Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil NEW EDITION: A Chronicle of Coal, Cowdenbeath and Football

By Ron Ferguson

Very funny, moving, uplifting and spiritual, this is no ordinary football book. Set against the rise and decline of the local mining industry, readers join in with the sheer joy of supporting one of Britain's most unsuccessful football clubs

• Language: English
• Publisher: Saint Andrew Press
• Release date: Aug 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9780861538775

Book preview

Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil

Cowden’s heroic captain in the 1940s and 1950s, Alex ‘Big Ming’ Menzies.

Praise for the 1st edition of Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil

‘The best Scottish football book ever.’ – Tom Morton, The Scotsman

‘Black Diamonds is a tale of triumph, of love over logic. The reaction has been ecstatic. Diamonds is fast becoming a cult classic.’ – The Observer

‘Stephen Fry once said of satirist Peter Cook that he was the funniest man who ever drew breath. There’s little doubt in my mind that Ron Ferguson is currently the funniest man drawing breath in Scotland.’ – Ian Rankin

‘Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil is the work of a true craftsman in literature. I recommend it to the many readers who have never seen a football kicked in their lives. It certainly deserves to be a bestseller.’ – Poet and novelist George Mackay Brown

‘Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil is much more than your standard football fare. This fascinating story includes elements of autobiography, social history and politics laced with a liberal sprinkling of that most essential characteristic of the true football fan, a sense of humour.’ – Frank Dillon, The Blue Brazilian fanzine

‘Every now and again, perhaps once every five years, a book is published which captures the elusive essence of the game of football . . . Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil can stand comparison with the very best of football writing. If football is, as some say, the working man’s opera, then Ron Ferguson is the Puccini of his day.’ – Scottish Football Historian

‘Black Diamonds is a book that will resonate with all real football fans. It tells the story of a small community football team that dared to be better than Brazil. It’s the story of coal-mining miles from the Copacabana.’ – Stuart Cosgrove, Channel 4, and BBC Scotland Off the Ball

‘Wonderfully written stuff, with a pawky humour that keeps the story bubbling along and the reader in rapt anticipation of the next delicious revelation . . . It’s a wonderful read for a cold autumn weekend.’ – John Maxwell, The Herald

‘A sports book like no other . . . the poetically titled cult classic Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil was a publishing phenomenon, selling far beyond the terraces at Central Park.’ – Robert Philip, Daily Telegraph

‘A wonderful, invigorating book.’ – Hugh MacDonald, chief sports reporter, The Herald

Armand Oné is congratulated by Gary Fusco after scoring for Cowden at Hampden.

About the author

Award-winning author, journalist and playwright Ron Ferguson ­attained an honours degree in philosophy and history at St Andrews University, and graduated from Edinburgh University with a first-class honours degree in theology, followed by postgraduate studies at Duke University, North Carolina. After eight years’ ministry in the Easterhouse housing scheme, Glasgow, he was elected Leader of the ecumenical Iona Community. He was minister of St Magnus Cathedral, Kirkwall, for 11 years, and was theologian-in-residence at White Memorial Presbyterian Church, Raleigh, North Carolina.

He is a regular columnist and book reviewer for the Press and Journal and Life and Work magazine, and occasional essayist for the Sunday Herald, Scotland on Sunday, the Sunday Post and the Scottish Review. He was shortlisted for the Scottish Writer of the Year award for his bestselling biography of George MacLeod. He is the author of 15 well-received books including three biographies, several collections of columns for The Herald, and a book of conversations with a Roman Catholic monk. His most recent book, George Mackay Brown: The Wound and the Gift, was shortlisted for the Saltire Research Book of the Year Award. He was awarded the honorary degree of Doctor of Letters by Glasgow Caledonian University in 2010. Honorary President of the Cowdenbeath Supporters’ club, he lives in rural Orkney with his wife, Cristine.

Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil

A Chronicle of Coal, Cowdenbeath & Football

Ron Ferguson

SAINT ANDREW PRESS

Edinburgh

First published in 2014 by

SAINT ANDREW PRESS

121 George Street

Edinburgh EH2 4YN

Copyright © Ron Ferguson, 2014

First edition copyright © Ron Ferguson, 1993

ISBN 978-0-86153-874-4

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent.

The opinions expressed in this book are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the publisher.

The right of Ron Ferguson to be identified as author of this work has been ­asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

It is the publisher’s policy to only use papers that are natural and recyclable and that have been manufactured from timber grown in renewable, properly managed forests. All of the manufacturing processes of the papers are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

Typeset by Manila Typesetting Company

Printed and bound in the United Kingdom by

CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon

In Memory

Alex Westwater, Robert Holman,

George S. Hutchison,

Joe and Ina Ferguson

In Hope

Fiona, Neil, Alasdair Ferguson

that their Season may be

a memorable one

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance . . .

