David Peace - The Damned Utd

I tell them, ‘Listen, the ball is in Spurs’ court. As far as we’re concerned, we can only wait for developments. Giles has not applied for the job and so the next move has got to come from Spurs. If they do want him as manager, I presume they will contact me and we’ll take it from there. If in fact they really do want him as manager …’

‘But what about Joe Jordan? What about Terry Cooper and Forest? Terry Yorath and Everton? Will Jordan and Cooper still play on Saturday? Will Yorath?’ they ask –

I tell them again, ‘We’ve got injuries and we’ve got suspensions and the transfer deadline for the European Cup has already passed. There are only thirteen days to go now. So I’m telling you all, everyone will still be here thirteen days from now.’

‘Everyone?’ they ask. ‘You think you’ll still be here in thirteen days?’

* * *

Derby ended up drawing 0–0 at West Ham in Dave Mackay’s first game as manager of Derby County. Longson was back on the box –

‘ I could manage this lot,’ Longson told Match of the Day.

You are watching him from your bed at the Waldorf Hotel, lying on that bed in your television suit and your television tie, drinking dry your private bar –

But you’re not really watching Longson, watching Match of the Day; you’re thinking about the whispers and the rumours, the whispers and the rumours that the FA are going to throw the book at you again, throw the book at you again for all the things you said and wrote, all the things you said and wrote about Leeds United and Don Revie last summer; the whispers and the rumours that the Disciplinary Committee will finish you in football, ban you for life or suspend you for seasons; the whispers and rumours that Forest have been warned away, that no club will touch you now, no club …

Pete puts out his fag. Pete gets up from his chair. Pete switches off the TV –

‘ I was fucking watching that,’ you tell him. ‘Switch it back on .’

‘ After we’ve had a little chat,’ he says .

‘ Here we go,’ you tell him. ‘What have I done now, Mother? ’

‘ I want to know if you’re serious about the Brighton job .’

‘ Like the wife says, beggars can’t be choosers .’

‘ We’re not beggars,’ says Pete. ‘Not yet .’

‘ I will be,’ you tell him. ‘This disrepute charge could finish me .’

‘ Have you spoken to Bamber about it?’ asks Pete .

You shake your head. You drain your drink. You light another fag .

‘ You’ll have to tell him,’ says Pete. ‘Tell him soon and all .’

‘ Why?’ you ask. ‘So he can run for the bloody hills with the rest of them? ’

‘ Come on, Brian. Not telling him is not right and you know it .’

You pour another drink and finish that. Light another fag and finish that –

‘ I’ve got a wife, three kids and no fucking job,’ you tell him. ‘I’m scared, Pete .’

‘ And you call me a fucking coward?’ laughs Pete. ‘You’re yellow through and through, and you know what? I’ve always fucking known it .’

‘ It’s miles away,’ you tell him. ‘Bloody Brighton .’

‘ Coward .’

‘ You seen where they bloody are?’ you ask him. ‘Bottom of the fucking Third .’

‘ You’re a football manager,’ says Pete. ‘It’s your job to get them out of there .’

‘ With average gates of 6,000?’ you ask him. ‘It can’t be done .’

‘ So what you going to do then?’ asks Pete. ‘Drive a taxi? Buy a pub? ’

‘ Fuck off! ’

‘ All mouth and no trousers,’ says Pete. ‘That’s the real Cloughie! ’

‘ Fuck off!’ you shout and throw a pillow at him –

‘ All mouth and no fucking trousers,’ he laughs. ‘No fucking balls! ’

‘ All right, all right,’ you tell him. ‘I’ll take the fucking job, if it shuts you up .’

‘ If they’ll bloody have you,’ he says. ‘If you’re not fucking suspended .’

* * *

Under the stands, through the doors, round the corner and down the corridor, there are tears in Terry Cooper’s eyes; Terry Cooper who has been with Leeds United for fourteen years, who has played for them 300-odd times; Terry Cooper who has won umpteen medals and nineteen caps, umpteen medals and seventeen more caps than me; Terry Cooper who fights back those tears and asks me again,‘ £ 75,000?’

I finish my drink. I pour another. I light a fag and I nod.

‘That’s all you think I’m worth? £ 75,000?’

I finish that drink. I finish that fag and I nod again.

‘What about my testimonial?’ asks Terry Cooper. ‘What about that?’

‘What about it?’

‘I’ve been here fourteen years. I’ve played 327 times for this club,’ says Terry Cooper. ‘I scored the winning goal against Arsenal at Wembley, the winning goal that brought the League Cup here in 1968. First thing we’d ever won.’

‘That was then,’ I tell him. ‘This is 1974.’

You can’t let go. You can’t walk away. Because no one wants to train for him. No one wants to play for him. They’ve told you that, a hundred times. To your face and down the phone. No one wants to play for him –

They want to play for you. They want to work for you –

Not Dave Mackay. Not Sam Longson –

They want you –

Cloughie .

Today Derby County are travelling up to Roker Park for tonight’s League Cup replay against Sunderland. But no one wants to travel with him. No one wants to play for him. They’ve told you that, a thousand times . –

If Derby lose this game, if Mackay loses this game, then who knows …

No one wants to play for him. No one wants to work for him –

They want to play for you. They want to work for you –

Not Dave Mackay. Not Sam Longson –

They want you –

Cloughie.

So if Derby County lose this game, if Mackay loses this game, then who knows? Who knows what tomorrow might bring?

Cloughie, risen and immaculate –

Cloughie, back again?

* * *

I am last out of bed this morning, down the stairs and into that new blue Mercedes-Benz. Last through the doors and to work, round the corner and down that corridor, the training finished but the players still here; the players still here and wanting a word; wanting a word because John Giles has been busy this morning –

The Irishman has told the rest of the team why he wants to go to Tottenham; why he wants to leave Leeds. Joe Jordan has been busy too. The Scotsman has told the rest of the team what he thinks about playing in the reserves; what he thinks about being sold to Birmingham City. Terry Yorath has also been busy. The Welshman has told the rest of the team what he thinks about moving to Everton. But Terry Cooper has been busiest of all. The Englishman has told the lot of them that he’s being sold to Forest; told them his testimonial is in doubt. The lot of them worried now. The lot of them scared. The lot of them angry. The lot of them wanting a word –

‘ Are you there, Brian? Are you still there? Are you in there or what? ’

Under the stands, through the doors, round the corner and down the corridor, I have locked that bloody door and put the fucking chair against it –

Doubt and fear. Doubt and fear. Doubt and fear .

I pour a drink. I light another fag. I cancel the Friday lunchtime press conference. I tell Harry, Ron and Mike that I’ll speak to them by phone: