ONE GREAT... BOOK

Provided You Don’t Kiss Me: 20 years with Brian Clough (Duncan Hamilton)

WHEN his career was deep into its final innings at Nottingham Forest, Brian Clough invited his favoured journalist, Duncan Hamilton, back to his City Ground office. It was a meeting heavy in its pathos, with Clough’s grasp on his job loosened by weariness and alcohol, yet his innate intelligence was as razor-sharp as ever. He advised Hamilton that it was an interview that would serve two purposes, the first which the Post would carry as a news line the following day in which he would deny rumours that he was retiring at the end of the season; the second he advised would be of use when the journalist got around to writing a book about him. And when Hamilton, always fearful that he would baulk at the mention of a book, argued that he had no plans to do so, Clough set him right. ‘Journalists write books and you will write one about me.’ His instinct as to what motivated human beings helped make him the manager he was; one that would win league titles with Derby and Nottingham Forest, the latter whom he turned into two-time European Cup winners.

That perception also extended to knowing when his time was up ‘I’ve never been so depressed, so down. I’m getting older, the players are getting younger, the game is moving on. Even Clark Gable at the end had to accept he had a few wrinkles. I have to accept I am not as good as I was,’ he told Hamilton that same afternoon. That exchange is a perfect reflection of the honesty of this book, which critically, despite the relationship between author and Clough, does not shirk when reminding that behind a great manager was a flawed human being. It makes this a compelling read, the mood of which swings from the highs of Clough in his bombastic pomp to the lows of him stripped bare as a shrivelled-up man at the end. It is a great football book, but that is only the half of it.