Craig Brown - The Game of My Life. Craig Brown
to have that as well as my PE qualification. I did actually start to teach while I was at Dundee because we used to train only in the mornings for four days a week, which left me with the afternoons and the whole of Monday free. I was what was known as a peripatetic, or itinerant, PE teacher, because I went round various schools in the Dundee area. I thoroughly enjoyed myself in the teaching profession, even though I was still classed as a full-time professional footballer. It was not uncommon in those days, but today, with so many more fixtures and other commitments, players would find it virtually impossible to have such a part-time career – even if they wanted, or even needed, it.
While all this was happening I was still very much a part of the Dundee first-team squad, which was not only trying to defend the championship in the new season, but was also making its debut in the European Cup. This meant that there were quite a few problems with my teaching work as I often had to change my appointments, and that, in turn, would throw out some of the timetables at the schools where I was working. The other problem was that the PE work also caused my knee to swell up once more. I discussed the problem with the education authority, and they suggested that it would probably be better, and more convenient all round, if I concentrated on my primary teaching instead of my PE teaching. I took their advice, and that really is how I got started in primary teaching.
Meanwhile, there was plenty happening on the football pitch. The New York visit that I mentioned earlier was planned to enable us to take part in a soccer tournament involving teams like Reutlingen of West Germany, Hadjduk Split of Yugoslavia, Guadalajara of Mexico, Palermo of Italy and America of Brazil.
It provided some valuable experience in playing against foreign sides. Doug Houston, whom I mentioned earlier, had joined Dundee from Queen’s Park, and the well-known goalkeeper Bert Slater had also signed for us. Three players had left us and there was a cloud hanging over the club because six of the top Dundee players had not signed new contracts. The club had offered £25 a week but Hamilton, Penman, Robertson, Seith, Ure and Gilzean were not yet committed, and there was the obvious worry that they might go elsewhere. That £25-a-week offer was not bad in those days. The two Glasgow giants, Rangers and Celtic, would possibly have paid more, but nobody else in Scotland would have done at that time. As it happened it was all a storm in a teacup anyway, because all six of them eventually signed on the dotted line, meaning the team was intact when we opened our campaign against our arch-rivals Dundee United at Tannadice.
It was a League Cup game, and I’m pleased to say that I had recovered sufficiently from my knee problems to be picked for the team and receive a roasting from Dennis Gillespie who, sadly, died in June 2001. Unfortunately we lost 3–2, which was a blow – but we made up for it a few days later with a 1–0 win over Celtic.
I have to admit that we struggled during our remaining League Cup games, and not even a civic reception at Dundee’s Chamber of Commerce, in honour of our championship success of the previous season, could rekindle the flame that had burned so brightly. A lot of our confidence did return, however, when we beat Dundee United 2–1 in the return League Cup game, and it was probably that victory that set us up for our very first European Cup game. We had been drawn against Cologne – one of the most daunting challenges any side could be asked to face on their European Cup debut. The manager decided that the best policy would be to go for experience rather than for enthusiasm, and therefore four other younger players and I found ourselves left out to make way for those with possibly cooler heads.
On the face of it we were in for a hiding by the Germans. There is no shame in the fact that we were pretty well written off, with questions being asked about how many Cologne would score rather than if they would score. Scottish football has always been a game full of surprises – not all of them pleasant ones. In recent times, Scottish clubs have struggled in European competitions. We cannot use the English excuse of being banned for so many years because we have never had a break in continuity but, somehow, these days it does not seem to pay off for us.
I thought that Celtic played very well before going out to Liverpool in the 1997/98 UEFA Cup and in the away match against Ajax in August 2001, but I could not honestly say that about others – Rangers included. They should have done much better. The clubs’ management and coaches, along with their players, also seem to find it a mystery that no serious progress has been made in any of the European competitions for so long. We can only put it down to not being ‘all right on the night’, and hope that, soon, a psychological barrier can be broken down and that Scottish clubs will set the matter right by once again making their mark on the European football stage.
We have had our European triumphs, of course, and I’m sure that we will again – but we are certainly starved at the moment. Anyway, let us turn the clock back and follow the fortunes of Dundee in the 1962/63 European Cup competition, to a time when the first hurdle was looking more like one of those nightmare fences in the Grand National.
What was about to happen in that tie against Cologne nobody really knew – how could they? As I said, we had already been written off by many people. However, since the event, it has become one of the most talked-about clashes in European football history.
NOBODY COULD POSSIBLY have written the script for Dundee’s first European encounter. There had been a buzz of real excitement when we heard that we had been drawn out of the hat with FC Cologne. They were a well-known side and the tie was eagerly awaited. You can imagine that as the time approached for the first leg – which was at Dens Park in September 1962 – the newspapers were carrying daily bulletins on the build-up to the big day. They were given some real gems by a gentleman called Karl Frohlich, who was the advance guard for Cologne and had been sent ahead to take a look at the hotel and training facilities. During an interview he said one or two things that could hardly be thought of as flattering towards Dundee. The newspapers loved it and their banner headlines whipped up even more frenzy for the approaching clash.
Not only did Dundee fans feel insulted by Herr Frohlich’s remarks – which he later denied making, by the way – but they also lulled Cologne into an air of complacency. He had insinuated that they only had to turn up to get through to the next round of the European Cup.
I was not playing in that game but I was in my customary place with the squad – not on the bench, of course, because substitutes were not allowed then. I did not make the eleven on the team sheet but I was involved in all the preparations as usual – just in case. The match began at a frenzied pace. Dundee, roared on by the fans, were determined to go for the jugular from the very start. The Germans were startled, so much so that after ten minutes their experienced defender, Matt Hammersbach, put the ball into his own net while under pressure.
About a minute later we scored again with one of the most incredible goals that I have ever seen. Bobby Wishart found himself in a position to have a go. He let fly but completely miskicked the ball, his foot ploughing into the turf. Instead of rocketing towards the goal, the ball merely trickled along – but Fritz Ewart, the German goalkeeper, dived in the opposite direction. Bobby had sent a large divot into the air and the goalkeeper had mistaken it for the ball. He flew in one direction and caught the turf as the ball gently rolled in at the other post. Long-term Dundee fans will remember that goal for as long as they live – as will I.
It didn’t end there either, because Hugh Robertson took advantage of the Germans’ dismay to put us 3–0 ahead with only thirteen minutes gone. Alan Gilzean and Gordon Smith both scored too, putting us 5–0 ahead when we went in for half-time. That scoreline must have sent shock waves all around Europe. Emotions were running very high indeed during the interval, and not just because of the goals. Alan Cousin and the German goalkeeper had both gone for a high ball and the Cologne man had ended up on the ground, rolling about as though he had been pole-axed. In fairness, he did go to the local hospital later for treatment to a head injury, but Alan denied that he had made any deliberate contact with Ewart. The German newspapers had other ideas, though, and a photo of Alan Cousin punching their goalie hero was splashed