It’s 17 years to the day since Brian Clough, Nottingham Forest’s greatest ever manager, sadly passed away at the relatively young age of 69.
Cloughie’s rosy cheeked image is undoubtedly adorned on more mantlepieces across Nottinghamshire than any other individuals. A man whose legacy, reputation, and surrounding cult of personality are so strong they live on in generations too young to have ever seen him finger wagging on the touchline or hear his warming Teesside tones.
His name echoes around the City Ground at every home game, The “Brian Clough Trophy” is ceremoniously lifted whenever The East Midlands Derby takes place, and the contours of his instantly identifiable figure (and iconic green jumper) stand, cast forever in Bronze, less than 20 feet from the heart of the city, outside Nottingham’s City Hall.
Never has a place loved an individual as much as Nottingham loves “the greatest English manager to never manage England”. And for good reason.
He lifted the club from mediocrity (6th from bottom) in the, then, Football League’s Second Division, past the, now, seemingly insurmountable roadblock that is promotion, and steered them to their first, and only, First Division title.
One year later, he led them to their first European Cup trophy.
The year after, a second followed…
Only the second English club to win two in a row. A truly unbelievable achievement and one that was unparalleled until Leicester’s 2016 title win (and lets be honest, it’s still not a scratch on it, is it?).
His tenure on the Trent lasted 18 years. It wasn’t always glorious (a gutless relegation fight in his final season certainly put a temporary dampener on things) but the man did more for Nottingham than any Prime Minister has ever managed to do, and he left a legacy within the beautiful game, and at the City Ground, that’s only comparable to that of the great Sir Alex Ferguson’s reign at Manchester United (but even they had prior success before his arrival).
The ‘Old Big Ed’s triumphs have resulted in Forest consistently topping Championship attendance figures (despite sitting bottom of the table), a top tier Championship stadium, an appealing history to potential signings and managers, a spate of several wealthy owners, and one of the best academies in the league.
it’s not just the fans that benefitted from Brian’s success either. Forest’s reign as a top-flight side led to millions of pounds of investment and revenue in to the once rough and neglected working-class city of Nottingham, mirrored by Leicester City’s recent success and the subsequent, continued improvement of it’s city centre and surrounding hamlets.
So, you see then, why Forest fans, and Nottingham residents, have spent the best part of 30 years looking backwards, living off scraps, and praying for some semblance of Cloughie’s inviolable foundations to materialise (although I’m sure the majority would be happy with finishing 17th this season), and why they’ve had a particularly short fuse when it comes to managers (more than any other club since his resignation in May of 1993).
The fans, and board, still have 1980s aspirations. And that is genuinely a good thing. Far too many other club’s boards have been inactive at crucial moments when the exact opposite was needed, and they’ve veered over the cliff of relegation, never to be seen in the Championship again.
Replacing an icon is an impossible task and, by god, have Forest tried. They’re still trying. The expected announcement of former Swansea and England under 17s boss, Steve Cooper, marks their 28th manager in 17 years – I doubt many McDonald’s have a higher staff turnover.
For far too long there’s been more than mist rolling in from the Trent, but Cooper arrives with an air of vagility and hope from the more knowledgeable fans (a manager that plays attacking, 3 at the back football). He may, finally, be the man to restore some pride at the City Ground and do Brian proud.
If only he was here to shake his hand and greet him:
“Young man, the city of Nottingham care about one thing and one thing only. Playing attractive football, on the ground”
Millions miss him every day.
Matt Adkin 