David Peace - The Damned Utd

‘ Are you there, Brian? Are you still there? ’

I help my wife bath the kids and put them to bed. I watch a bit of telly with my wife before she goes up to bed. Then I sit in that old rocking chair with a drink and a smile because I know we’ll beat Luton on Saturday at home. I know we’ll beat Huddersfield Town in the League Cup. I know we’ll beat Zurich in the first round of the European Cup. I know we will move up the table. I know we will progress in the cups.

‘ Are you there, Brian? Are you still there? ’

I close my eyes but I do not sleep. I do not sleep but I dream. I dream of empty cities after the A-bomb. Empty cities in which I am the only man left alive. The only man left alive to walk around and around these cities. To walk around and around until I hear a telephone ringing. I hear a telephone ringing and I search until I find it. I find it and pick it up and listen to the voice asking me, ‘Are you there, Brian? Are you still there?’

‘Yes,’ I tell them. ‘I’m still here.’

‘Then who’s sorry now, Brian?’ laughs the voice on the phone. ‘Who’s sorry now?’

You are still in your house. Your door locked and your curtains still pulled. In the dark. You spend half your time in bed, half your time on the settee. Up and down the stairs. Ignoring the phone, answering the phone. In and out of bed. The radio on. The radio off. Up and down the stairs again. On and off the settee. The television on. The television off. Because Dave Mackay is the manager of Derby County FC now. Not you –

Because today is Dave Mackay’s first day in the job. Your job –

Wednesday 24 October 1973 .

There were angry scenes in Nottingham last night, the Nottingham Forest fans accusing Mackay of betrayal, of leaving a job half done. There have been angry words in the newspapers this morning, the Derby County players saying they won’t play for Dave Mackay, they won’t train for Dave Mackay. They won’t work for Dave Mackay –

The Derby players, your players, saying they’ll go on strike:

‘To Bring Back Cloughie!’

Now there are angry scenes at the Baseball Ground, angry scenes as Dave Mackay arrives for his first day in the job, your job, greeted by banners and protesters –

‘ B.B.C.! B.B.C.!’ they chant. ‘Bring back Cloughie! Bring back Cloughie! ’

Behind the door, behind the curtains, you turn the television up, the radio up:

‘ Fuck off, Mackay,’ they shout. ‘You’re not welcome here! ’

But Dave Mackay has guts. Dave Mackay has balls –

‘ Who was that?’ Dave Mackay shouts back. ‘Tell him to come in for a trial. I think we could use him on the wing .’

The press and the television lap it up. The cameras and the lights. The fans. The autograph books and the pens. Even the protesters laugh .

‘ This job is my destiny,’ Dave Mackay tells the cameras and the lights, the banners and the protesters. ‘I have a lot to prove, but I’m not afraid. You either see the glass as half full or half empty. I see it as half full and I fancy a drink .’

You switch off the television. You switch off the radio –

You sweep the papers off the bed onto the floor –

You pull the covers over your head .

* * *

I am first out of bed this morning, down the stairs and into my brand-new blue Mercedes-Benz. I am first through the doors this morning, round the corner and down the corridor, shouting, ‘William! William!’

But Billy Bremner doesn’t stop. Billy Bremner doesn’t put down his kit bag or turn around.

Down the corridor, I shout again, ‘Billy!’

Bremner stops now. Bremner puts down his kit bag and turns around.

I walk down the corridor towards him. I ask him, ‘You coming tonight?’

‘Where?’ asks Bremner.

‘Here,’ I tell him. ‘For the reserve game against Blackburn.’

‘Why?’ asks Bremner.

‘I told you,’ I tell him again. ‘I’d value your input on the bench.’

‘I have to come then?’ asks Bremner. ‘You’re ordering me?’

‘Course I’m not ordering you,’ I tell him. ‘I’m asking you, because I think …’

But Bremner is shaking his head, saying, ‘ Only a Game tonight.’

‘What?’

‘On the telly tonight,’ says Billy Bremner. ‘ Only a Game ; Scotland vs Brazil. Having some friends round, a few drinks. You don’t expect me to miss that, do you?’

I turn my back on him. I walk round the corner and down the corridor to the office. I pour a drink and I light a fag. I get out my address book. I pick up the phone and I make some calls. Lots of fucking calls. Then I put down the phone. I put away my address book. I put out my fag. I finish my drink and I get changed. I put on my old green Leeds United goalkeeping jersey. I open the desk drawer. I take out a whistle. I lock the office door. I double check it’s locked. I go down the corridor. Round the corner. Through reception and out into the car park. I jog through the potholes and the puddles. Past the huts on stilts. Up the banking. Onto the training ground –

Bastards. Bastards. Bastards .

I blow the whistle. I shout, ‘Jordan, Madeley, Cooper, Bates, Yorath and young Gray, you’ll all be playing in the reserve game tonight. See you there.’

I turn my back on them and there’s Syd Owen and Maurice Lindley stood there, stood there waiting, heads together, whispering and muttering, whispering and muttering. Maurice has a large envelope between his fingers. He hands it to me. ‘There you go.’

‘What the hell’s all this?’ I ask him.

‘The dossier on FC Zurich,’ he says. ‘The works.’

‘Just tell me if they bloody won or not.’

‘They did,’ he says.‘3–0 away.’

‘And are they any fucking good?’

‘They are,’ he says.

‘Ta,’ I tell him and hand him back his envelope. ‘That’s all I needed to know.’

I jog off down the banking. Past the huts. Through the potholes and the puddles. Across the car park and into reception. Sam Bolton is stood there, stood there waiting –

‘How’s your car?’ he asks me.

‘It’s very nice,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you.’

‘That’s good,’ he says. ‘Now get yourself changed and up them stairs.’

* * *

You are still in bed, still under the covers. Downstairs, the telephone is ringing and ringing and ringing. You don’t get out of bed. You don’t answer it. Your wife does –

‘ Brian!’ she shouts up the stairs. ‘It’s a Mike Bamber. From Brighton .’

You put your head above the covers. You get out of bed. You go down the stairs. You put the telephone to your ear –

‘ Mr Clough, my name is Mike Bamber,’ says Mike Bamber. ‘And I’m the chairman of Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club. I was wondering if we might have a chat about a vacancy I have here .’

‘ Brighton?’ you ask him. ‘They’re in the Third Division, aren’t they? ’

‘ Unfortunately,’ says Mike Bamber. ‘But I believe you’re the very man who might well be able to do something about that …’

‘ I might consider it,’ you tell him. ‘And, if I do, I’ll be in touch .’

You put down the telephone. You look up at your wife –

‘ A job’s a job,’ she says .

‘ In the Third Division?’ you ask her. ‘On the south coast? ’

‘ Beggars can’t be choosers .’

* * *

Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion are taking legal action against Leeds United. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion have issued writs against me and Leeds United. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion are claiming damages against me for breach of contract. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion are claiming damages against Leeds United for inducing me to breach my contract. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion claim Leeds United promised to pay them £ 75,000 in compensation for me. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion also claim Leeds United promised to play a friendly match against them at their Goldstone Ground. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion want their friendly match. Mike Bamber and Brighton and Hove Albion want their money –