[Guardian]
Nigel Clough cannot escape the comparisons but Derby can only hope he has Dad's spirit
As Nigel Clough gave a typically polite and thoughtful performance on his first day as Derby County's new manager it was difficult to imagine he was once so caught up in Nottingham Forest's rivalry with their old enemies that he found himself pinned up against a wall by his throat.
Ted McMinn, the former Derby player, tells the story of one particularly rancorous east Midlands derby at the City Ground when he was substituted among a hail of abuse from the home fans and Clough shouted "piss off" as he walked past him. McMinn yelled back "Daddy's boy" and was so incensed he waited in the tunnel to "lamp" his opponent at the final whistle.
Archie Gemmill split it up but the police got involved and when Brian Clough heard what had happened he went to find the guy who had been messing with his son. "He marched me into the Forest changing rooms where the players were downing beer and Stuart Pearce was standing on one of the lockers leading Ian Woan, Steve Hodge and Des Walker in an anti-Derby song," recalls McMinn.
"Nigel had retreated to the shower but was ordered out by his old man. He bowed his head like a pupil in front of the headmaster and complained about what I'd called him. But much to my amusement, Clough senior immediately took my side. 'Well,' he said, 'You are a daddy's boy and I think you should apologise to Mr McMinn. He deserves some respect after coming all the way from Derby to play a game of *football.' Nigel went bright red, mumbled an apology and shook my hand. His father then ushered me back to the away dressing room and wished me a pleasant trip back down the A52 … what a man!"
Before any Derby player starts to worry about what they might be in for, it is important to note Nigel has always taken more after his mother, Barbara, than the idiosyncratic icon who is now immortalised by Les Johnson's *brilliant statue in Nottingham's Old *Market Square. This much shone through at his introductory press conference at Pride Park last night before watching his new charges beat Manchester United when the man who has led Burton Albion from obscurity to the brink of the Football League handled himself in the usual impeccable fashion – polite, hospitable, with no vaporous cliches and eager to start work for real. "This might sound over the top," came the first question, "but is this a day of destiny?" Clough took a sip of water. "You're right," he smiled. "It is over the top."
He said he was "nervous" and revealed that he had spoken to his mother before accepting the job. "We had a long chat. I think she would be more concerned for the grandchildren than anything else."
And what would his father have thought of him taking over the club where he won the 1975 league title? "He might have said 'Don't be so stupid' but I hope it would have been a positive response. I just wish he was still around to give me some advice."
The comparisons with his father are inevitable and, naturally, it is difficult to imagine "the centre-forward" or "the No9" – Clough Sr would never refer to Nigel by name in a football environment – *spitting on the hand of one of his players, as the man who twice brought the European Cup to Nottingham did with Darren Wassall. Or asking pointed questions about the private life of a prospective new signing, as happened to Gary McAllister when he turned up at the City Ground in cowboy boots.
But more pertinently to Derby's current plight, what really matters is how Clough compares with the abysmal Paul Jewell, a man whose reign was so utterly *embarrassing that he will surely never manage a decent-sized club again. Jewell has taken the worst team in Premier League history to within five points of the *Championship's relegation zone. As Clough pointed out: "The priority is to get a point or three at Cardiff on Saturday."
His methods will be simple and can be summed by the song the Irish indie band Sultans of Ping FC dedicated to him during his playing days at Forest ("Give him a ball and a yard of grass/He'll give you a move with a perfect pass"). This philosophy should immediately endear him to Derby's fans after the witless drudgery of Jewell's tactics. Whereas Jewell picked fights, Nigel will cajole his players. They will be taught the old Clough principle of not arguing with referees and his new employers will never have to face the kind of salacious *tabloid headlines with which Jewell embarrassed the club.
Instead, Nigel promised to do it "my way" which, funnily enough, was exactly what his Sinatra-loving father used to say. Would there ever be a day when Nigel was seen as his own man rather than Brian Clough's son? "I don't think so and I hope not, because it will mean people have forgotten about him. But I don't think it will happen."
