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Remembering Brian Clough: An outsider who’d mourn today’s foreign greed and ignorance to soccer history

Remembering Brian Clough: An outsider who’d mourn today’s foreign greed and ignorance to soccer history

Saturday marks 10 years since the death of Brian Clough, the iconic English soccer manager who brought unheard-of domestic and European success to provincial clubs like Derby and Nottingham Forest throughout the 1970s. The pending anniversary aside, he came to mind earlier this week.

Hull and West Ham played out a 2-2 draw with an Ecuadorian and Uruguayan player both on the scoresheet. Were he still alive, Clough would’ve been addled. Never the most sensitive of souls, he found it difficult to grasp the influx of players from mainland Europe to the Premier League during the late ‘90s. Naturally, given his ability for withering put-downs and one-liners, Clough remarked at the time:

“I can't even spell spaghetti never mind talk Italian. How could I tell an Italian to get the ball - he might grab mine."

Brian Clough salutes the fans after his last game in charge of the club before retiring. (Photo by David Cannon/Allsport UK/Getty Images)
Brian Clough salutes the fans after his last game in charge of the club before retiring. (Photo by David Cannon/Allsport UK/Getty Images)

The wit was often a defence mechanism; for Clough always seemed genuinely uncomfortable with and threatened by the “outsider”: soccer games broadcast live on television, educated footballers (Martin O’Neill, who was a European Cup winner at Nottingham Forest, had studied law which irked Clough) and the unconventional types that didn’t fit a pre-determined ‘normality’ (though he always maintained it never bothered him, Justin Fashanu’s closet homosexuality was completely uncharted territory for Clough).

The paradox was that Clough himself was the biggest outsider of them all. His inability to stay quiet and blend in with everything around him inevitably cost him the opportunity of becoming manager of the English national team. And, it was this suspicion that regularly led him to relentless clashes with his most detested outsiders - club owners and executives. He found them a nuisance, interested only in sourcing problems, not solutions. The biggest issue Clough had with chairmen was that they weren’t soccer people but businessmen, interested only in pound signs and ignorant to the history, tradition and culture of the sport.

And that is still happening in today's football.

The week has been neatly bookended by the travails of current Premier League club owners. At the KC Stadium on Monday night, Hull faced into their first game since owner Assem Allam confirmed the club was for sale. The 75-year-old, in charge for almost four years, had desperately wanted to change the team name from Hull City to Hull Tigers but the FA denied the proposal in April. Furious, Allam put the club on the market where it’s remained ever since. He has also lodged a complaint with the Court of Arbitration for Sport to appeal against the FA’s rejection.

Allam is an interesting figure with extensive ties to the area. He studied economics at the University of Hull in the 1960s before making his fortune. His idea is to grow Hull’s fan base. He feels a name change will benefit the franchise’s international marketability. And if this all sounds familiar, that’s because it is.

Cardiff City owner Vincent Tan. (Photo by Stu Forster/Getty Images)
Cardiff City owner Vincent Tan. (Photo by Stu Forster/Getty Images)

On Thursday, Cardiff sacked a second manager in the space of nine months. Ole Gunner Solskjaer failed to keep the club in the top flight last term and oversaw an unimpressive start to the Championship season as the Bluebirds lost three of their first seven games. The club’s owner, the Malaysian magnate  (he made his foray into business when he brought McDonald’s to the country in the 1980s), took over in 2010 and has ensured a radical and widely-ridiculed tenure. Two years ago, he was successful in changing Cardiff’s traditional blue home kit (its nickname is The Bluebirds) to a red one. The reason? To help the club expand its appeal. Also, Tan likes the colour. As he told the BBC early last year:

"You look at Man United and Liverpool and they are red - they are much more successful and have a bigger fan base than Chelsea or Manchester City. In Asia, red is the colour of joy, red is the colour of festivities and of celebration. In Chinese culture, blue is the colour of mourning.”

Inevitably, Cardiff were relegated from the Premier League (they finished bottom of the table), despite their new colours and its potential impact on overseas markets. Inevitably, Tan has proven to be a megalomaniac, unaware of the machinations and idiosyncrasies of British soccer. But, his quirkiness and boundlessly questionable decision-making invariably would be tolerated if it resulted in the club achieving its goals. But now, after all the theatrics, Cardiff sit in 17th place in the Championship table. Tan, so used to being lauded as an inspiration and pioneer, looks decidedly out of his depth. Hoping to be Cardiff’s saviour, he’s suffered mass ridicule instead. Like Allam, he hasn't got his way and has been stumped by the fans' forthright differences of opinion and the U.K. media's perception of him as being a comical villain of sorts, complete with his black leather gloves, sunglasses and unique dress sense. Set to work with a third manager inside 12 months, Tan's tenure has been tenuous and tumultuous and there will be an inevitable conclusion to it.

For owners, it comes down to what they want from any prospective takeover of a U.K. soccer club. History shows that ego usually gets in the way. Before the thoughtful, intelligent and astute Fenway Sports Group landed at Liverpool, the Merseyside outfit was suffering owing to Tom Hicks and George Gillett's financial difficulties. The joint owners, particularly Hicks, loved the spotlight. They talked big. But everything was built on giddy possibility rather than sustainable objectives. John Henry and Tom Werner, who also operate the Boston Red Sox, work quietly and efficiently and have consistently acknowledged the history and tradition the club revolves around.

Aston Villa owner Randy Lerner is looking to sell the Premier League club. (AP Photo / Simon Dawson)
Aston Villa owner Randy Lerner is looking to sell the Premier League club. (AP Photo / Simon Dawson)

At Aston Villa, there's been the honest endeavour of Randy Lerner. Though the club is for sale, he's proven to be a calming, confident influence – a rare feat in the weary, brow-beating world of the Premier League. It's proved so tiresome that Lerner is getting out, saying in an official club statement in May:

“The debt I owe Aston Villa whether as owner, Chairman, custodian or simply as a fan is to put the Club first. To make good on that debt, I owe it to Villa to move on, and look for fresh, invigorated leadership, if in my heart I feel I can no longer do the job”.

A noble act. The proper act. Not about money or one-upmanship or showmanship or celebrity but for the greater good. As Tottenham edges closer to new ownership (probably American), it's worth remembering the greater good. It's worth remembering that the sport continues with or without hotshot businessmen and that's because of its history. To try and change that is sacrosanct. Without it, what is there?

Eoin O'Callaghan is a soccer journalist and broadcaster. Best known in North America for his TV work with Fox Soccer, he has also reported extensively for BBC, RTE and Setanta Sports. He writes about soccer for The Irish Examiner newspaper, beIN Sports, One World Sports and TheScore.ie. Follow him @EoinOCallaghan