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THE NIGHT BRIAN CLOUGH'S CHEEKS WENT CRIMSON - By Ron Phillips

Discussion in 'Queens Park Rangers' started by Northolt-QPR, Dec 13, 2011.

  1. Northolt-QPR

    Northolt-QPR Active Member

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    THE NIGHT BRIAN CLOUGH'S CHEEKS WENT CRIMSON - By Ron Phillips

    We were playing Derby County at home on a dark evening. About 10 minutes after the game started, Derby County took the lead with a single goal. 5 minutes after that, all the floodlights went outk. I tried not to panic and phoned through to ask if Charlie Howard, the electrician, was on the job. They said "Yes", so I asked the P.A. announcer to put out a soothing announcement. He did so. Another 15 minutes went past and we were still in pitch darkness.

    Poor Charlie Howard was sweating over our 19th Century lights and just couldn't get them on. A steward dashed into my office yelling "The Derby Manager wants to see you!" The Derby Manager was Brian Clough. I decided that I didn't want to see him, so I told the steward to advise Mr Clough that I couldn't get away from my office and the electrician would soon have the lights back on. I must have been insane.

    5 minutes later, the steward was back in the office with a message from Mr. Clough to the effect that, if I didn't get down to his dressing room immediately, he would come up to my office and drag me down by the scruff of my neck. I decided to visit Mr. Clough in his dressing room.

    He had no idea who I was but, when I went into the Derby County dressing room, he must have guessed. He was sitting with a bunch of their players but, when he saw me, he stood up and came straight at me, eventually bodily pushing me out into the corridor. Then he started yelling at me, his nose practically touching mine, shouting insults in that strange voice of his.

    It was a particularly unpleasant attack because he was suffering from that acne rosacea which disfigured his face so much that he later had to give up football. His face was flushed dark crimson and his eyes were practically popping out of his head. He screamed at me so loudly that I could hardly make out what he was saying. I gathered it was something to the effect that he knew exactly what game I was playing; I had sabotaged the floodlights because Derby County were ahead. He had seen other clubs try this on and he had dealt with the Secretaries to make sure they never worked again. Unless I got the floodlights back on immediately, I was going to regret it for the rest of my life. Etc., etc., etc.

    This went on for a solid 5 minutes and he had me backed against a wall, so that I was totally unable to escape. I can still remember that enormous crimson face, and inch away from mine, screaming and screaming at me. Heaven alone knows what would have happened if Charlie had not achieved a miracle: the lights came back on. Brian Clough turned away from me as if absolutely nothing had happened and called his team out lof the dressing room and onto the pitch.

    He never spoke another word to me. Until the night I drove Stan Bowles up to Nottingham Forest for his transfer. Then Brian Clough, now the Nottingham Forest Manager, greeted me like an old friend and spent the evening chatting to me and plying me with drinks in the Board Room, while he completely ignored Stan Bowles standing in the corner.

    I'm convinced the reason he didn't recognise me was that, all the time he was shouting at me, he must have been blind with rage.

    At one time, JIm Gregory was toying with the idea of asking Brian Clough to take over Rangers. Thank heaven the idea never went ahead.
     
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  2. Northolt-QPR

    Northolt-QPR Active Member

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    please log in to view this image
     
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  3. Northolt-QPR

    Northolt-QPR Active Member

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    ANOTHER FINE MESS YOU'VE GOT ME INTO, STANLEY
    By Ron Phillips

    During the 7 years Stan Bowles was at QPR, I often used to remark that he and I would be buried in the same grave one day. During those years, Stan was forever dogging my heels, walking into my office, encountering me in the street and always, but always, asking for a "sub" on his wages.

    The first intimation of what life would be like with Stan was when we signed him from Carlisle United in 1972. Manager Gordon Jago had phoned me at 4 a.m. to ask me to meet him at Euston: we were off to sign "a brilliant new player" from Carlisle. So I was rather short of sleep when I first met Stan but I recall him as being one of the nicest players ever to join Rangers, extremely well brought up, with a charming personality and scrupulously polite to everyone he met.

    The transfer deal was completed remarkably quickly and, as Gordon and I were leaving the club to catch a train back to London, Stan asked me if I could spare a moment. He wanted a £20 sub "to clear up a few things before he left Carlisle". As he was entitled to a large percentage of his transfer deal, I gave it to him without a thought. Back in London, he needed another sub the next day. And the next. And the next.

    As I subsequently learned (and as he has always admitted himself) Stan was an inveterate gambler and, as a result, was constantly short of money. The problem was compounded in his case, however, as he didn't get much money in the first place. A malicious judge had made a maintenance order against him when he got divorced, which entailed giving rather more money to his ex-wife than he actually earned from Rangers. As Stan's employer, I had to take the case back to court to inform the judge that Football League regulations prevented us from paying out more money than was provided for in his contract. The judge grudgingly relented and changed the award to one which exactly removed every penny of Stan's wages.

