Times obituary: Brian Clough

The public loved his frequent verbal assaults on any authority and consumed it voraciously - Clough made a fortune from newspaper columns and television appearances. He was long-touted as the people’s choice for England manager and at one stage threatened to enter politics as a Labour candidate. He was supported at various times by factions in the constituencies of Richmond, Loughborough and Stretford.

Yet his bulldozing approach also made him numerous enemies and there were many who rejoiced when his hubris inevitably caught up with him. Clough’s 18-year reign as Forest manager ended with the ignominy of relegation amidst persistent allegations of alcoholism and financial irregularities.

A man of many contradictions, Clough was a lifeline socialist who wrote a column for The Sun and a money hoarder who could be extraordinarily generous. He once talked a suicidal man out of drowning himself in the river Trent by stopping his car and chatting to him about football until he calmed down.

He was an anti-authoritarian extrovert, yet he turned out teams of such discipline that referees looked forward to officiating over their games for weeks. Clough despised hooligans, but was capable of behaving like one himself.

After one Cup victory he waded into a crowd of exuberant Forest fans who had invaded the pitch and began to clout them systematically before an amazed television audience. A few days’ later he invited the cameras to see him make peace with the fans he had assaulted, and made each of them kiss him.

Clough’s greatest successes as a manager came with teams and individuals whom he was able to mould unchallenged. His approach was to break down their resistance through whatever technique was expedient and then to begin to exert a Svengali-like effect on them. After buying Trevor Francis for a record £1 million he played him in the Forest third team to let him know he was boss.

Clough was extraordinarily unpredictable. He might suddenly order his team to run into a field of stinging nettles, and on one occasion asked a player whether he had ever been hit in the stomach, and on receiving a negative reply, dealt him a forceful blow and said ‘you have now’.

He had many players convinced he could make them look at him in the dugout at any point during a game through a mere act of will. But when Clough tried the same dictatorial approach with seasoned international players at Leeds United, the result was mutiny. For this reason, Clough would likely have proved a disastrous manager of the national team.

Another key ingredient in Clough’s success was his partnership with Peter Taylor. The two met as Middlesbrough players in the mid-1950s. Taylor, the club goalkeeper and six years the senior of the pair, became Clough’s mentor, feeding his ego and touting him as a future England player.

The two spent every spare moment together, developing a joint philosophy of the game and attempting to control how it was played at the club. When Clough went into management, at fourth division Hartlepool, he insisted that Taylor was appointed with him.

This unprecedented arrangement flourished, with Clough specialising in publicity and man-management, while Taylor concentrated on improving the team. The pair reproduced the formula at Derby, Brighton and Forest. But as time went by, their relationship was soured by rows over money and Taylor walked out on Forest in 1982. The rift lasted until Taylor’s death in 1990, and it was one of Clough’s few regrets that there as never a reconciliation. Many believed that his passion for the game was never the same after the split.

Clough was born and raised in Middlesbrough, the sixth of nine children who slept three to a bed, head to toe. Having left school with no qualifications, he signed as an amateur for Middlesbrough Football Club then in the old Second Division, at 16, turning professional the next year.

He had six seasons in the Middlesbrough first team before being transferred to Sunderland, their North East rivals, in 1961. Clough was one of the most deadly strikers in the history of the English game. In his 274 league matches he scored 251 goals giving him the best ratio of goals per game of any post-war player.

Yet he only made two appearances for the national team. This was widely attributed to his alienating arrogance. He once infuriated the England manager Walter Winterbottom, by demanding that he drop either Jimmy Greaves or Bobby Charlton.

On Boxing Day 1962, Clough’s playing career was effectively ended by a knee injury on a frozen pitch in a game against Bury. Suddenly robbed of his trade, Clough fell into a depression from which he sought relief in alcohol.

He was saved by the manager George Hardwick, who had him qualify as an FA coach and take control of the Sunderland youth team. Clough took to the role with relish, but he had made enemies among the club’s directors and was sacked as soon as they received the insurance payout for his injury.

In 1965, after three months without work, Clough became the youngest manager in the league with Hartlepool United (then known as Hartlepools).

There he rediscovered his self belief, learned he had the ability to inspire even mediocre players, and saw off his first antagonistic chairman after the latter had tried to sack Taylor. He also learned to exploit his natural talent for showmanship to his club’s and his own advantage. His two years at Hartlepool made enough impact for him to be offered the manager’s job at Derby County.

Clough and Taylor led Derby to the second division title in 1969, with a team blending shrewdly-bought younger players and inspirationally-rehabilitated older ones. Of all his managerial achievements, this gave Clough the most pleasure, although greater triumphs were to follow.

Derby were League champions within three years of their promotion. Yet the next season, with the footballing world seemingly at their feet, Clough and Taylor walked out on Derby, after an attempt by the club chairman to curtail Clough’s numerous media commitments.

After a brief spell at Brighton, dominated by Clough’s attempts to have himself reinstated at his previous club, he was offered the manager’s job at Leeds United. Clough got off to a disastrous start, telling his new players that they could throw away their considerable collections of medals as they had won them all by cheating. He was sacked after only 44 days in the job, although not before negotiating a substantial payoff.

Clough followed one of the shortest reigns as a league manager with one of the longest. In January 1975, he was appointed manager of Nottingham Forest. Within six months he was reunited with Taylor (who had remained at Brighton in the interim) and the pair, revitalised by a fresh challenge, set about surpassing what they had achieved at Derby, following up the League Championship of 1978 with successive European Cup victories.

These triumphs were to prove the zenith of Clough’s career. Although he continued to have modest success with Forest after Taylor’s departure, winning two League Cups, his later years were dominated by what seemed to have become an almost cosy eccentric.

That this was not in fact the case was abundantly illustrated at the time of his retirement. His departure was soured by the allegations from one of the Forest chairmen that Clough had twice almost died through drink.

At the same time he was accused of having demanded illegal personal payments for the sale of Forest players and of ticket touting. Clough defended himself against these attacks with characteristic vigour, and though nothing was substantiated some of the mud stuck. In retirement he was widely portrayed as a ravaged alcoholic, although it is doubtful that any journalist would have risked saying this to his face.