I know he was a "ledge" and all that but I think he was an awful human being who today would be considered a coercive controller and abuser on a massive scale, whose victims were (and some still are) suffering from a form of cult-member Stockholm syndrome - and I'm comfortably old enough to remember his entire managerial career as it was happening.
"Charismatic" monsters like David Koresh, Jim Jones and a certain presidential candidate come to mind.
I first came across him, one to one, in October1960 in the old Co-op shop on Royal Parade. They had a sports shop on the lower ground floor and Clough appeared there on the morning of a match against Argyle. Players were still only allowed to earn a maximum of ÂŁ20 per week so they augmented their income with advertising and personal appearances. There was a stage set up at one end and Clough was flanked by a player called Ray Yeoman and a former Argyle player, Ronnie Waldock. The event had attracted a lot of lads with autograph books, me included.
We all patiently queued as Clough and company took their places. One by one we filed forward to get our books signed. I had worked hard the previous evening and on the left side of a double foolscap page I had pictures of various Boro players, the biggest being one of Clough. On the right hand page I had drawn a grid in the 2-3-5 formation. I (politely) asked him to sign the picture "Best wishes" and over the number 9 on the grid. The response was a curt "One and one only sonny". I opted for the grid. I returned to the back of the queue and as I presented my book I got the same response - "I told you one and one only".
Me and another lad, I think he was called Skinner and he lived in Wake Street near the sorting office, swapped books. It was to no avail as he got a blast from Clough too. I left the Co-op and went to the ground. As he got off the coach I was there again but nothing doing. He looked at the book, looked at me and put the pen back on the book. After the game I go to the Grand Hotel. Even though they had flown down, Middlesbrough needed a two night stay. I can only assume that our airport was not capable of supporting night landing and take-off.
After what seemed an eternity, Clough emerged with a number of other players. They turned immediately right, through the pillars and to the Hoe, then left towards Smeaton's Tower, headed for the Barbican. He was walking with Kenneth Thomson, their centre half (who would later go to jail for his part in the match-fixing scandal orchestrated by our former player Jimmy Gauld). I asked Clough again to sign the picture but he just kept saying the same 'one and one only' line. The goalkeeper (Appelby?) was in a group close by and I heard him say "Come on Brian, just sign the lad's book." But Clough was having none of it.
Suddenly he stopped and, in that uncompromising way he had, said "Did your father not teach you any manners son?" I thought quickly and responded: "He died when I was seven, Mr Clough. So I cannot really remember much about him." That was quite deliberate from me. I thought that I had delivered the metaphorical arrow through the heart and that even this horrible man would relent - but he didn't. And his response - "Well that will account for your behaviour then." I honestly don't remember being rude. Determined, persistent, perhaps to the point of annoyance, but I was never rude or impolite.
So years later when Clough was presenting Trevor Francis with an award, live on TV, I was not at all surprised when he ridiculed Francis about having his hands in his pockets. I wasn't at all surprised when he interjected from the audience when Parkinson was interviewing Muhamad Ali, thinking he could verbally grapple with one of the fastest wits on the planet. When he mounted the live-on-TV attack on Alf Ramsey for sitting with the England doctor I was not surprised.
Fast forward 31 years from that night on Plymouth Hoe and I am back in Plymouth visiting my mother, who was terminally ill and had been given ten days to live. We talked about all manner of things in the week we spent together. After she was widowed she had developed a real fear of anyone being critical of my behaviour. She did not want anyone thinking that being without a father was a cause of poor behaviour on my part. And all those years later, with a few days of her life left, she recalled the incident with, in her words, "that beastly man Clough". She recalled how down she felt, five years on from my Dad's death, that someone should link the two events.
So MickyD, I am firmly in your camp. Your "Awful human being" sums him up for me. I was astounded how long my Mum had carried that event with her. I didn't like what happened at the time, but that was nothing to the anger I felt that night in Derriford 31 years later, that she had been horrified that I may have let her down in public.
www.theguardian.com
. The best manager England never had.