Nigel Clough cannot escape the comparisons but Derby can only hope he has Dad's spirit
As Nigel Clough gave a typically polite and thoughtful performance on his first day as Derby County's new manager it was difficult to imagine he was once so caught up in Nottingham Forest's rivalry with their old enemies that he found himself pinned up against a wall by his throat.
Ted McMinn, the former Derby player, tells the story of one particularly rancorous east Midlands derby at the City Ground when he was substituted among a hail of abuse from the home fans and Clough shouted "piss off" as he walked past him. McMinn yelled back "Daddy's boy" and was so incensed he waited in the tunnel to "lamp" his opponent at the final whistle.
Archie Gemmill split it up but the police got involved and when Brian Clough heard what had happened he went to find the guy who had been messing with his son. "He marched me into the Forest changing rooms where the players were downing beer and Stuart Pearce was standing on one of the lockers leading Ian Woan, Steve Hodge and Des Walker in an anti-Derby song," recalls McMinn.
"Nigel had retreated to the shower but was ordered out by his old man. He bowed his head like a pupil in front of the headmaster and complained about what I'd called him. But much to my amusement, Clough senior immediately took my side. 'Well,' he said, 'You are a daddy's boy and I think you should apologise to Mr McMinn. He deserves some respect after coming all the way from Derby to play a game of *football.' Nigel went bright red, mumbled an apology and shook my hand. His father then ushered me back to the away dressing room and wished me a pleasant trip back down the A52 … what a man!"
Before any Derby player starts to worry about what they might be in for, it is important to note Nigel has always taken more after his mother, Barbara, than the idiosyncratic icon who is now immortalised by Les Johnson's *brilliant statue in Nottingham's Old *Market Square. This much shone through at his introductory press conference at Pride Park last night before watching his new charges beat Manchester United when the man who has led Burton Albion from obscurity to the brink of the Football League handled himself in the usual impeccable fashion – polite, hospitable, with no vaporous cliches and eager to start work for real. "This might sound over the top," came the first question, "but is this a day of destiny?" Clough took a sip of water. "You're right," he smiled. "It is over the top."
He said he was "nervous" and revealed that he had spoken to his mother before accepting the job. "We had a long chat. I think she would be more concerned for the grandchildren than anything else."
And what would his father have thought of him taking over the club where he won the 1975 league title? "He might have said 'Don't be so stupid' but I hope it would have been a positive response. I just wish he was still around to give me some advice."
The comparisons with his father are inevitable and, naturally, it is difficult to imagine "the centre-forward" or "the No9" – Clough Sr would never refer to Nigel by name in a football environment – *spitting on the hand of one of his players, as the man who twice brought the European Cup to Nottingham did with Darren Wassall. Or asking pointed questions about the private life of a prospective new signing, as happened to Gary McAllister when he turned up at the City Ground in cowboy boots.
But more pertinently to Derby's current plight, what really matters is how Clough compares with the abysmal Paul Jewell, a man whose reign was so utterly *embarrassing that he will surely never manage a decent-sized club again. Jewell has taken the worst team in Premier League history to within five points of the *Championship's relegation zone. As Clough pointed out: "The priority is to get a point or three at Cardiff on Saturday."
His methods will be simple and can be summed by the song the Irish indie band Sultans of Ping FC dedicated to him during his playing days at Forest ("Give him a ball and a yard of grass/He'll give you a move with a perfect pass"). This philosophy should immediately endear him to Derby's fans after the witless drudgery of Jewell's tactics. Whereas Jewell picked fights, Nigel will cajole his players. They will be taught the old Clough principle of not arguing with referees and his new employers will never have to face the kind of salacious *tabloid headlines with which Jewell embarrassed the club.
Instead, Nigel promised to do it "my way" which, funnily enough, was exactly what his Sinatra-loving father used to say. Would there ever be a day when Nigel was seen as his own man rather than Brian Clough's son? "I don't think so and I hope not, because it will mean people have forgotten about him. But I don't think it will happen."
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