Here for a Season, then above – CH4, no. 553

The legendary Hooky Leonard (front row, right hand side).

Contents

Preface to the 21st-Anniversary Editionx

Forewords to the 21st-Anniversary Edition

Sir Alex Ferguson

Jim Leishman

Craig Brown

Kathy Galloway

Preface to the Original Edition

Foreword to the Original Edition

Introduction to the Original Edition

The Season

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

January

February

March

April

May

Postscript

The team that beat Rangers at Ibrox in 1949. Back row, left to right: Hamilton, Durie, Moodie, Holland, Armstrong, Reid. Front row: McGurn, Mackie, Dick, Cameron, Menzies.

Preface to the 21st-Anniversary Edition

When Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil first saw the light of day 21 years ago, its publication was scarcely noticed. It sold well among Cowdenbeath supporters; but, since those of us who follow the Blue Brazil are close to being an extinct, though distinctive, species, that did not mean that it sold widely.

Having had three books published by HarperCollins, with its big marketing department and extensive distribution network, I noticed the difference with Black Diamonds. Famedram, with one and a half members of staff, did well to get the book out at all. Bill Williams, Famedram’s intrepid and visionary driving force, used to put books in the boot of his car and travel to various parts of Scotland, trying to persuade big bookshops such as Waterstones, Borders and Ottakar’s to take a few copies.

Then something strange started to happen. Black Diamonds began to flourish by word of mouth. Booksellers got in touch with Famedram, rather than the other way round. Alastair Campbell, Tony Blair’s spin doctor and a keen football fan, talked the book up in his Today newspaper column. Amid solemn talk of a ‘new genre’, one or two heavyweight London papers picked it up. The Daily Telegraph sent their chief football writer, Robert Philip, plus a photographer, up to my home in Orkney for a full-page feature. Black Diamonds became routinely ­described as a ‘cult book’ (an unusual experience for a Presbyterian minister). Even weirder: football ‘anoraks’ from the south of England began to travel up in midweek to Central Park, Cowdenbeath – even those who love it acknowledge that it resembles a postwar East European scrapyard – simply to stand on the terracing and inhale. They wanted to know more about Hooky Leonard and Alex ‘Big Ming’ Menzies, two of the heroes in the book. They also wanted to search out a definitive answer to the question of how lowly Cowdenbeath had come by the coolest nickname in football, ‘The Blue Brazil’.

Of the books I have written, Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil was the most fun to write. It was certainly the most autobiographical work I have ever written. I wrote it for sheer enjoyment. Even a Blue Brazil nut like myself could jalouse that the nation was not crying out for a book about Cowdenbeath Football Club. When I was minister of St Magnus Cathedral, I tried to take Mondays off; I relaxed by writing, and I aimed to write the book on Monday mornings. The only problem was that St Magnus Cathedral manse in Kirkwall was a very public space. All kinds of people would ring the doorbell wanting a chat or a cup of tea or money. It went with the territory of being a minister; I had no problem with that, but it wasn’t an environment for concentrated writing.

I raised the matter with the kirk session of the Cathedral congregation. They were immediately sympathetic. Within 24 hours, I had five different offers of a bolt-hole for writing. What suited best was a townhouse in Kirkwall. (Sir Walter Scott had lived there when he was doing the research for his novel, The Pirate, which was based on the life of a notorious Orkney brigand, John Gow of Stromness.) It was now the home of Mrs Helen Peace, widow of a local GP, Sydney Peace. So, most Monday mornings, I worked in Sydney’s ­office on his old workhorse Amstrad computer. Helen generously plied me with coffee and cream cakes. It was a happy place for writing, although there was an undertow of sadness: Helen’s son, Rognvald, who was in his late 30s, was dying of cancer. He spoke frankly about his illness, and we had several touching conversations.

About halfway through the writing of Black Diamonds, Nick Hornby’s book Fever Pitch was published. It was a superb account of what it meant to be an Arsenal supporter. Hornby covered the highs and lows of being a besotted fan of a big club with a European reputation. My own book would be radically different, both in style and content, particularly as it was not about a famous London club with a huge support, but about a desperate season in the life of a small-town Scottish club with few supporters, set against the rise and decline of the mining industry in West Fife.

