predictable. I feared the worst, that my days as a player who covered every blade of grass had long gone and, in fact, one hack said I had a sedentary pace. If I could ever catch him I would show him what sedentary pace really was, the cheeky bastard.
‘Gradually my legs began to ache more and more after games and training sessions. The little knocks that I had always dismissed and ignored now seemed to be very painful and took longer to heal. Whilst my mind was still that of a sixteen-year-old, my body was that of a man in his thirties. Whilst I was still fit and able to, I wanted to continue playing, but it was getting more difficult with each game.
‘One evening I got a telephone call from Don Revie. It was lovely speaking to him, and we had a long chat about the game and the respective things we were both doing at the time. I told him how I was feeling as a player, competing in Division Two having spent the majority of my career in the top flight. He reminded me that my club career in some ways mirrored his own, he had found himself slowing down at Leeds then came management, which reinvigorated him and gave him a new and fresh focus. He advised me to consider going into football management, starting in the lower leagues, making a good name and building a decent reputation for myself that way. That was just what I needed. The boss, after all those years, was still looking after me and giving me good sound advice. I took everything the boss said seriously so if he told me I would make a good manager then I believed him. The following day, unbeknown to anyone outside my family, I put the feelers out for potential management opportunities. I was honest and open about my aspirations with Hull City and talked it through with the management team there. I was pleased when they said they would support me and not stand in my way if an opportunity came along. Hull at that time was full of very decent people and I really did respect them for being so open and honest.
‘There was a whisper that a position may become available at Grimsby Town but, not knowing much about them at that time, I sought other people's opinion and was firmly put off by them. I now know that was the wrong thing to do. I had always been my own man, making my own decisions, yet here I was acting all insecure and seeking guidance from others, some of whom were in no better position than I was to know about Grimsby Town or anything about them. Since then I have tended to rely on my family and gut instinct about many matters – it doesn't often get it wrong.
‘When Doncaster Rovers were first mentioned, I got myself over to Belle Vue sharpish and introduced myself to the board of directors. I was honest and asked what their short- and long-term plans and vision for the football club consisted of. If they matched my ambition then I would be interested. I didn't have to think twice. As soon as I was inside Belle Vue my gut feeling was very positive and the directors were open about limited playing budgets, player quality, how the job would be hands-on and in many different guises, not the usual sitting behind a desk, or out on the training pitch. This included everything from writing programme notes, radio interviews, commercial activity to bring in sponsorship, community work, and visiting schools and colleges in the name of Doncaster Rovers, even helping to paint the crush barriers on the terracing. I was sold on it, I wanted the job there and then.
‘My enthusiasm waned slightly when I was told that I was not the only candidate they were interested in. I was reminded that, in the world of lower league management, Billy Bremner and other ex-players like him were nothing but a name. “Player reputation has no authority with directors here. Clubs want achievers, proven winners, ambitious people who will work twelve hours a day for seven days a week, just for a regular wage.” I wanted to be such a person and had my wish granted in November 1979, when Doncaster Rovers offered me the manager's position and I accepted.’
14
THE MANAGEMENT GAME
The first murmurings that Billy was about to take his first step into football management came to me via the Leeds United ex-players association. As an associate member, I had wanted to sort out diary dates for future functions and during a conversation I got the heads up that Billy was about to move to Doncaster Rovers to replace Stan Anderson. Coincidentally, I had interviewed Anderson just a month earlier and we had discussed his time as boss of Middlesbrough. Stan struck me as a determined and understanding man who was attempting to resurrect his managerial career at Rovers but had lost both impetus and know-how, and was struggling to provide solutions to Rovers’ inconsistent form. He was a likeable man and was clearly something of a disciplinarian, and importantly for me, he could tell a good football story. Stan also had a book of contacts that many top division managers would be envious of.
The news that he had left the club was sad, particularly as he had clearly failed with his long-term vision for Doncaster. He had moved to an assistant manager position under Ian Greaves at Bolton Wanderers. There he replaced another footballing great, George Mulhall, who had taken over as manager of Bradford City as part of the merry-go-round. The managerial jigsaw was missing one final piece, the formal announcement as to who was to be the new manager of Doncaster Rovers.
