by Alex Gordon
Even the great Pele had to admit he wasn’t impressed by his nation – and he went on record as saying how sorry he was for Scotland. He observed, ‘Brazil were lucky. Scotland played very well against them and were truly galvanised by the tireless Bremner. The Scots went home with four points, one more than Argentina achieved in their Group Four games where they beat Haiti, drew with Italy and lost to Poland. That’s what they call the luck of the draw.’
Danny Blanchflower, the Northern Ireland international legend who had been kicked up and down Hampden Park by a youthful and over-exuberant Law in only his second international in 1958, sympathised with the player. He lamented, ‘Denis Law was unlucky that none of the Scottish sides of his best days got far in the World Cup and he wasn’t seen around the world too much. He deserved far more recognition than he received.’
The carnival was over and, cruelly, Denis Law had been denied the opportunity to say farewell to football. That was sad. He completed his 55-game Scotland international career as a winner. He was triumphant on his debut against Wales in 1958 and, 16 years later, he was a victor again against Zaire in 1974.
There is a huge difference between style and class. You can buy style. Denis Law travelled first class all the way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
FROM WORLD CUP TO WORLD SERVICE
Denis Law hated watching football. By his own admission, he was a dreadful spectator. Surprising, then, that after hanging up his boots following the World Cup-tie against Zaire in West Germany in 1974, his next gainful piece of employment would be . . . watching football. Or commentating on and analysing it, to be more precise. Law’s new choice of work surprised many who knew him, including his former Manchester United teammate Bobby Charlton.
He pointed out, ‘One aspect of Denis that I could never understand was that he refused to be involved the moment he wasn’t playing in a match. If he was injured and had to leave the field, he would shower and go home immediately, perhaps with the outcome of the match far from decided. It was the same when substitutes were introduced; if Denis was replaced, that was the end of his afternoon. He wasn’t making any statement of anger or resentment. He was just saying that his work and interest were over. He would rather be back home. This lack of involvement if he was not on the pitch was true for even the biggest of games. When United played in the European Cup Final in 1968, Denis was in hospital having a cartilage operation. He claims to have had a few beers – and fallen asleep.’
But Denis received a wake-up call shortly after his momentous decision on the August Bank Holiday Monday in 1974 to tell Manchester City he was calling it a day. ‘I have to admit for the first few months after hanging up my boots things were not good,’ he said. ‘I was only 34, I was out of work, I had no nest egg, I hadn’t a trade or a profession and I was struggling to adjust to life without a football club.’
After almost two decades of making a living as a professional footballer, Denis Law found himself in ‘the real world’, as he called it. There is little doubt if he had been thinking commercially instead of personally, he would have found another club. Law was hardly fit only for football’s knacker’s yard. He had just finished his club season in the English top flight and had been involved in the World Cup Finals. He wouldn’t have found it difficult to land a two-year contract with a team in either Scotland or England. His name alone would have added to attendance figures everywhere. Before Tommy Docherty’s somewhat brutal intervention, Denis would have been forgiven for believing there might have been a role for him somewhere on the staff at Manchester United. Although he has often said he never had any intention of becoming a manager, he has also admitted he would have loved to have coached youngsters, preferably at Old Trafford. Pride prevented him from even attempting to earn the all-important and necessary Football League coaching badge. It was a required document back then to continue to work in football and former players took the well-worn path to Lilleshall to sit exams.
That, of course, seemed preposterous to an admittedly headstrong personality such as Law, with his wealth of experience in the game on all fronts; domestic, European and worldwide. He was in good company. Matt Busby, Jock Stein and Bill Shankly were three managers who had done quite well without their badges. They had come through a different era before a scrap of paper informed everyone that they were, in fact, ‘fit and proper’ people to manage or coach a football team. Law would later admit it was a mistake on his part not to take the course.
Law, father of five, would continue to work. ‘I knew I had to pull myself together. I had a family to feed.’ A friend, a Manchester United supporter, owned a carpet company and offered Law employment. He accepted and suddenly the reality of selling carpets for a living overtook the fantasy life of being a footballer who had earned around £200 per week at Manchester City a few months beforehand. There would be no more of the camaraderie of the dressing room. There would be no more naps in the afternoon following training. There would be no more roars from adoring fans. There would be no more spectacular goals. No more trademark salute, arm in the air, grin on the face. All gone. Instead, the alarm clock would ring at seven in the morning and usher in another ordinary working day for Law. It must have been a difficult transformation for a genuine soccer legend to undertake, but Law, with typical Aberdonian grit, made the leap across the cultural chasm. ‘Eventually, I began to enjoy it,’ he admitted. Unfortunately, the carpet company went bankrupt after a year. Law received some redundancy, but then, in 1975, he received the call he described as ‘the lifesaver’.