    The case was widely reported in the media and I was depicted as a heartless so-and-so who had grabbed back the pittance Stan was giving his ex-wife. One could picture me calling at her house every morning to snatch the cornflakes out of the mouths of his children. As a result, I attracted the unwelcome attention of the Feminists.

    I started receiving sackloads of mail each day from women who threatened unspeakable things they would do to me unless I started paying more money to Mrs Bowles. One afternoon, my secretary came into my office to advise me not to leave the club by the front entrance. "Why?" I asked. "Because there's a woman outside hiding behind a wall with a brick" was the answer. I left the club for some time thereafter by walking across the pitch and out of the Ellerslie Road entrance. As far as I know, the woman with a brick is still hiding behind that wall.

    From that time onwards, a day without Stan desperately requiring a sub was a rare occurrence. On one occasion, a home game was taking place in which QPR were winning 1-0 at half time. A few minutes after the half time whistle, Stan dashed into my office in full match strip, asking if he could have a sub for the match bonus. I said "But Stan, we haven't won yet!" He replied "Don't worry, Mr Phillips - I'll win it for you!" And sure enough he did, scoring a superb goal to achieve this.

    After the match, I gave Stan his sub. I stress that he was entitled to this win bonus - he never asked for or received an illegal payment.

    The pressure on me intensified, however, when Stan Bowles was joined by his mate, Don Shanks, a good player who was almost as great a supporter of the gambling industry as Stan. I had formed the habit of leaving my office cautiously to see if Stan was lurking anywhere. If I spotted him at the end of the corridor, I would leave the club as fast as possible in the other direction.

    One lunchtime my secretary whispered to me on the intercom that there was no escape that day: Stan Bowles was waiting at her end of the corridor and Don Shanks had staked out the other end. I would have to pass by one of them and, faced with a combination of Don Shanks' persuasive talents and Stan Bowles' charm, I would end up forking out a sub to them.

    There was only one way out: through the window. My office was on the first floor of the South Africa Road stand, about 20 feet above the pavement. There was a sheer drop beneath me but I could see a few handholds in the bricks ..... I decided to try it. A pity no Fleet Street photographer was around that day to capture the sight of the Secretary of one of the Football League's top clubs leaving his office by a slightly unorthodox route. I made it intact and took off at high speed for White City tube station. Don and Stan waited another hour or two before my secretary advised them they weren't going to get a sub this time.

    Came the day when Stan concluded his glorious career at QPR and we sold him to Nottingham Forest. By coincidence, it fell to me to drive him up to Nottingham and hand him over to his new manager, Brian Clough. The journey was a dangerous one: we had picked a night when a howling blizzard made driving along the motorway very tricky indeed. At one moment, when my windscreen became covered in sleet and the wipers stopped working, I recalled my joke that I would be buried with Stan Bowles.

    But we eventually made it and I took Stan in to meet Brian Clough. It was a most peculiar meeting: Mr Clough completely ignored Stan, his most valuable new signing, and spent 20 minutes talking to me and offering me drinks. I eventually escaped, saying goodbye to Stan and thanking him for all he had done for Rangers.

    As I drove away, I fancied I heard Stan asking his new secretary for a sub.
     
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  4. Tramore Ranger

    Tramore Ranger Well-Known Member
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    Great stories, you wouldn't find anything like that happening these days!!!

    Must admit i don't remember the Derby incident but i do remember a similar fate against Leeds in our first season in Div 1, 68/69. In those days the floodlights were only put on half power until just before kick off then switched to full power, however the Leeds match kicked off with the lights only on half power and within 2 minutes Leeds score and just as the ball hits the back of the net the floodlights are switched to full, it was so gloomy nobody could see what was happening until the Leeds players celebrated, needless to say we lost 1-0.
     
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  5. NorwayRanger

    NorwayRanger Well-Known Member

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    Lovely reading Northolt! Where have you found it? Are Ron Phillips memoires out???
     
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  6. Northolt-QPR

    Northolt-QPR Active Member

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    gramps is posting these on report, the Bowles one is good eh!
     
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  7. NorwayRanger

    NorwayRanger Well-Known Member

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    It's bloody brilliant! I get all these mental images of Bowles lurking round the corner waiting for Ron <laugh>
     
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  8. rebel not taken

    rebel not taken Active Member

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    Ron Phillips was a brilliant and charming man.
    I worked in his office 1970-1972 during Jim Gregory's reign when i left school.
    He was an old school 'gentleman' and all the players used to wind him up non stop.
     
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  9. QPR Oslo

    QPR Oslo Well-Known Member

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    Lovely humour, nearly fell out of me chair when I read the bit about him wondering if the woman was still hiding behind the wall with the brick <laugh>, reminds me of me first ex!
     
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  10. QPR999

    QPR999 Well-Known Member
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    What a great read. Very enjoyable.
     
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