For Manchester United fans this season stays as the darkest ever. Finishing second to last and good bye First Division. Relegation! The name of the enemy is engraved in the minds of the fans for ever – Tommy Docherty. The louse! Of course, hardly anybody counts that Docherty saved United from relegation the year before. Dark years… only 5 years after winning the European Champions Cup – down to the nobodies. Bobby Charlton gone, Dennis Law gone, George Best gone, Matt Busby gone… and First Division gone.

Going down…
Top, left to right: Arnold Sidebottom, Steve James, Alex Stepney, Jimmy Rimer, Jim Holton, Peter Fletcher.
Middle: Sammy McIlroy, Ian Storey-Moore, Trevor Anderson, Alex Forsyth, Mick Martin, Martin Buchan.
Bottom: Willie Morgan, Tony Young, Lou Macari, George Graham, Gerry Daly, Brian Kidd, Ray O’Brien.

How bad was this team? Well, by the names here, it was better than most English clubs. Having Stepney, Kidd; having bunch of Scots, all national players, and going to the World Cup right after the season ended – Morgan, Macari, Buchan, Forsyth, Holton, Graham; having Northern Irish national players like McIlroy and Anderson; having Eyre national player – O’Brien. May be not a great squad by United’s standards, may be transitional one, but impressive nevertheless… certainly better than what most clubs had. Except for Docherty… must be him, right? True, he failed to produce results. There was one big mistake – telling one too, for it is extremely rare in the history of Manchester United – a transfer mistake. Ian Storey-Moore was bought after fierce and back stabbing battle with Derby County. Storey-Moore was much praised in 1973 as a very promising player, a future big star certainly… Brian Clough wanted him. Why ManUnited fell for inflated player is mind boggling. It was not wise move. Storey-Moore produced exactly nothing for United and is perhaps the best symbol of the weak season. Storey-Moore did not fit the traditional profile of ManUnited player and, to my mind, was more Brian Clough’s type. Perhaps going to United was Storey-Moore’s undoing, but he was symbolic for this team – inflated, underperforming, chaotic and plain lazy. Forget about Storey-Moore – Brian Kidd did not play well! Forget about Graham and Docherty too. Where were Stepney, Morgan, and Kidd this season? They were to provide leadership and seemingly the shoes left by Charlton and Law were too big for them. No character.

Sadness apart, the relegation of Manchester United at least confirmed why English championship was the most exciting one in the world – nowhere else was possible a leading club to be relegated. The big clubs were either capable to sustain strong enough squads or were artificially kept in the top division. In England it was possible any club to win or to be relegated. Fair, if nothing else.

And more talent arriving fast: Middlesbrough won the Second Division and promotion to the first. 15 points ahead of the second placed Luton Town! Mind, those were still old days – 2 points for a win, one for a tie. 15 points difference in English championship? Middlesbrough would not be an ordinary team – they would be another pleasant surprise soon! Remember QPR the year before? Already finishing a great season among the best! Middlesbrough would be similar at worse.
Yes, there is greatness… of a singular kind: Graeme Souness. Nobody knew him yet. However, when everybody knew him, Souness was Liverpool player. As for Middlesbrough… good for them winning Second Division.

The League Cup went to Wolvehampton Wanderers after a tough final with Manchester City. The Wolves won 2-1. Again 100, 000 fans attended – Cups still counted in the 1970s.

Bottom, left to right: Kelly, Wagstaffe, Powell, McGarry – manager, Bailey, Hegan, McCalliog.
Middle: Parkin, Eastoe, Daley, Parkes, Pierce, McAlle, Palmer, Richards.
Top: Jefferson, Hibbitt, Taylor, Munro, Dougan, Kindon, Sunderland, Chung – assistant manager. Although the glory days of the Wolves were long gone, the team was good – good enough to produce hope for revival: more than reliable veterans like Dougan and McCalliog; solid and well established players like Hibbitt; up and coming youngsters – Richards and Sunderland. More than a decent squad, in fact. Much better looking than some of the cup winners from the previous years.

