Yet I retain faith in the Marr brothers who finance the team and the Bonetti brothers who run it. Why? Maybe I'm mad, maybe that's why my website's called dundee-mad, but I base my belief on the fact that this is the best squad of Dundee players I have seen in the great dark blue jerseys for many, many years. Under achievers, yes, by a mile, but still packed with quality and class. And all brought about by a family from a housing scheme in Fintry who dreamed the dream and brought it to reality. We would all wish to reach such heights, but few can do so, the Marrs did.
I go back a long way with Dundee, watching them spellbound for my first ever visit to a professional football match at the age of 10, a draw against Clyde at Dens Park, somewhere around about 1960. I didn't know it then, but the terracings I stood on were to become a big part of my life. That was my turning moment, the shining light of St Paul on his way to Damascus. Once seen, bitten by the dark blue bug, it never left me after that momentous day.
I saw the league winning side of 1962, that glorious, magnificent side who went on to reach the Semi Finals of the European Cup a year later.
Back L to R: Penman, Seith, Stuart, Liney, Wishart, Craig Brown, Waddell; Front Smith, Hamilton, Ure, Cox, Cousin, Gilzean, Robertson. |
In between spells in hospital I witnessed glory of a kind that has never returned to ,
These were halcyon days to be a Dundee fan. In between spells in and out of hospital I watched these Gods play and knew, young though I was, I was seeing the likes of which I'd never see again. I still retain with pride a postcard from Ian Ure from Belgium the day before we outclassed Anderlectht 4-1 and some of his many letters that he sent. A giant of a man, feared by his opponents for his ruthless approach, yet a gentleman at heart, who cared enough to remember a wee boy lying in a Perthshire hospital, even on the eve of his biggest game. I still have that team in my memory and I only have to close my eyes to see them play again. Liney, Hamilton, Cox, Seith, Ure, Wishart, Smith, Penman, Cousin, Gilzean, Robertson. These names are etched within and if only I could have remembered as much facts at school as I did on my pilgrimages to Dens, I might have been in a far better job today.
But I digress. Glad I did so, as this was the team me and Peter Marr were brought up on. Why do I stand by the present management and board? Many others are turning on them, like dogs who have been well fed but who demand that extra tin of Pal. Back to the story.
It was then I first met Peter Marr as a classmate at school in 1962. No signs then that this rather plumpish guy seated next to me for Geography, (sorry, if you read this, Peter), would ever go on to rule Dundee as the el supremo. Don't remember him playing football, but he certainly loved the game with a passion. Yes, he spoke nothing but Dundee, what the team would be for the next game, the tactics, the last result, the changes he would make, etc., etc. But we all did then, it was a brave school kid who confessed to being an Arab in 1962. If they did have United allegiances they kept it hidden. I don't have one memory of an Arab in my class at St Michaels Junior Secondary. Not in 1962. Many Old Firm fans, (that much hasn't changed), but no arabs.
Dundee F.C., the team Kenneth Wolstenholme, the top BBC sports reporter of his day described as a dream team, and the best representatives of British football he had seen so far.
They say schooldays are the best days of your life. Well, my memories of frustrated teachers throwing pieces of chalk in our direction because we realised Dundee were much more important than Geography or Maths still hurts. How could they be so insensitive and stupid not to realise this fact. If Einstein had been in our class even he, surely, would have quickly became a Dee and all his great work might have been lost.
When we left school, aged 15, I lost track of Peter Marr for many years, though I know now we both continued to support our beloved team throughout that time.
Many chairmen and managers came and went. There were good and bad. I always forget the bad and only remember the good. Gellatly, heart in the right place, tried to get us back to the good old days, tried his best to emulate United as they took top place and held onto it for many years. A crucial error was made at this time. Jim McLean was allowed to leave Dens and the hurt that left in him resulted, in my opinion, in his determination to make United succeed. The rest is history, the man's a legend, despite his present problems at Tannadice. Anyone who says otherwise is an idiot and a fool, both at the same time.