Billy was officially appointed Saturday, 25 November 1978, and I was fortunate enough to get one of the first interviews with the new Doncaster Rovers boss. The Monday following the announcement I made an early morning telephone call to Belle Vue and requested an appointment with Billy, leaving my contact details with the receptionist, who politely advised me that Mr Bremner was screening his own interviews. Within an hour my call was returned and I was told to come to the ground for 11am when Mr Bremner would see me. I always liked the Belle Vue football stadium, a typical northern English ground with its own unique identity and character. In need of a complete overhaul, it was the sort of ground where annual maintenance consisted of a lick of paint on the dugouts and perimeter wall, followed by
a thorough weeding of the terraces. It was a proper football ground and it smelled like football grounds used to – grass, Oxo and fags. For me it was a privilege to get access to the club's latest acquisition and integral part of the infrastructure – the new manager.
I waited nervously in the reception area at Belle Vue, and after a few moments Billy walked through, smiling and winking at me and holding out his hand in welcome.
‘Hello there, big man,’ he said, with the appearance of a small child being let loose for the first time in a sweetie shop. He was excited. He proceeded to introduce me to every member of the club back-office staff, describing me as the ‘best up and coming journalist in the country’. Billy was a master of motivation and put me at ease. It felt good that he was comfortable and trusting of me. Guiding me through the corridors of power within Belle Vue, we walked out onto the playing area where he took me to the dugout and immediately lit up a cigarette: ‘We can have a good chat here if you like, if you are not too cold that is?’ I wasn't about to let the weather get in the way of an interview with one of the game's greatest characters. We talked of Leeds United, his time at Hull City, and some of the personalities and incidents he encountered there, before moving onto a subject of great importance to him – what he hoped to achieve for Doncaster Rovers. It was illuminating to hear him expounding his positive commitment and enthusiasm for the challenge that awaited him at Doncaster. He looked well, and was very much talking in ‘manager speak’. I had to ask him to stop it as he was making me laugh with it all.
Billy was talking of Doncaster Rovers as though they were his be all and end all, and it was clear to me that Leeds United were now a thing of the past for him. Billy lived for the present and the future, he never liked discussing his personal success on the field and always seemed a little embarrassed by the thought that tens of thousands of football fans actively followed his career because he was their idol. What genuinely struck me at this interview was something I had never seen in him before: he was like every other working man, his ultimate aim was to provide for his family, and financial security would be of great help in achieving that. He worshipped and adored his family and always talked affectionately of the true love of his life, his wife Vicki.
I asked him about his professional ambitions. He responded with two immediate aims:
‘I want to take Doncaster Rovers as far as I can, the supporters here are first class you know, they are devoutly loyal and above all else, honest. I want to give them a team that they can be proud of. It's my first managerial position and I think I can draw upon a lot of experience from some of the greatest football managers I have worked with and know. If I do well here, then who knows what awaits, it would really suit me to one day have a crack at managing Scotland, but that's a long way off. My first goal is to get Rovers moving in the right direction, up through the leagues.’
I asked the obvious question: ‘Would you like to manage Leeds United one day?’
I knew there could only ever be one reply. His face lit up and he began to laugh: ‘For crying out loud Paul, I've only just started my job at Doncaster and f—— hell you're asking me about moving to Leeds United. Dream on, my boy.’ Then with more than a hint of seriousness he looked straight at me and said: ‘It would be a dream come true right enough, Leeds United is in the blood. That's a long way ahead though, Paul. My main objective is to get Doncaster promoted through the leagues and maybe play at the same level as Leeds.’
Tempting fate, I asked if he would base his management style upon Don Revie: ‘As a new and untested manager, I don't think I qualify to clean the boss's boots just yet, but I did learn a lot from him. No one could ever emulate him or even come close to it. Yes, I would like to make as big an impact as a manager as he did. I think I have it in me to succeed, but not all footballers make good managers; no matter how good they are as a player, management is a different game altogether. It's fine being a captain on the pitch, you can get round each and every one of your players and help them. Lead by example if you like, but in the dugout it's a different game altogether. You have to instil your will and desire into those players in the dressing room before they cross that white line and get into the game.
‘It's all about getting the players to believe in you and themselves, and transmitting desire into reality through practice. I want my players to give me everything they have got, anything less and they have me to answer to. This team are currently sitting in the wrong half of the Fourth Division and slipping backwards. We are twenty-first – that's the third worst team in the country. Third from bottom of the football league. That's a f—— awful place to be and to play your football. What I first need to do is to stop the decline, address the weaknesses and build upon the strengths, if there are any. I don't want Doncaster to finish bottom, or anywhere close to it. I need fighters, players who will give their all seven days a week to improve the team and themselves.
