Had Derek Dougan been just a few years older, who knows what Northern Ireland might have achieved in the finals of the 1958 World Cup in Sweden. To get there at all was an astonishing feat, knocking out Italy on the way. But a mature Dougan rather than the gangling 19-year-old might have made all the difference.
Dougan, who has died aged 69, was then the highly promising centre forward for Portsmouth. He was not Northern Ireland's first choice, but Billy Simpson, the Glasgow Rangers centre forward, had pulled a muscle after just five minutes' training in Sweden, leaving Dougan to lead the attack in the first game against the Czechs, which the Irish won 1-0. Tall, agile, technically adroit, making good use of his height in the air, Dougan did not disgrace himself that day.
His career in football, variously as player, chairman of the Professional Footballers' Association and chairman of Wolverhampton Wanderers, was at once successful and controversial. Fluent to a fault, humorous, alert and plausible, he made as many foes as friends. There was always something of the maverick, the impulsive opportunist, about him. In 1979, he said of the ever ebullient and contentious Scottish manager, Tommy Docherty: "If he survives at Derby, it will be a remarkable feat. But he won't do it through his gift for repartee or off-the-cuff insults." Five years later, Docherty was managing Wolves while Dougan was chairman. They were not wholly dissimilar.
Dougan, in fact, never managed a club but played for many, beginning, in 1954, with Distillery of Belfast, the city where he was born. His second season with Portsmouth saw him transferred to Blackburn Rovers where, as his physical strength increased so did his prowess.
In his first full season, 1959-60, he helped Rovers to reach the FA Cup final, versus Wolves, which made him seem quite a bargain at £11,000. But on the day of the final, the Doog, as he was nicknamed, suddenly demanded a transfer. Blackburn, losing their full back Dave Whelan with a broken leg, lost 3-0.
The 6ft 3in Dougan did not get his transfer until he had played another full season for Blackburn, then signed for Aston Villa. Overall, these were not happy days. "When I arrived at Aston Villa," he would later write, "it was like joining a Guards Regiment. At first the atmosphere was overpowering. I was with a great club and it's not easy to live up to such greatness. At the same time I enjoyed the stimulus and the challenge. It wasn't until much later, after I had left Villa, that I realised the peril of leaning too much on tradition. Villa were so mesmerised by past glories that they could not see what was happening to them until it was too late. Tradition was romanticised - a fatal mistake."
You might say that Dougan was a "new footballer" before that being was invented. The truth was that his form fell away at Villa Park, to such an extent that when he was transferred in 1963, this time it was, humiliatingly, to an obscure third division club, Peterborough United. There he languished for two seasons until he was rescued by Leicester City, who bought him for £25,000 in 1965.
Rejuvenated, he regained his place in the Northern Ireland side. Then Wolves bought him for double what Leicester had paid at the tail end of 1966-67. He stayed a Wolves player until 1976.
Yet he remained an enigma. How could so seemingly rational, objective and eloquent a footballer occasionally commit such fearful fouls? And once, late in 1969, in a Wolves versus Everton match, he got himself suspended for eight games for swearing at a linesman.
With his fellow Wolves players, he was not, it was said, a popular figure. Where many found him persuasive and intelligent, others tended to see him as arrogant and opinionated. There was a significant moment in the warm-up before an FA Cup semi-final. Steve Kindon - then a young left winger, later to make Dougan imitations the essence of his after-dinner speaking - drove in a shot which hit Dougan in the genitals and knocked him out. The other players, far from sympathising, stood around laughing, as did Sammy Chung, the trainer, when he ran on the field to help Dougan.
Dougan always had ambitions that went beyond football, and with the help of a loyal lieutenant he produced various books about the game, including a novel, The Footballer (1974), much of which appeared to recount his feud with the Wolves manager, Bill McGarry.
In 1982, Dougan became chairman of Wolves, by then in deep financial difficulty. "This is your club now," he told the fans. "I love you all. I am going to come amongst you." Eight years earlier, he had written: "One wonders what some businesses would be like if they were run on the same haphazard lines as most football clubs still are. The amateur director has been kicked out of most industrial boardrooms, but not in football."
Alas, things would quickly go wrong. The Asian businessmen of Allied Properties who had bought Wolves failed to revive them, leading John Bird, the leader of Wolverhampton council, to lament, after a 5-1 defeat by Watford in 1983: "They have brought this town into disrepute, making Wolverhampton the butt of every comedian's jokes. We must have a talk as soon as possible to find out where Allied Properties' interests lie. On Saturday's performance, it is not in football."
So Dougan's chairmanship came to a premature and disappointing end. Smoke without fire? Perhaps, but he remained, above all as a player, one of the most magnetic figures of his day.
In December 2005, he was one of the coffin carriers at George Best's funeral. He was also a representative of the UK Independence party.
He is survived by two sons.
· Alexander Derek Dougan, footballer, born January 20 1938; died June 23 2007
Comments
He appeared on Questiontime a year or two ago.
RIP
Love to read that book as well.