Another peek at the Wolves – this time the whole squad, second team and all. Golden future, isn’t it? How possibly English football would be in crisis when you see so much bursting talent in golden shirts?

Liverpool finished second, a bit down from 1973, but it was growing team getting in better and better shape. Not reaching its full potential yet. Third finished Derby County – the 1972 champions, still coached by Brian Clough.

The first three spelled out bright future – recent champions were playing strong, and expected to play even better. None was ephemeral team, just mercurially rising only to sink immediately. The were different teams too, using different approaches – the Scotish Leeds; the younger and faster Liverpool, and the magic mix of Derby, where not exactly great players were shaped into disciplined and well knitted team, capable of overachievement. Shrewd managers led all three… but not for long: Revie left Leeds United to coach the national team; Bill Shankly surprisingly announced his retirement – the irony of it! The builder of the great Liverpool retired before Liverpool conquered Europe. Brian Clough, always a maverick, quarreled with Derby’s big brass and soon left to coach lowly Nottingham Forest. Yet, unlike Leeds United, both Derby County and Liverpool had a lot to say. Particularly Liverpool.

In 1974 Liverpool had to comfort themselves with FA Cup. With 2 goals by Kevin Keegan and one by Steve Heighway they beat Newcastle United in front of 100,000 fans. The last trophy Bill Shankly collected.

The boys in red were to collect much more gold soon. The squad was already ripe and ready, growing longer and longer hair.

England, shocked, but still preferring to dismiss humiliation as something momentary and not at all deeply troubling. Continentals were clowns even when beating England. No matter, England is the best. Who had the most entertaining and competitive League, after all? Leeds United won the championship 5 points clear from Liverpool and massive 14 points ahead of the third placed Derby County.
What a squad! Don Revie’s masterpiece, featuring 16 national players, few of them soon to delight the world playing for Scotland at the World Cup. This squad had the making of a superteam, ready to concur the world and to remain on top. Alas, no… Leeds United may be the biggest underachiever of all time. All that talent and meager results – it was only 2 English titles and nothing higher than Fairs Cup internationally. Sure, they did not deserve to lose neither the Cups Winners Cup final, nor the Champions Cup final, but lost both nevertheless. I loved Leeds United of that vintage, but sympathy (an unusual too for a Manchester United fan) aside – Leeds is really enormous failure and may be a key for understanding the continuous shortcomings of England’s national team.
Everything started in 1961, when Don Revie arrived at Leeds as a player-manager. He was more than ambitious – he started a revolution. First he changed the kit of the traditionally mediocre club: the yellow-blue shirts were replaced by crisp all white kit after Real Madrid. It was more than a hint – Revie wanted to make Leeds as mighty as Real. He was also innovative, trying to copy great Hungary of the 1950s – particularly Nandor Hidegkuty, who played a playmaker of the kind favoured during total football playing 1970s. Thus, Revie was a rare bird in British football – taking account of European football, instead of continuing the traditional English schemes. But this was in 1961, when the Hungarians were still marvelous news, although declining by 1961. Revie started carefully building his great team by introducing young players, most of whom stayed in Leeds to the end of their careers. More or less, the core of the squad was shaped by the mid-60s and from then on it was steady refining, but nothing dramatic. The elegance of the old Hungarians were never achieved by Leeds, but the tough football of Real Madrid was – Leeds established mean reputation. They were known – and hated – for verbal abuse, rough play, and readiness to start a fight. Billy Bremner, the captain, was the chief offender, but he was not alone – Norman Hunter and Alan Clarke, and most of the rest, were always ready to exchange a punch or two, and to gang on opposite players. However, this reputation existed only in England – as mean as they may had been, Leeds appeared polite gentlemen in Europe, where real meanness dwelled: Leeds were tough, yet, when compared to other European clubs, they played by the rules. They did not argue much, did not simulate, did not spit and pinch, and their tackles aimed at the ball, not at the shins, did not waste time. Leeds played open, attacking football and by the early 1970s it had the perfect squad – more than 11 players of high abilities, very well attuned to each other. Having 16 national players was more than a luxury at the time – not a single European club had that. The squad amply provided for variety without risking quality – injuries were not scary on one hand. On the other – internal competition helped all players to be on constant alert and never to slack. Changes went smoothly too – Jacky Charlton retired, but Steve McQueen took his place. Johnny Giles, getting old, was sold – Terry Yorath already was getting famous. Mick Jones elevated himself to the national team of England, but already better centre-forward was pushing – Joe Jordan. Leeds did not have a single weak post… and with all this talent: only two titles!
Talent, but not exactly English talent – both goalkeepers were not English. The other key positions were predominantly Scottish – McQueen in the centre of defense; Billy Bremner in midfield; Lorimer and Jordan in the attack. As good as the English players were, they had secondary, supplementary roles. They did not conduct the team’s play. And that was the trouble with English football – the key players were not English not only in Leeds United. The new total football emphasized positions traditionally unimportant in England – the libero practically did not exist, for English teams practiced a line in defense. The playmaker was also practically absent – English football used long passes, normally coming from the sides, not the centre of the field. False wingers, the English innovation from 1966 was no longer valid either – total football wanted more real wingers and very mobile, not static, centre forward. Leeds did not have such players, nor English football in general. Managers stubbornly continued traditional football – and by the 70s Don Revie was among the main offenders: long gone were his revolutionary ways. Which is understandable – the man helmed Leeds United from 1961 to 1974. Getting older, he became conservative. And Leeds United, never fulfilling its promise, won a second title, but it was not to be a new are… turned out to be the swan song of the potentially greatest team never achieving greatness.
Don Revie was to step down, reason says… and he did, somewhat surprisingly, in the summer of 1974. He accepted to coach England – as if to ensure that England will sink deeper. Revie, behind his prime, was not a good choice – but yet another example of the entrenched conservatism in English football. Leeds United won little under Revie and England – nothing! However, in 1974 Leeds United were mighty and still destined for greatness. Or so was thought at the time.