‘I like some of what I see, we've got Joe Laidlaw here, he is a player with vast experience, a goalscorer. I have played against him in the First Division, the flying pig they called him. Players like Joe are dependable and reliable, they know how to play the simple but effective game. I've also got Bobby Owen, he played for Manchester City and Carlisle in the First Division; Bobby knows where the goal is, and scores a few goals. What I really lack are midfield battlers who will run themselves into the ground, I need some of those. F—— Stan Anderson has left me a bit of a mess here; he had the audacity to say that the basis of a strong side is here for [a new manager] me to work with.’
My time was almost up. Billy took to his feet and beckoned me to follow him onto the pitch. We wandered silently to the centre circle where we stopped and he looked around the playing surface:
‘This used to be the biggest pitch in football, you know, I think it still could be. We are away from prying ears out here. There is plenty of room to play good football on this, not a good place for old football crocks to be. I intend to move on anyone who won't, or physically can't, give me 100 per cent. I have got some crocks here, I want to introduce young blood, local talent, players with passion and desire. I don't want a team full of has-beens – so expect transfer activity.’
As we walked off the pitch, back down the tunnel and back out into reception, I felt proud and fortunate to spend time with Billy Bremner the manager. I bid him farewell and wished him luck in his new challenge. He was still smiling, that was a good sign. As he walked me out to my car he offered an open invitation to attend any Doncaster game I liked, courtesy of him, adding: ‘Paul, you better get your f—— arse down here, to Belle Vue, on a regular basis or else. Okay?’ I assured him that I would keep one eye firmly fixed on the fortunes of Doncaster Rovers and would stay in touch.
Within weeks the Bremner football magic appeared to be having a positive impact on Rovers’ form. In his first game in charge, his side beat Rochdale 1-0 at Belle Vue – courtesy of a Bobby Owen goal. The team moved up into nineteenth position in the Fourth Division table. There were obvious signs of self-belief within the team, and in the club itself as media interest soared, primarily through interest in the new manager. The fortunes of Doncaster Rovers looked much brighter than they had done for some time.
Commercially, local industry and businesses were keen to get involved with sponsorship, many on the sole proviso that the manager would be photographed or be seen with their brand. It was a marketing dream for many businesses to have the legend that is Billy Bremner associated with their company:
‘I never really bothered about marketing and commercial aspects of football life before coming to Doncaster. Now I realise how important it is to have the Rovers brand known and out there. I suppose at Leeds it was much easier, because across the world everyone knew who we were and it sold itself. Here it's a much more hands-on affair, and if it brings positive funds and publicity into the football club then I will help in any way I can. I would love to have the time to call into every shop and business in the town, and ask them to get
behind us and what we want to achieve. Hopefully, with an improvement in publicity, form and results, they will all take note and want to get involved.’
Bremner's charges won three of their first half-dozen games under his command, conceding six and scoring eight goals during that spell:
‘We look okay up front but it's the back end, the defence, that is my real concern. It always looks shaky and nervous and vulnerable. I hold none of the blame on our goalkeeper Dennis Peacock, he is as reliable as they come at this level, better than Gary Sprake any day of the week, and we are fortunate to have him here. I need to sort it out, otherwise we are going to get a right spanking off somebody.’
An away trip to AFC Bournemouth in early February looked anything but spectacular on the fixture list but it was to become a game that Billy Bremner the manager never forgot:
‘Christ, it was horrible, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. It brought memories back of when, as part of the Leeds team we destroyed Southampton 7-0 at Elland Road and the crowd cheered our every pass. AFC Bournemouth did that to my team, they hammered us 7-1 at Dean Court. We deserved it as well.
‘That performance really hurt. Many of my players were gutless and anonymous. I am embarrassed to say that it is my team, players I picked and instructed before and during the game that let me, the fans and themselves down. Joe Laidlaw aside, I thought they were a f—— disgrace, they cheated me. How dare they think they can do that? I'll get rid of the lot of them if they do that again.
‘I shall never forget the day I first arrived at the club and met some of our supporters in the car park. In the space of a few minutes, while I signed autographs, those supporters told me what the problems were in the team set-up and our weaknesses and strengths. They have been proved to be absolutely right in their perceptions.’
Keep Fighting Page 14