The BBC contacted Law and enquired if he would consider summarising football matches for radio. At first, Law did not want to take up the offer. As other observers have stated elsewhere, Law is quite shy by nature. Hard to believe when you recall that strutting matador on football fields in his heyday, but true, nevertheless. ‘I was fast learning that sometimes you have to do things you don’t particularly want to do.’ Fortunately, Law enjoyed his radio work and paid compliments to BBC reporters Peter Jones and Alan Parry who were ‘as good as gold’ and helped him settle in. Law discovered very quickly that commenting on football games for the World Service didn’t just start at kick-off and end at the final whistle. Originally, he believed he merely had to turn up, go through the motions, lend his experience to the event and go home. However, he saw his new work mates compiling vast dossiers on teams, players, managers and even referees before matches. They were well prepared; Denis, as he did during his playing days, was happy to do the business ‘off the cuff’. That changed. He realised he would have to find out more about players, even those he had performed alongside not that long ago. He said, ‘It sounds an easy job when you are sitting in front of your radio listening to commentary, but it’s not, I can assure you.’
Law decided to ‘make a fist of it’ and ironed out the early wrinkles to become an expert summariser. He admitted he was excited at the thought of people around the globe listening to him. Back then, the BBC did not pay fortunes, but it always looked good on an individual’s CV that they had worked for such a national institution. To bolster his weekly pay packet, Law accepted a job offer from his former Manchester City teammate Francis Lee, who owned a paper manufacturing company. ‘Two wages are better than one,’ reasoned Law and the role was very much like the one he had come to enjoy at the carpet business. By now, Law was actually enjoying his radio work with the World Service and recalled them taking him to some marvellous places dotted around the planet. One of the most memorable for Law, after three years’ radio work, was the 1978 World Cup Finals in Argentina. Scotland were in South America, of course, while England remained at home. Doors opened for Denis Law, as you would expect. A lot of footballers have a deep distrust, real or imagined, of the press. Some journalists earn trust, but others, looking for a sensational story, are kept at arm’s length. Law was welcomed warmly, others were watched warily. There is no doubt that Denis worked hard at his new role.
While I was doing research for this book, I came
across a photograph of Law sitting in an empty bath writing on a sheaf of notes. What was all this about? The caption didn’t really shed too much light on the matter. It stated, ‘This is the earliest early bath ever.’ Puzzled, I decided to dig a bit deeper for an explanation. Law’s hairstyle pinpointed the picture being taken around the late seventies. Could it have been one from the 1978 World Cup Finals? My good friend Fraser Elder was also in Argentina covering the Scotland games, so I asked him if he had a clue about this curious snap. ‘Oh, I remember it well,’ said Fraser, helpfully. ‘Communications from Argentina to Britain were hellish. It was just about impossible to get telephone calls through. Everything seemed so primitive over there and all sorts of obstacles were put in your way in attempting to send communiqués. Denis and I found the best point to send and receive information was in this particular bathroom in our hotel. For whatever reason, the reception was best in there. We would wire our copy to the Beeb or get calls out from this vantage point. Please don’t ask me to go into technical details, but it entailed dismantling a telephone before we could hook up and go about our business. Denis found it easier to contact Glasgow than London to deliver his daily update. Somehow, he was able to get through and get stuff taped that would be relayed to listeners. So, you had the sight of Denis sitting in the bath while I was perched on the loo. Hardly textbook stuff, but it got the job done. Maybe I shouldn’t use that particular expression in this case!’
So, Denis Law, in trying circumstances in Argentina, was, as ever, going about his work for the World Service listeners in a truly professional manner. He reminisced, ‘The 1978 tournament was definitely one of the best World Cups and I thoroughly enjoyed watching the matches.’ Not so enjoyable was witnessing Scotland losing 3-1 to Peru and drawing 1-1 with Iran. ‘Ally MacLeod picked the wrong teams for the first two games, then suddenly found the correct formula against Holland.’ Alas, once again, too little too late for the Scots with a global audience looking on. Law’s next World Cup was 1982 in Spain for Granada Television, then he was ‘transferred’ back to the BBC for the 1986 competition in Mexico. He worked for ITV at the following two World Cups, Italy (1990) and USA (1994). As he had done as a player two decades earlier, Law went out at the top. The tournament in America was his last before he hung up his microphone.
Radio work had changed rather dramatically since his early days at the World Service in 1975. The growth in the media industry had expanded beyond belief in a relatively short space of time. SKY piled money into football and suddenly there appeared to be live games every night of the week. The BBC, ITV and other channels had to keep up with the lavish spending of their satellite rivals. Previously, they had been content to tape games and broadcast them on a Saturday night. It was the same story for Wednesday night fixtures. There would be the rare live match, an international, a Cup Final or a big European tie, but, in the main, it was all stuff edited in the studio. The demands on Denis Law now meant he was spending too much time on the road and away from the family, arriving home late as games were being played at all sorts of kick-off times up and down the country. It wasn’t merely a Saturday and Wednesday outing any more. Law said, ‘To be honest, I just got fed up with all the travelling.’