Spain. Unlike the French, big domestic championship, big money, big fuss… like the French, no World Cup finals. But the fuss! The mega-transfers in 1973! Europe buzzed about it a long time, enlarging them – after all, it was really Cruiff and Netzer and nobody else – wildly. In Spain the noise was big too... in Madrid there was puzzlement. Netzer was difficult to judge – great player surely, but the attitude? Real Madrid wanted spirited man, at least when speaking to the media. Netzer said little about ‘the dream of my life’, and even less about ‘many titles to come’. Instead he said that he was 28 – meaning getting old – and coming to Real was his chance to get real money at last. He was talking salary, not trophies. He was extremely laid-back on the pitch, which was another puzzlement: the German did not run much. In his book on Real Madrid Phil Ball writes that Santiago Bernabeu never figured out Netzer – the guy was somehow doing nothing, except for the moments when he was delivering great 40-meters long passes, leading to goals. Ball is most likely right – the Spaniards expected fighters of which breed Netzer was not. If so, the Netzer episode is a sad comment on football culture – in less than 10 years it was completely forgotten that stubborn fighting was not ‘traditional’ quality of Spanish football. The great Real Madrid had one Ferenc Puskas – a player not exactly known for mad 90-minutes running on the pitch and kicking viscously whatever is in sight. If Netzer did not move, what was doing Puskas? They still adored him in Madrid by 1974. Anyway, Netzer’s ‘crime’ was misunderstanding on a large scale – he was representing modern football when Spanish football was not modern at all. Netzer only ‘appeared’ lazy, disinterested, and immobile – he was a playmaker, a great organizer, a conductor of the game. He scanned the field, looked for opportunities and used them by passing a surprise ball to a teammate in a position to score, or, failing that, at least to sharpen the attack. As a German, Netzer had no problem with massive running, but the football was so different in Spain, that there was no point of running. In West Germany they run to find open space, to create open space for attack, or to close the space for the opposition – in Spain the running was to get close to a player of the opposition and slash him. There was no creativity, but a war. Netzer found out that running is pointless – he had to look and try to shape a shapeless battle. His teammates did not understand him and most of his passes were lost, for when it was time to run for position nobody run. It may had been one of the biggest cultural clashes in football history – Spanish players (the imaginative ones, the legend tells us) bewildered by a German (no imagination, only dull strength, according to the same legend) who wants them artistic. Real Madrid had terrible season, crowned by humiliating loss at home to hated Barcelona 0-5. Madrid finished 8th – which sums it all. Cruiff scored one and set up three of the five goals Barcelona spat at Real in Madrid. One may say that they are more easily forgiving in Catalonia, or that football infects people with amnesia. Depending on opinion, either view will do… the soap opera of Cruiff’s transfer ended in triumph, the Dutch star making sure to say the right words in public even when in the back room he was saying the opposite. It was his dream to play for Barcelona, he was saying publicly. Forget having me, if my financial demands are not met, Cruiff was saying in the closed negotiations. He loved Ajax, and not leaving, naturally. He loved Barcelona and joining it, naturally. But his public relations skills never failed him: he took sides early and never changed that – he was never to play for Real Madrid. He also new very well the order of importance: to speak of freedom is great, but ultimately business tops freedom – when he was told that he has to don old-fashion number 9 and using his favourite number 14 is out of the question, the great Cruiff obeyed without protest. No wonder the Catalonians loved him from the first minute they heard he was coming. It was very slow coming – he missed almost two months of the championship because of mysterious administrative problems. It was some nasty Madrid’s plot, as ever, grumbled Barcelona fans and officials, for in the great Spanish divide Barcelona is the eternally oppressed club, suffering injustice after injustice. When finally Cruiff stepped on the pitch melodrama ended – unlike Netzer, he delivered. Barcelona won its first title since 1960, finishing 12 points clear from second placed Atletico (Madrid). The team also had the best attack – scoring 75 goals – and the best defense – allowing only 24 goals – in the league. Real Madird took revenge by beating Barcelona 4-0 at the Cup final, but nobody in both Madrid and Barcelona really counted the Cup this year.