RIP.
RIP
Monday June 25, 2007
The Guardian
Had Derek Dougan been just a few years older, who knows what Northern Ireland might have achieved in the finals of the 1958 World Cup in Sweden. To get there at all was an astonishing feat, knocking out Italy on the way. But a mature Dougan rather than the gangling 19-year-old might have made all the difference.
Dougan, who has died aged 69, was then the highly promising centre forward for Portsmouth. He was not Northern Ireland's first choice, but Billy Simpson, the Glasgow Rangers centre forward, had pulled a muscle after just five minutes' training in Sweden, leaving Dougan to lead the attack in the first game against the Czechs, which the Irish won 1-0. Tall, agile, technically adroit, making good use of his height in the air, Dougan did not disgrace himself that day.
His career in football, variously as player, chairman of the Professional Footballers' Association and chairman of Wolverhampton Wanderers, was at once successful and controversial. Fluent to a fault, humorous, alert and plausible, he made as many foes as friends. There was always something of the maverick, the impulsive opportunist, about him. In 1979, he said of the ever ebullient and contentious Scottish manager, Tommy Docherty: "If he survives at Derby, it will be a remarkable feat. But he won't do it through his gift for repartee or off-the-cuff insults." Five years later, Docherty was managing Wolves while Dougan was chairman. They were not wholly dissimilar.
Dougan, in fact, never managed a club but played for many, beginning, in 1954, with Distillery of Belfast, the city where he was born. His second season with Portsmouth saw him transferred to Blackburn Rovers where, as his physical strength increased so did his prowess.
In his first full season, 1959-60, he helped Rovers to reach the FA Cup final, versus Wolves, which made him seem quite a bargain at £11,000. But on the day of the final, the Doog, as he was nicknamed, suddenly demanded a transfer. Blackburn, losing their full back Dave Whelan with a broken leg, lost 3-0.
The 6ft 3in Dougan did not get his transfer until he had played another full season for Blackburn, then signed for Aston Villa. Overall, these were not happy days. "When I arrived at Aston Villa," he would later write, "it was like joining a Guards Regiment. At first the atmosphere was overpowering. I was with a great club and it's not easy to live up to such greatness. At the same time I enjoyed the stimulus and the challenge. It wasn't until much later, after I had left Villa, that I realised the peril of leaning too much on tradition. Villa were so mesmerised by past glories that they could not see what was happening to them until it was too late. Tradition was romanticised - a fatal mistake."
You might say that Dougan was a "new footballer" before that being was invented. The truth was that his form fell away at Villa Park, to such an extent that when he was transferred in 1963, this time it was, humiliatingly, to an obscure third division club, Peterborough United. There he languished for two seasons until he was rescued by Leicester City, who bought him for £25,000 in 1965.
Rejuvenated, he regained his place in the Northern Ireland side. Then Wolves bought him for double what Leicester had paid at the tail end of 1966-67. He stayed a Wolves player until 1976.
Yet he remained an enigma. How could so seemingly rational, objective and eloquent a footballer occasionally commit such fearful fouls? And once, late in 1969, in a Wolves versus Everton match, he got himself suspended for eight games for swearing at a linesman.
With his fellow Wolves players, he was not, it was said, a popular figure. Where many found him persuasive and intelligent, others tended to see him as arrogant and opinionated. There was a significant moment in the warm-up before an FA Cup semi-final. Steve Kindon - then a young left winger, later to make Dougan imitations the essence of his after-dinner speaking - drove in a shot which hit Dougan in the genitals and knocked him out. The other players, far from sympathising, stood around laughing, as did Sammy Chung, the trainer, when he ran on the field to help Dougan.
Dougan always had ambitions that went beyond football, and with the help of a loyal lieutenant he produced various books about the game, including a novel, The Footballer (1974), much of which appeared to recount his feud with the Wolves manager, Bill McGarry.
In 1982, Dougan became chairman of Wolves, by then in deep financial difficulty. "This is your club now," he told the fans. "I love you all. I am going to come amongst you." Eight years earlier, he had written: "One wonders what some businesses would be like if they were run on the same haphazard lines as most football clubs still are. The amateur director has been kicked out of most industrial boardrooms, but not in football."
Alas, things would quickly go wrong. The Asian businessmen of Allied Properties who had bought Wolves failed to revive them, leading John Bird, the leader of Wolverhampton council, to lament, after a 5-1 defeat by Watford in 1983: "They have brought this town into disrepute, making Wolverhampton the butt of every comedian's jokes. We must have a talk as soon as possible to find out where Allied Properties' interests lie. On Saturday's performance, it is not in football."
So Dougan's chairmanship came to a premature and disappointing end. Smoke without fire? Perhaps, but he remained, above all as a player, one of the most magnetic figures of his day.
In December 2005, he was one of the coffin carriers at George Best's funeral. He was also a representative of the UK Independence party.
He is survived by two sons.
· Alexander Derek Dougan, footballer, born January 20 1938; died June 23 2007