Denis Law

by Alex Gordon

  Lennox also recalled Law’s generous side when he agreed to travel to Fife to play in a posthumous testimonial match staged in the winter of 1974 for John Lunn, the Dunfermline defender who had been diagnosed with leukaemia and had sadly died of the disease the previous year. ‘A team was put together to play Dunfermline and there were five players each from Celtic and Rangers – plus Denis Law,’ Lennox said. ‘I thought it was a fine gesture from Denis, who had actually retired just three months or so before, to travel up to Fife for that occasion. That typified the man.’

  Former Celtic manager and player Davie Hay admitted, ‘Denis was my boyhood hero when I was growing up in Paisley. Back then, you didn’t get anything like the media coverage we have these days. We knew Denis had gone off to play in Italy with Torino and that sounded very adventurous. A Scot playing in the Italian League? It was unusual back then and it’s still unusual nowadays. The difference between, say, Joe Jordan playing for AC Milan and Graeme Souness with Sampdoria in the eighties, is that we knew what was happening with them. In the early sixties, Denis might as well have been playing on the moon. He had gone into uncharted territory, but I’m not surprised that he took on the challenge.

  ‘Denis, quite rightly, had a great belief in his ability. It was a joy to spend some time in his company. Denis was just a down-to-earth character and it wasn’t an act. I called him an ordinary superstar. He was liked by everyone and joined in with the lads when we went for a pint. You had to remind yourself sometimes that you were actually mixing with a true soccer great.

  ‘Who could ever forget the high jinks in Largs one crazy morning – I believe it was around 4 or 5 a.m., but I can’t be sure – in 1974 when my wee mate Jimmy Johnstone was cut adrift on a boat? It would be fair to say a few ales had been partaken by several of the lads, Denis among them. Someone mischievously pushed out the rowing boat – Sandy Jardine has since owned up – and there was Jinky singing his head off as he headed towards Millport. Then, suddenly, it dawned on Jinky he didn’t have any oars. He was genuinely alarmed as the boat drifted away from the shore. Denis was one of the first to spot his pal was in trouble. “He’s not joking,” said Denis. “He needs help.” Now, I know Denis isn’t a big fan of water, so he was staying put on land. Erich Schaedler, the Hibs full-back, and I jumped into another of the little rowing boats. Our judgement was out a bit – this one had a huge hole in it. We didn’t get too far. Eventually, the coastguard was called in to save wee Jinky. Denis, like the rest of us who were involved, can still laugh at that memory today.

  ‘However, the SFA officials were far from pleased with us. We were due to play England at Hampden in a few days’ time and they frowned on such behaviour. There was talk of Jinky being sent home. It didn’t come to that, thank goodness. In fact, they would have been struggling to put out a team at Hampden on the Saturday because so many of us were involved. Willie Ormond played the Wee Man against the English and, as you might expect, my Celtic pal was unstoppable that afternoon. He put in a marvellous shift and we won 2-0. I recall Jinky swapping shirts with England goalkeeper Peter Shilton and then running to the trackside to look up at the press box. He was unhappy at their reporting of events in Largs and gave them the two-fingered salute. Or was he just reminding them we had scored two goals that day? Denis didn’t play in that game which was a shame because it was a perfect setting for the Lawman.’

  Johnstone, who sadly passed away at the age of 61 on 13 March 2006 after a five-year battle with motor neurone disease, once recalled a great act of kindness by Law. The little Celtic winger had played in a 3-2 Home International win over Wales at Hampden, but hadn’t performed at his best. Rangers fans in the ground set up a chant of ‘Willie Henderson . . . Willie Henderson’ for their own outside-right, a direct rival for Johnstone’s position in the team. Johnstone, after winning only his sixth cap, was disillusioned. Injury prevented Law from playing that evening, but he was still at Hampden to watch the action. Afterwards at the Central Hotel, in Glasgow, where the Scots were staying, Johnstone recalled Law coming over to him, saying, ‘Well done, Wee Man, you were brilliant.’ The Celtic winger said, ‘I knew otherwise, of course, but I will always be grateful to Denis for that gesture. I could have crawled into a hole and no-one would have noticed that night. But Denis tried to buck me up and it was a great tonic.’