Law admitted his lasting regret is quitting the playing side too early – ‘you’re a long time retired’ – and not taking the coaching course that would have kept him in the world of football in some sort of capacity. ‘I’m sure I would have had something to offer.’
Undoubtedly, the sport would have been all the richer for his presence.
Chapter Twenty-Three
DENIS LAW AT SIXTY
With all the ease of a very fit teenager, Denis Law nonchalantly swings his feet up on the bench in front of him. He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt, open at the neck, a dark grey suit and black loafers. He looks relaxed and fairly happy with life. In a couple of days’ time he will be celebrating a landmark birthday. I interviewed him as 24 February 2000 dawned. Here is the discussion in full as it appeared in the Daily Express on that date.
Denis Law, Scotland’s favourite footballing son, celebrates his 60th birthday today. It’s an anniversary the shock-haired legend admits took him by surprise. ‘Sixty,’ he laughs, ‘I just can’t believe it.
‘My God, I’m ancient. That really is old, man. When I was growing up I thought people at that age were right out of it. Thankfully, I’m feeling good. There’s the usual aches and pains, but I get around okay. I just wish I could pull on the boots again – maybe I was born a couple of decades too early.’
Law looks at players who wouldn’t have been fit to lace his boots in today’s game earning fortunes, but he stresses he has absolutely no regrets.
‘None whatsoever,’ he says emphatically. ‘The boys today must believe their birthdays have all come at once. Back in my day, though, there were comparisons with Stanley Matthews and Tom Finney. They had earned around £14 to £15 and I was picking up something like £100-per-week with Manchester United in the Sixties, so I suppose everything is relevant. But I’ve got absolutely no complaints about the way things went for me in my career on that front.’
Law ponders only for a moment when he is asked his abiding memory of a glittering career. His reply is more than just a little surprising. ‘I was 18 at the time and walking down the street in Huddersfield,’ he replied. ‘The guy was selling the local paper, the Huddersfield Examiner, if I remember correctly. He told me that I’d been chosen to play for Scotland. I could hardly believe it. Honestly, it almost took my breath away. As far as I am concerned, there is no higher honour than being picked to play for your country. It would be fair to say I was absolutely overjoyed.
‘And, of course, the highlight of my international career has got to be the 1967 win over England at Wembley. Beating the world champions on their own midden, as it were, was just wonderful. We had to suffer for a year with the English going on endlessly about being World Cup winners. We had to do something about it, hadn’t we? We played some outstanding football that afternoon.
‘I got the first goal after Gordon Banks spilled a low shot from Willie Wallace. I followed in Willie’s effort and was in the right place at the right time to net from the rebound. It’s history now that we won 3-2. I still get a warm glow when I think of that day. Brilliant!’
How much would a player of Law’s remarkable penalty-box prowess be worth in today’s market, does he think? ‘Behave yourself, I’m not answering that question,’ he chuckles. ‘I cost Manchester United £115,000 when they signed me from Torino back in 1962. That might act as some sort of guideline.’
Law looks back with fondness on his glory days at Old Trafford alongside George Best, Bobby Charlton and his good pal Pat Crerand. ‘Smashing times,’ beams Law. ‘That team had a mixture of everything. We had guile, class, goalscorers and people who could have a little nibble every now and again. Occasionally, Nobby Stiles would put in a little bit of stick, but only if it was required, of course. To have a championship-winning team you must have a mixture of all that.
‘The 1967 title win gave us more joy than any other. We had to play West Ham away from home in the run-in and, of course, they had an excellent team back then. They played a lot of good football, but we performed magnificently that afternoon and won 6-1. What a lovely way to win the title.’
Law smiles at the memory of enjoying his football back then and adds, ‘I loved it when Sir Matt Busby gave us our team talks the night before the game – it meant I had forgotten it all by the time I got out on the pitch!’
But Law certainly admired the way Busby went about giving so much pleasure to so many fans. ‘His only instruction before a game was to tell us, “Well, I know you can play good football. Go out there and play”. If you had given your best, no matter the result at the end of the game, then Busby would say he couldn’t have asked for more. It was as simple as that.’
Law, of course, missed out on a European Cup-winners’ medal when he was sidelined with injury on the
evening United beat Benfica 4-1 at Wembley in 1968. ‘Yes, I would have loved to have played,’ he says, ‘but fate had other ideas. End of story.’
Has he anything special in the pipeline for his 60th birthday? ‘Nope, not a thing,’ he replies. ‘I’m really not that sort of person. We’ll have the family around with the assortment of wives, husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends and the like. It will be a good family day.’
At least he knows a nation of grateful football fans will be thinking of him on his big day and sharing many happy memories.