Life is sweet when the big cup of the Spanish league is in Catalonia. As it is only proper, real fighters do not smile much – tough men winning a tough champioship. In the great noise something was entirely forgotten – Barcelona did not play vanguard total football, although both high priests of the style were here. Rinus Michels did not start changing the way the team played, but rather used traditional Spanish habits more intelligently. In Madrid they failed to use Netzer’s qualities by placing him in the team instead of organizing the team’s play around him. Michels did not make the same mistake – Barcelona was to be orchestrated by Cruiff. He was free to play as he saw best, but the rest were to be on disciplined alert for his passes, to provide support, and to help and protect the star in every possible way. As grand rich club go, Barcelona was star studded squad, almost everybody a national player (Spanish, Dutch, and Peruvian), but the real strength of the team was midfield. Cruiff himself moved further back, taking playmaking role and no longer real striker. Asensi and Rexach provided iron to his artistic lightness. The defense was typically mean Spanish line with plenty of murderous inclinations. Sotil, underrated from the start, had his own moments of greatness now and then, but particularly he distinguished himself during the 5-0 victory in Madrid.

Sotil’s header ends with yet another goal in Real’s net. However, the winning Barcelona did not have much potential – Sadurni was already over the hill, some other players were not getting younger either. Barcelona was not Ajax, not a squad for the future, but a squad in need of improvement, shaping, and new players. Real Madrid had younger and hungrier players and was better positioned for the future. Michels and Cruiff took the Spanish league by storm, but were not capable of changing the whole Spanish football overnight. It was rather the opposite – both adapted themselves to the realities, changing themselves, but not deeply entrenched attitudes. When the dust settled Spanish football remained exactly where it was before – dull, mean, warlike game, where tugs aimed at players legs rather than at the ball, and the arts of simulation, complaining, arguing with the referee, wasting time, were prime movers and shakers.