  Gigi Peronace, the Italian agent who lured Law and Joe Baker to Torino in 1961, said, ‘They cost around £100,000 each, big money for British players in those days and they convinced the Turin public that their old great team was back. The speed and technical brilliance of Law reminded the supporters of their former hero, Valentino Mazzola. They had never seen anyone quite as quick-thinking as Denis. He was always two or three moves ahead. It was a pity he only stayed a year.’

  Tommy Gemmell, Celtic’s legendary left-back, has interesting memories of Denis. He said, ‘When we were down at the Ayrshire resort of Largs preparing for international games I was always amazed at the amount of tea Denis consumed. He must have downed gallons of the stuff. He always seemed to have a cup in his hand and a wonderful old lady called Mrs Gamley used to run the Queen’s Hotel where we stayed. She always made sure there was a fresh brew for “Oor Denis”. If you saw someone wandering around with a pot of tea you knew who it was for. And did he like his lamb chops with mint sauce? I’m sure Denis would only ever have eaten lamb chops every day if he could have got away with it. What a staple diet – lamb chops washed down by oceans of tea. It certainly didn’t do him any harm, did it?

  ‘For all his fame, Denis was a very unassuming type of guy. He never wanted to take centre stage and was happy just to be a bit-part player off the field. That changed, though, when he crossed that white line and went onto the football pitch. Then he was in his element; that’s where he was at his happiest. People have told me they thought he was arrogant. I don’t believe that for a minute. He was very comfortable in what he did and he was most certainly a showman, but I don’t think he was a show-off and I believe there is a massive difference between both. I never saw him belittle an opponent or rub their nose in it although he certainly possessed the ability and talent to do so. That wasn’t his style.

  ‘He was always a great teammate and I’ll tell you something else, he had a brother, his name was Joe, who was also very handy to know. He just happened to be the buffet attendant on the Aberdeen to Glasgow rail run. When Celtic were coming back from games at Pittodrie, Jock Stein would let us have a couple of drinks, especially if we had won and we didn’t have a midweek fixture. I’m not saying we went over the score, but Denis’s brother made sure we were well looked after, if you catch my drift.

  ‘As everyone knows, Denis is a proud Scot. He even made his wife Diana travel across the border to give birth to their kids to make sure they could play for Scotland some day. Remember, these were the years before FIFA relaxed the rule and allowed players to turn out for the countries of the origin of their parents or grandparents. Denis wasn’t taking any chances and happily made that journey with a heavily pregnant Diana on a few occasions.

  ‘How much would Denis be worth in today’s transfer market? Think of an astronomical figure and multiply by any number you want. The £115,000 Manchester United paid Torino for him in 1962 must be the best money they have ever spent on any player in their history. They’ve splashed out millions in recent years, but, in terms of genuine ability, no-one can come anywhere near Denis. He was the bargain of the century. I’m told United weren’t quite flush when they made their original move for Denis and they were offered a helping hand from a local bookie. If that’s true, there should be a plaque somewhere at Old Trafford to honour that bloke.

  ‘I loved playing in the same side as Denis. He never hid even if he wasn’t having one of his most memorable outings. That’s the sign of a great player. I’ve seen individuals disappear into an air pocket if they are struggling a wee bit. You are aware they don’t want the ball. Not Denis. He always got stuck in and was always around to bail out a
teammate if he was in trouble. He was one of the most unselfish players I have ever witnessed.

  ‘We were both very upset one day following a 1-0 defeat from Northern Ireland in Belfast back in 1967 after his Manchester United pal George Best had taken Scotland apart. A photograph appeared on the front page of a national newspaper under the headline: ‘WHAT ARE THEY LAUGHING AT?’ There was Denis and I coming off the Windsor Park pitch looking as though we were actually smiling after getting turned over. Who says the camera never lies? I don’t know if it was a trick of the light or whatever, but I can assure you we were not laughing. It was probably a rueful sigh after watching George Best go through his repertoire that afternoon. When George was in the mood he was unstoppable. Unfortunately for us he was well up for that match against Scotland. No doubt Denis would have had a word with his Old Trafford mate afterwards, possibly not a complimentary one, either. But if anyone looking at that photograph thought we didn’t give a stuff about playing for Scotland they clearly didn’t know Denis. Or me, for that matter. I’ve seen Denis unhappy in the dressing room afterwards following a win. He was a bit of a perfectionist and would run through walls for his country.’

