Genius or madman?

Brian did things his own way, so that when you played under him you weren't able to influence him at all.

He never had any great respect for the establishment and seemed to seek out rebellious, wayward players he thought he could mould into stars. If an assortment of mavericks and wild men could perform on the pitch, he was prepared to tolerate the more destructive side of their personalities.

Typical examples of this were myself (obviously), Larry Lloyd, Kenny Burns, Charlie George and John Robertson, a hard-drinking, chain-smoking Scot who he turned into probably the best left-winger in the world at the time. Brian believed that the best players had a bit of wildness about them, and that brilliance went hand in hand with a darker side. His liking for misfits, rejects and bad boys was a reflection of himself in many ways.

Clough's bold individuality had a kind of heroic dimension, but it proved his undoing when it came to the most prestigious job of all - manager of England. The establishment wanted predictability - and Brian wasn't able to give them that. Brian could never have been that kind of animal if he tried. He wouldn't have been able to include rebel players in his England side, and he would have had to change his management style. Since he would have come into contact with England players once in a blue moon, I don't think they would have understood his eccentricities.

He didn't allow players to get near him. Mind you, I don't think they would have wanted to anyway - I certainly didn't. Few players got close to him. Perhaps John McGovern, who followed him from Hartlepool to Derby, Leeds and Forest, was one.

In my opinion Clough was a very clever man, with a proven formula for building a winning team. He would recruit his three or four rebels, but always make sure that the rest of the team were Steady Eddies.

This strategy ensured he could not really lose. He would have an effective mixture of flair, flamboyance and a stable nucleus. For many years, Brian and Peter could visualise the players that would gel into their pattern, even if they only played at the club a short time.

That, in my book, was very good management. However, it was obvious that when Clough finished nobody would be allowed to have that power again. In my short time at the club it was too late to reverse it, and the directors accepted that fact.

Clough thought that because he created entertaining, winning teams, and brought millions of pounds into the club, that he was entitled to make most of the decisions.

But by the early Eighties football had become so coach-oriented that players were in danger of becoming robots. The game itself was changing - and not for the better. No longer could Cloughie take someone like Birmingham centre-forward Kenny Burns - a total nutcase who was virtually down and out, and driving a car which was falling apart - and mould him into a great central defender.

That was the kind of challenge Brian needed. It gave him a sense of fulfilment to know he had used his management skills to their fullest.

Legendary characters, such as Bill Shankly and him, will always be remembered with affection in the game. Directors are now almost getting to the stage where they don't trust their manager to do anything except coach and train the team. Football needs maverick managers as much as it needs maverick players.

On the other hand, the other side of Brian's personality was very hard for the players of my era to comprehend. Larry Lloyd sums the man up in his after-dinner speeches by saying: "Brian Clough was supposed to be with me tonight, but unfortunately he can't be here because he's doing a sponsored walk from Dover to Calais."

Clough would insist on the team going for walks in the park. He would be in front like the Pied Piper, and we would follow behind like a bunch of idiots. Training consisted of walking alongside the Trent three times a week to a public park, where we had a warm-up, and then an eighta-side game which was occasionally attended by Cloughie and Taylor, usually when Peter wanted to take his dog for a walk. The dog, Bess, even attended team meetings. Kenny Burns used to stand on it when Taylor was not looking and make it yelp.

As well as that, I was surprised to find there was little opportunity to practise any tactical moves. In fact there were no tactics at Forest.

But in fairness to Cloughie, he did help me out once when I was being chased by the Inland Revenue. He invited the tax inspector into his office and gave him a cheque for a couple of grand to clear taxes which I owed. I had to repay this later, but it was a kind gesture.

I also know he helped out other players from time to time - all above board. So it just goes to show he was a man of many faces. I always remember one of his favourite lines: "Rome wasn't built in a day, but I wasn't on that particular job." ° Stan Bowles, 2004. Extracted from Stan Bowles The Autobiography, by Stan Bowles. Published by Orion Books at £18.99.