One man hardly can make fundamental changes – real changes appear when reforms are done on lower levels than the national team. Saint Etienne was the club starting the revolutionary change in French football. Now, Saint Etienne were not some newcomers: the club dominated the French league after 1966, briefly losing ground to Olympique Marseille and Nantes in the beginning of the 1970s. It was the time when the new wind started blowing – Robert Herbin, who spent the whole of his playing career in the club, was appointed coach. True, he was close to the club’s President, but still it was revolutionary move – Herbin stopped playing in 1972, becoming immediately head coach. He was 33 years old when he replaced Albert Batteux. Battex, 53 years at the time, had a huge reputation – he coached the legendary Stade de Reims. Which was in the 1950s… telling that reputation alone is not enough: Batteux, as good as he was, was a coach of the 50s, not the 70s. No wonder the old stars with whom Batteux won the Saint Etienne’s titles of the 60s disappeared – Herbin had no use for his teammates and introduced youngsters from the club’s youth system, like Janvion. This was the first change: paying attention to the youth system, building and using homegrown players. Of course, the club was buying players from elsewhere too, but carefully – only to strengthen the team, and whoever did not fit was quickly sold no matter how big his name was. The chemistry between club brass, squad, and Herbin was obviously perfect: he was allowed to do what he thought right and his age made him agreeable to all players – with the veterans he used to play not long ago (he appeared in 383 matches, scoring 78 goals – not bad for a defensive midfielder, moved to left back in 1969. He also played 23 games for France, scoring 3 goals.) At 33, he was not very distant from the young boys and he was hip too – growing his famous red hair long after retirement from playing. Retirement? He was still in good shape for the pitch in 1974-75 season, when he played 1 match and scored his last goal. Unlike many old coaches, Herbin was able to practice the drills with the team – always bringing players’ respect. He even did not pose with suit for team’s photos – he was generally dressed in shorts and team shirt, like a player, not like a boss. 1973-74 season was his second – Saint Etienne won a double!

Champions and Cup winners. Soon everybody in Europe will know these guys very well.
Top, left to right: Repellini, Merchadier, Piazza, Synaeghel, Farison, Curkovic.
Bottom: Patrick Revelli, Larque, Herve Revelli, Bereta.
The great Saint Etienne of the 1970s is practically made already – the two great foreigners Curkovic (Yugoslavia) and Piazza (Argentina) plus 9 French national players. Most remained in the first eleven for years, Repellini and Merchadier eventually becoming substitutes. Bereta was the first sold away – but replaced by younger and better winger. After building this squad, Herbin only refined it by smart transfers. There was no need of drastic measures for ten years. In 1974 Saint Etienne were not yet the awesome team they would be in the next year or two, but they were new. The old was good enough to provide a Cup finalist – RC Lens were sharp contrast. Only a year before they played in the Second Division – something quite typical for the French clubs and French football. No consistency – one great season, then mediocrity and relegation, then coming back on top, and so on, and on. RC Lens were and are one of the prime examples. Fancy this – a Cup final just a year after struggling for winning Second Division.
Top, left to right: Lhote, Gregorczyk, Lemerre, Hopquin, Marie, Lannoy.
Bottom: Faber, Mankowski, Arghuridis, Bousdira, Elie. No big names here, although a few will be remembered fondly in France. Sturdy professionals, but run of the mill anyway. The best known here – statistically, that is – are the foreigners Ryszard Gregorczyk (real name Grzegorczyk, unpronounceable in French, so slightly changed) and Eugeniusz Faber, both Polish and former national players. And perhaps this is showing the difference between Saint Etienne and the rest of French clubs: Gregorczyk and Faber were old and well behind their best years. There was no future in them; there was no way to build a team around them. The foreign players of Saint Etienne were entirely different – Curkovic was not young, but still was good for about ten years. Piazza was young – his best years were yet to come. Unlike the Poles, the foreigners in Saint Etienne were real part of the team’s future, not just ephemeral presence for a season or two. The French football revolution had began thanks to Robert Herbin – the results will arrive years later. Almost ten year later Saint Etienne was still champion and Robert Herbin’s curly hair was still long, although only one player – Curkovic (in sky blue jersey)– remained from the original squad above. Yes, Platini is in the photo – second from left, second row. Herbin – sitting last on the right still looks like one of the boys.