"The great fallacy is that the game is first and last about winning. It is nothing of the kind. The game is about glory, it is about doing things in style and with a flourish, about going out and beating the other lot, not waiting for them to die of boredom." Danny Blanchflower
Bill eventually became Mr Tottenham Hotspur, and produced such a dazzling team at White Hart Lane that they won the double and played the game in a way that was an object lesson to everybody. Brian Clough
A Clough one you may like: “Bill eventually became Mr Tottenham Hotspur and got his team playing in such a dazzling style at White Hart Lane that they won the Double and were an object lesson to everybody .”
"If I had an argument with a player we would sit down for twenty minutes, talk about it and then decide I was right!" Brian Clough My academic/professional life.
Reporter: Is that your best start to a season? Gordon Strachan: Well I’ve still got a job so it’s far better than the Coventry one, that’s for sure.
"The ball is round and the game lasts 90 minutes. That's fact. Everything else is pure theory" - Sepp Herberger
At a press conference: Ready for some verbal sparring are we? What have you got for me this morning? What pile of **** have you got for me this morning? Mick McCarthy
Press Officer “Ready for the embargoed stuff now” MM “Is it embargoed? From who? Is it watershed, Under 16s stuff?” Journalist “It depends what you’re going to say” MM “Can I not swear here? I always drop one don’t I, at some stage” Journalist “It gets in the Guardian as well. No asterisks” MM “Does it? Ah well. Who’s writing for the Guardian then? Journalist “Stuart, but he’s stuck in traffic” MM “Ah well, **** him then”
Prior to the game, Shankly had received the United team sheet and he incorporated it into his team talk. His intention was to run us down and, in so doing, boost the confidence of his own players. 'Alex Stepney,' Shanks began. 'A flapper of a goalkeeper. Hands like a Teflon frying pan - non-stick. Right back, Shay Brennan. Slow on the turn, give him a roasting. Left back is Tony Dunne. Even slower than Brennan. He goes on an overlap at twenty past three and doesn't come back until a quarter to four. Right half, Nobby Stiles. A dirty little -beep-. Kick him twice as hard as he kicks you and you'll have no trouble with him.' 'Bill Foulkes, a big, cumbersome centre half who can't direct his headers. He had a head like a sheriff's badge, so play on him. Paddy Crerand. Slower than steam rising off a dog turd. You'll bypass him easily.' The Liverpool players felt as if they were growing in stature with his every word. 'David Sadler,' Shanks continued. 'Wouldn't get a place in our reserves. And finally, John Aston. A chicken, hit him once and you'll never hear from him again. As the manager finished his demolition job on United, Emlyn Hughes raised his hand. 'That's all very well, boss,' he said, 'but you haven't mentioned George Best, Denis Law or Bobby Charlton.' Shanks turned on him. 'You mean to tell me we can't beat a team that has only three players in it?' he said, glowering
