Craig Brown - The Game of My Life. Craig Brown
in some way with everything – and I’m extremely grateful for that.
I was still teaching through those heady days as a Dundee ‘star’ and a ‘pop icon’, but I continued to have trouble with my knee. I decided, after I had been at the club for about six years, that I would pluck up the courage to ask the manager if I could go part-time officially. I explained that, with my knee still giving me problems, I was not expecting to have a very long playing span, and I wanted the insurance of my teaching career. He agreed with me and I was allowed to do my training with Hamilton Academicals. I continued to play for Dundee, but mostly as a reserve player with just the occasional first-team excursion. Meanwhile, I was gaining experience in my teaching work.
It was around 1965 when Falkirk, at the bottom of the First Division, made an approach for me. I talked to Bob Shankly, who was still Dundee manager, and asked for his advice, because I was due a benefit payment from the club. He looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘Son, I’m getting the hell out of here – and I would advise you to do the same!’
I think he had fallen out with the chairman by this time, but I took his advice and agreed to join Falkirk. I had been the first signing that Bob Shankly had made when he joined Dundee, and I was his last transfer away from the club before he left. It was the end of a great time for the club and for me personally.
The deal went through and I did get my benefit payment, plus a little bit, which enabled me to buy a new car and still have some left over. I was also pleased to hear that Doug Baillie, with whom I had been at Rangers, was also joining Falkirk from Third Lanark the same week.
As I said, Falkirk were bottom of the table when we joined, but we managed to get some good results in the last weeks of the season and successfully steered the club to the safety zone away from the threat of relegation. I had been nursing my knee and disguising the fact that I was really only performing on one leg. I had been playing as sweeper, and I enjoyed myself because I found it a simple position in which to play.
Our last home game of the season was particularly memorable because we were visited by Celtic, and we delighted the Brockville Park crowd by beating them 6–2. It was an important end to the season for us because the club wanted to show its supporters how much it appreciated their loyalty when relegation was looking to be a certainty. There is no better way to send a crowd home happy than to give one of the biggest clubs in the game a real thumping.
I had three managers while I was at Falkirk. The man who signed me was Alec McCrae, and then he was sacked and replaced by Sammy Kean. That was bad news for me because Sammy had been the trainer at Dundee and, while there was no problem between us on a personal basis, he knew all about my injury problems. I remember that when we turned up for pre-season training, our coach – the excellent Willie Ormond – brought him into the dressing room to introduce us. We were all sitting around in our brand-new tracksuits and I was the first person that he clapped his eyes on.
With no hesitation, Sammy borrowed Bob Shankly’s name for me and said, ‘Christ Craig, you’re not a full-timer, are you?’
I replied, ‘No, boss, I’m only here during my school holidays.’
He said, ‘Thank Christ for that!’
The players all laughed, and they knew that I wasn’t going to figure too prominently in the forthcoming team selections. To be fair, Sammy was not an unreasonable man and I did get into the side. Unfortunately, he was later sacked and replaced by a well-known manager called John Prentice – one-time Scotland manager.
John Prentice had been an impressive manager in his day and was actually in the Falkirk side that won the Scottish Cup in 1957, so you can imagine that he was a very popular manager for the club. He had a tremendous knowledge of the game and the respect of everyone. By the time he arrived I was really struggling and spending nearly all my time with the second team. In fact, in the programme notes for first-team games, references to me usually said something like, ‘Craig Brown, the “Auld Heid”, is doing a great job in the reserves.’
I was still only in my mid-twenties but I was already classed as an ‘Auld Heid’! I was captain of the reserves but I was still struggling, and it was quite good news for me that substitutes were to be allowed for the first time. I was now able to start a game and then, when I could not go on any longer, I would put up my hand and my replacement would be prepared to take over. Before the advent of substitutes I would either have not been able to play or been something of a lame duck during the latter part of the game. If substitutes had been allowed some years earlier, my playing career might have lasted much longer.
I had another knee operation when I was at Falkirk which slowed me down again – and then came the moment that every player dreads. I was told that I was being freed by the club. I was very disappointed that the news was given to me by Gibby Ormond, the reserves’ coach and brother of Willie. He handed me an envelope. Inside was a letter that said that my services were no longer required.
It hurt that the manager had not told me face to face, and I learned another lesson. Having suffered the ignominy of being given a free transfer, I would never do the same to someone else without talking to him in a direct fashion, face to face, man to man! The letter I received was just a brief note thanking me for my services, which were no longer required. It went on to tell me to make sure that I only took one pair of boots with me! The letter came after a reserve game against Rangers at Ibrox, and I did feel that I had been treated rather badly. It wasn’t the matter of being freed, but the manner in which it was done. I have never knowingly treated any player in my charge in such a fashion, and I never will.
So, Falkirk didn’t want me any more. I thought long and hard about my situation and decided that my playing career was over. The knee was still playing me up and I felt that I was enjoying my teaching career enough to be able to turn my back on the game as a professional footballer. While at school I was coaching youngsters and so I was still involved in a very pleasant aspect of the game – giving tips to boys who might well turn out to be the stars of tomorrow.
It turned out that my playing days were not entirely over, however, when I had a surprise approach from Stranraer Football Club. They asked if I would be interested in trying to resurrect my career. I thought about it again and decided to have a go. I received a small signing fee and turned up for work. I started to train at Shawfield Stadium, the home of Clyde, where the physiotherapist was Lawrie Smith, who had been the first person to identify my knee problem when I was at Dundee. Lawrie was now at Clyde where the manager was Davie White, who later went on to manage Rangers.
So I trained at Clyde and began my Stranraer career with a friendly match against Larne, the Irish team. I was delighted, because I found that football at that level was very comfortable and I had high hopes of a good season with Stranraer. I should have known that it was all too good to be true. During training I received yet another knee injury, and I went to the Law Hospital in Carluke where I saw the surgeon, Mr Garden. He was a top man who knew his job, and he gave my knee a thorough examination, inside and out. Finally he came and talked to me with a very serious expression on his face. I could feel the tension rising within me as I waited to hear the result of the exploratory operation.
‘I’m sorry, Craig, but your knee is a mess. It will not withstand any more wear and tear – and it is arthritic. I have cleaned it up the best I can but you have a condition known as exostosis, a bone problem. The truth is, you will have to give up playing.’
I swallowed hard. I had been expecting something like this but it was still painful to hear. Was that it? Never again to be able to kick a ball in anger? It was a bitter blow, but I knew that there was no point in arguing. The medical facts were evidence enough that my playing career was over – this time for good. I did not dwell on feeling sorry for myself. I felt bad for Stranraer. It was now August 1967 and the season was underway. They had paid me a signing-on fee and had started to pay wages. I felt that I had given nothing in return, and I well knew that for clubs like Stranraer there was a constant financial struggle. They had been good enough to offer me the chance of getting my career back together and it had not worked out. I knew they needed every bit of cash they could muster, and that was why I spontaneously paid back all they had given me. I felt that it was