After Black Diamonds was published, I was surprised and touched by the correspondence it generated. Readers wrote about politics and religion as much as about football and coal-mining. I had a letter from one woman, Mrs Evelyn Aris, who had noted in Black Diamonds that Professor James Black from Cowdenbeath had won the Nobel Prize for medicine. She told me with pride that her daughter-in-law was a Nobel Prize winner – Burmese heroine Aung San Suu Kyi. Evelyn’s father, who was a GP in Cowdenbeath in the 1940s, used to take his daughter to games at Central Park. (Maybe Aung San Suu Kyi, The Lady, can be persuaded to come to Central Park some day. I think she would love it. No?)

I cannot speak highly enough of Bill Williams. When Bill suggested a new, updated edition of Black Diamonds since it was out of print but there was still demand for it, I was delighted. The 21st anniversary of the book’s publication seemed a good time to do the business. It also gave me the opportunity to invite three of the people I most admire in football, plus one star in the Scottish theological firmament, to write forewords. They readily agreed.

Sir Alex Ferguson (no relation) has been a fan of Black Diamonds since it was published. I first got to know the former Manchester United manager in the late 1970s when I was commissioned by HarperCollins to write a biography of George MacLeod, founder of the Iona Community. Dr MacLeod, who used to preach in the open air at Govan Cross, influenced many people – including Alex Ferguson’s father, who was a shipyard worker in Govan. When I was minister of St Magnus Cathedral, a young boy who came to the church with his parents was struggling because of a family bereavement. The lad was a Manchester United fan, and his favourite player was Ryan Giggs. I contacted Alex and asked if he might be able to drop the boy a note. A few days later, the boy reported that he had received a letter from the Man U boss. Not only that, Fergie had also sent him a Manchester United strip with Ryan Giggs’s name on the back. Sir Alex Ferguson’s achievements in football have rightly become the stuff of legend, but what he did for that lad in Kirkwall is a measure of Alex Ferguson the man. Despite all his deserved successes and fame, Alex Ferguson has never forgotten his roots, and I love him for it.

And then there’s Jim Leishman. What can one say? Jim is another figure of legend. A great motivator, Jim would fire up his Dunfermline Athletic footballers in the dressing room before games by reciting some poetry he had written or by telling them the Biblical story of David and Goliath. And the Pars players did a fair bit of giant-killing when Jim was their manager. Jim, who played for both Dunfermline and Cowdenbeath, is another big-hearted man who would do anything for anyone. Despite his passion for Cowdenbeath’s biggest ­rivals, he is much loved at Central Park, even when he is being baited by the Cowden fans. I like the way he ends his foreword to this book about Cowdenbeath: ‘Come on ye Pars!’

The third person in this football trinity is Craig Brown. A much-admired coach, he rose to become manager of the Scotland international side; in fact, he became the longest-serving Scotland manager ever. At a time when Scotland was not producing great footballers, Craig led Scotland to qualification for both Euro ’96 in England and the 1998 FIFA World Cup. Like Alex Ferguson and Jim Leishman, Craig Brown is a great-hearted guy who will take time out from a busy schedule to help anyone if he can. He is also one of the funniest raconteurs I know.

What unites the three is not just their skill at football management, but also their humanity. They have graced the game of football.

A thread about religion runs through the core narrative of Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil. A Scottish poet and theologian I greatly admire is Dr Kathy Galloway, currently head of Christian Aid in Scotland. Dr Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, said of her work: ‘If there is such a thing as theological perfect pitch, Kathy Galloway has got it.’ Kathy isn’t at all keen on football – so, what does she make of a book about football, coal-mining, religion, community and politics? Read on, Macduff.

My thanks go to Bill Williams for his generous support for this new edition. I would also like to thank D. C. Thomson and the Dunfermline Press for permission to use photographs; publishers Stanley Paul for permission to quote material from The Party’s Over by Jim Baxter; Penguin Books for permission to quote material from My Life with Nye, by Jennie Lee; The Scotsman, The Sun, The Observer, The Times, The Herald and the Daily Telegraph for permission to quote short extracts from reviews; Scotland on Sunday for permission to quote extracts from an article by Dorothy-Grace Elder; Archie Bevan for permission to quote material by George Mackay Brown; Ann Crawford publishing manager of Saint Andrew Press, for her patience and commitment; Ivor Normand for his professional excellence; club historian David Allan and my son Neil Ferguson for their help with matters of fact; my wife Cristine, Ian Fraser, Iain Macdonald, Maxwell MacLeod, Fiona Ferguson and Ally Ferguson for their encouragement. All author’s royalties from this book will go to Cowdenbeath FC’s youth system.

For any reader who doesn’t yet know much about Cowdenbeath FC and Central Park, there is an excellent short documentary film available at the time of writing on YouTube by up-and-coming director Ross Cunningham (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUifUrFWTmE).