We went through so many managers that it would need another article to write about them. This one's about the Marr's so I leave much left unsaid. Several characters, Jim Smith, the poetic spoken bald headed man, saw some never to be forgotten wins under his reign, including a 3-2 victory over Celtic at Parkhead when we were 2-0 down. Jim was a gentleman of the highest level and didn't deserve the denigrations he got from the media. Nothing changes.
I discovered the reason why the Marrs were so fanatical Dees when I used to take my kids team to play pool in a wee place next to the Powrie Bar in Fintry, ran by Peter's dad, of the same name. This man was a Dee to the hilt, would talk about Billy Steele as if he was still playing. My visits there were regular with the members of my boys team, Lincraig, and I got to know and respect the great Peter Marr Senior. When he died suddenly of a heart attack, I was gutted, as I saw him as a personal friend. To me it was the loss of a father figure who gave so much to the kids of Fintry in his Powrie pool room.
Anyway, time presses, in all those years from 1962 I didn't really meet up with Peter Marr Junior again until around the mid 80's when he became boss of the Mains of Claverhouse pub. I have to say when you make a pub your local you look for certain qualities and wee extras you don't find in other pubs. This pub filled all of my own expectations and more.
Smoke filled, to the extent that you had to squint your eyes to see, and had to take extra breaths at time to breathe. The wee extractor fans never seemed to do their job and so you spent all night drinking, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath every so often. The doors would be opened to allow air to enter and you had a choice then, breathe or die of the cold.
Peter, his missus, Anne, Debbie his daughter (now Mrs. Douglas), all ran the place at different times, and the late John Marr, a great guy who always started a good argument with the locals and got the place in uproar time after time. John never argued football, but he got you going about any other subject under the sun, a great man to have behind any bar.
Peter's mum died not so long ago, a bingo lover, but more importantly a great woman who got on with eveyone, and to whom the word snobbishness just wasn't in her vocabulary. Never heard her speak about football, but she lived to see her sons make millions, and still went to the prize bingo in the Mains of Claverhouse.
Peter's rise to fame was during the waning years of Tory power when they began to throw (no other words for it) poor misfortunates out of establishments like Liff, Strathmartine, etc., Peter bought old buildings and quickly renovated them to provide a home for such outcasts, and in doing so he employed some of the best health board staff.
Within a few years these establishments were worth a lot of money and when he sold them off, he gained the millions he has now invested in Dundee. So no one should decry what he put into this city, creating jobs and providing a haven for those Mrs. Thatcher wanted to throw on the streets.
Looking back on what I've written, it might seem like I'm writing a story about a family with no flaws. They had their problems in the past like any other family. Peter and Jimmy, who later on was to take over the running of the Mains of Claverhouse and who sponsored my Lincrag teams, are like us all, imperfect, and just as likely to make mistakes. Peter's now famous quote that a man gets heid butted in Dundee as often as a bus passes was taken out of context, he was speaking as a Dundonian or a Fintryonioan. The fact is he's probably not far wrong. But I think most Dundonians knew he was talking tongue in cheek.
But the man brought up working class, and is still proud of this fact, once worked his way up the rungs of the ladder called success, then looked back. Remembered his upbringing and his dad, his school days and his team, and turned full circle. Everything now depends on his boyhood dream. Those who doubt his heart and intentions never really knew Peter Marr.
HIS ALL FOR DUNDEE - EVERYTHING FOR THE CAUSE - WIN = SUCCESS.
LOSE = FAILURE AND POSSIBLE BANKRUPTCY.
Yet still the thousands complain who have nothing to lose but their pride.
I have given much for my team. But not my rent money, not my all. (well, maybe some of my rent money now and again). But those who run Dundee have risked their all and their everything, and I mean everything. BOO THEM IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT RAGS TO RICHES STORIES AND SUPREME COMMITMENT TO A CAUSE. i.e. Dundee Football Club.