  Gemmell also recalled a story related to him by Joe Baker, Law’s teammate during his unhappy spell at Torino. ‘Joe was my assistant manager at Albion Rovers and he told me of his time in Italy where he shared an apartment with Denis. Joe had been driving when he and Denis were involved in a car crash in Turin, but, thankfully, they escaped without serious injury, although there were still little scars on Joe’s face years later. Joe told me about just how desperate Denis was to quit the club and get out of the country. Torino, with FIFA’s backing, were threatening to kick him out of the game if he didn’t honour his contract which, Joe believed, was the same as his and probably bound them to the club forever! There was even talk of Torino selling on his contract to Juventus without his permission. At that time, according to Joe, Denis seriously thought about emigrating to Australia or South Africa and continuing his career in one of those countries. Back in 1962, neither of those nations were affiliated with FIFA, so there would have been no playing restrictions on Denis. However, it would have been helluva difficult, if not impossible, for Denis ever to get back into mainstream football. He could have been lost to the game for all time.’

  Gemmell continued, ‘Joe told me even he didn’t know that his mate was about to do a runner. “I came back from training one day and there was no sign of Denis,” said Joe. “There was a little scribbled note on the table informing me that he was going home. Just like that. Then I discovered he had taken a taxi to Milan before boarding a flight to London and then onto Aberdeen. I was on my own. It wasn’t long, though, before Arsenal came in for me and I would join Denis back in the English First Division.”’

  Gigi Peronace was also involved in the deal to get Law to Manchester United, but not without the help of a journalist by the name of Jim Rodger. Known as ‘The Jolly’ to his colleagues, Jim was a bit of a Mr Fixit. Footballers called him ‘Scoop’. I got to know him well during my career and I admit I was in awe of the man. He was with the Daily Express when I started at the Daily Record in 1967 and he seemed to have a fabulous exclusive every second day. He was a friend of Matt Busby and, with his stunning array of contacts, he got involved in trying to solve the Law predicament. Busby wanted Law, but also admitted he had thought of pulling out after being ‘messed about’ by the Italians. The Jolly was soon on the scene. A phone call here, a phone call there and weeks of anxiety and frustration were over for Law. My old mate telephoned the player to tell him Peronace was on his way to England and he was to meet him at the Midland Hotel in Manchester. A day or so later, Denis Law was a Manchester United player.

  The Aberdonian in Law must have been in evidence before he signed for United in July 1962. Busby, of course, had unhesitatingly agreed to pay the £115,000 transfer fee to take him to Old Trafford. Everyone was only too aware that Law, after just one year, was thoroughly sick to his back teeth with football in Italy and was eager to return to Britain. But he wasn’t going to sell himself short. Contract negotiations with Busby went on for two gruelling hours before personal terms were agreed. A weary Busby said afterwards, ‘There’s a lad who knows his own value.’ Years later, the legendary Manchester United manager summed up the player best of all when he stated simply, ‘Denis Law, an all-time great.’

  George Best realised what Scotland meant to his mate. He once famously observed, ‘I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear Denis Law had been dressed in lederhosen and standing in the West Germany end at Wembley the day England won the World Cup in 1966. The Scots always support two teams – Scotland and anyone playing against England. Denis was no different.’

  Chapter Two

  THE BOY WHO WOULD BE KING

  This is the story of a gawky, short-sighted, skinny wee guy who would go on to conquer the world of football and become one of the most-loved sportsmen in his nation’s history.