While a number of amendments have been made in the interests of factual accuracy, space and style, the text of the body of the original book is largely unaltered. As I write this preface, unlike in the tortuous season described in Black Diamonds and the Blue Brazil, Cowdenbeath are holding their own in the pretentiously named Scottish Championship, the second highest senior league in Scottish football. Cowden are punching well above their weight. History, both economic and football, tells me that we will fall from these heights sooner rather than later, and find ourselves back in the familiar Scottish senior football basement. And so it goes.

The future of Cowdenbeath Football Club remains uncertain. It has no divine right to continue to exist. Whatever happens to this ‘smashing wee club’, as Sir Alex Ferguson terms it, I count it a privilege to have helped to record both its triumphs and, more frequently, its disasters. I am also glad to pay tribute to those who follow lower-league football in Scotland, especially the long-suffering Cowden fans who travel up and down the country to support their team. When watching football, I prefer to stand on the terracing in the company of the blue-and-white faithful, whose wit is sharp and whose language resembles a Tourette’s Syndrome convention much more than it does a Kirk congregation on a Sunday morning.

Of course, there is much nostalgia and romance around the lower leagues. I like Robert Philip’s comment in the Daily Telegraph: ‘While the battalions of Rangers and Celtic fans march to the beat of triumphalism, those who follow Cowdenbeath and their lowly ilk wallow in romanticism. If Robbie Burns had been a footballer, he might have played for the Blue Brazil . . . with Laurel and Hardy at wing-half.’ I am well aware that much more than nostalgia and romance are needed to keep alive a football club, never mind a community; but fans of unfashionable clubs are sustained by stories and impossible dreams, while they give of their time and money to help and support their local teams and communities.

Cowdenbeath, with its pit disasters, gritty humour and radical politics, is in my DNA. The feisty Jennie Lee, one of the greatest Scots of the 20th century, who honed her political rhetoric on the streets of Cowdenbeath during turbulent times for the mining industry and who rose to become Minister for the Arts – and founding Minister of the Open University – in Harold Wilson’s cabinet, was my third cousin. Mining, politics, religion and community cannot be separated from the fortunes of Cowdenbeath’s coal-dusted football club; the ‘Miners’, as they were called, bore the town’s name in good times and bad. Margaret Pollock, an antiques dealer who brought the first leather football to Cowdenbeath in June 1880 – she bought it at Matthew Brown’s shop in Glasgow’s Saltmarket for 13 shillings – can lay claim to being the true founder of Cowdenbeath FC. Two of her sons, John and James – my first cousins twice removed – got that leather ball rolling. Margaret Pollock, rightful Queen of the land of Blue Brazil, was my great-great-aunt.

My doughty grandfather, Alex Ferguson, patriarch, painter and Kirk elder, was rarely missing from his seat in the Central Park stand, tartan rug over his knees. My father, Joe Ferguson, was another regular attender; when he and my mother honeymooned in the Hillfoots, near the Ochil Hills, it just so happened that Alloa were at home to Cowdenbeath . . . So Mad Cowdenbeath Disease, which attacks the brain, has travelled down the generations through my children – Fiona, Neil and Ally – and my grandchildren, Olly and Dan.

MCD is epitomised by the Blue Brazil’s mascot, Bluebell the Coo, who has a place of honour on the front cover of this book. Bluebell’s suit is usually inhabited by respected local solicitor Malcolm Slora, who buys sweets to throw to the children at Central Park. One particular incident highlights the up-and-down madness at large in the land of Blue Brazil. In a Scottish Cup tie against Hibs at Central Park in 2012, the Cowden fans were both astonished and elated when striker Greg Stewart opened the scoring in 18 seconds. Stung by this setback, Hibs proceeded to depress the Cowden supporters by scoring three goals. Late in the game, Cowden’s young captain, Jon Robertson, hit a swerving ‘Brazilian’ shot which bamboozled the Hibs goalkeeper and ended up in the net. With the score at 2-3, Cowden scented a possible Cup upset. To encourage the fans to cheer on the team for a final effort, Bluebell the Coo came flying round the stock-car track, waving a Brazilian flag and pedalling furiously on a scooter. I will never forget the look on the face of Pat Fenlon, the recently appointed Hibs manager; he was clearly wondering what on earth he had come to. Sadly, Cowdenbeath failed to equalise, but it was great entertainment for the fans of both Cowdenbeath and Hibernian.

I can’t help it. I love the Blue Brazil, and will do so until I have no breath left to shout at biased referees and to implore the Lord to ­intervene spectacularly when the undeserving Pars are luckily beating us at Fife’s Stadium of Light, the theatre of dreams and nightmares known as Central Park.

Ron Ferguson

Cowden players celebrate staying up in Scottish Championship.