  Denis Law had developed a dreadful squint in one eye in early childhood and was forced to wear corrective glasses from the age of five. All but one of his three brothers and three sisters suffered from the same affliction. ‘Without the glasses my eye just went straight into the corner and I looked even worse,’ said Law. ‘I felt desperately self-conscious about my squint, so much so that I kept my glasses on as much as I could, even when I was playing football in the street. Every so often, though, the glasses would get smashed, exposing me to taunts and ridicule. Children, as we all know, can be the cruellest people in the world.’

  Silver spoons were not in plentiful supply when Law was born on 24 February 1940 at the family home, a council-owned tenement block at 6 Printfield Terrace, Woodside, Aberdeen. He was the youngest of a family of seven. Back then, such a size of family was not unusual. His father, George, was one of 14, his mother, Robina, one of 12. Robina was already 41 years old when Denis was born. In family order, the Law siblings were Robina (known as Ruby) who was 15 years older than Denis, Frances, 13 years older, Georgina, 11, John, nine, Joe, seven, and George, five. Dad, who would serve his country in two world wars, worked as a trawler man, and his mum was a cleaner at a school. It was expected that Denis would automatically follow in his father’s waders and make a living bobbing up and down on the North Sea catching fish. Thankfully, for football enthusiasts everywhere, that didn’t turn out to be the case. In fact, none of the Law children would take that route of employment. George got a job in a paper mill, Joe worked for the railways and John on the buses. Ruby, Frances and Georgina all married and became housewives.

  The Law family may have been poor, but they were proud. ‘It’s funny how common hardship seems to bind people together. None of us had very much of anything, but you certainly knew that the people next door were your friends,’ Law would say. His father worked long and weary hours and could be absent for up to three weeks if the fishing boat was heading for the Faroes. The wages were not great. In 1958, when Law made his debut for the Scotland international team, the weekly pay packet for a trawler man was only £10. Law recalled that meals often consisted of soup and pudding. ‘There was no middle course.’ Meat was a luxury and when it was on the menu it was normally a Sunday and was reserved for Denis’s dad. An infrequent treat for Denis and the family would be Scottish pies with a bit of gravy and mince. Mum was too proud and would never apply for free school meals or free boots that were available for people on low incomes.

  Law remembered walking to school wearing only black canvas plimsolls even in the dead of a snowbound winter. And it can get cold in the Granite City. ‘It was all we could afford.’ Denis would be 14 years old before he would get his first pair of proper shoes and another year older when he got his first suit. Until then, it was all hand-me-downs from friends and relatives. However, Law recalled that he and his brothers and sisters were always clean, neat and tidy and well turned out by their mum. Sunday night was bath night because that was the only time there was hot water. De
nis recalled that he washed and bathed in the sink most of the time. But he had the ‘luxury’ of an inside toilet while a lot of his pals had to go outside to the toilet in all sorts of elements.

  Law nominated English, science, geography and technical drawing as his best subjects at school. He rated himself ‘a fairly bright student’ and thought he might seek employment as a draughtsman. However, football, by now, was taking an iron-like grip, almost to the point of obsession. Law would go everywhere with a ball. On his way to school he would kick it against walls and then it would be into the playground for a kickabout with his mates. Back from school, Denis recalled playing in the streets until it was dark. While representing his school teams, he had to remove his glasses and, remarkably, taught himself to play with one eye closed.

  Well over half a century later, Denis Law returned to 6 Printfield Terrace as part of a Manchester United TV special, an hour devoted to, and entitled, Denis Law – The King. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he talked about his childhood. Law, standing outside the close, points to a downstairs window. Proudly, he states, ‘This is where it all began. That’s where I was born; in that very bedroom. There were three of us in a bed. We had three bedrooms, seven of us kids plus mum and dad.’ The smile spreads and he is obviously enjoying the moment. He sweeps his arm around. ‘This is where we played our football, on the streets. There was a lamppost here and that acted as a goalpost. We would put down a couple of jumpers over there and they would be another goalpost. About 50 yards over there (pointing down the street) we would put down another two jerseys. That was us ready to go.’ Law looks around to point to the downstairs window again. ‘Yeah, so that’s where I was born. Nice to be back.’