HERO IN THE SHADOWS: THE STORY OF DON HOWE, ENGLAND’S GREATEST COACH by David Tossell
Don Howe is one of English football’s great coaches, with an unrivalled record at international and club level.
As right-hand man to three England managers, he helped his country to the 1990 World Cup and Euro 96 semi-finals. He helped to steer them through the 1982 World Cup unbeaten and to the quarter-finals four years later. Howe masterminded the 1970/71 double at Arsenal, where two spells as coach also brought European and further FA Cup glory. He was also an integral part of one of the greatest Wembley upsets when he helped Wimbledon’s ‘Crazy Gang’ to victory over the mighty Liverpool in 1988.
As a player at West Bromwich Albion, Howe won 24 international caps, but as a manager he failed to achieve the success he craved. Yet over a three-decade period, he won acclaim from many of England’s finest players as a genius of the coaching profession.
Through interviews with players, colleagues, friends and family, this book examines the triumphs and challenges of Don Howe’s career and assesses his contribution to English football.
(Publisher: Pitch Publishing Ltd. April 2022. Hardcover: 336 pages)
As a kid travelling to away games, spotting the floodlights was part of the excitement of the day. And if I’m honest, even all these years later, there is still a thrill from spotting the pylons whether in the car or on a train. However, as old grounds have slowly disappeared and technology has advanced in the field of lighting, those distinctive pylons of my youth, are a very rare sight these days.
In 1988, the month of April was an interesting time for Wimbledon FC and Luton Town. The teams met in the FA Cup Semi-Final at White Hart Lane on the 9th of that month. Wimbledon emerged victors that day with a 2-1 win on their way to a completely unexpected FA Cup Final victory over Liverpool. Luton though bounced back and just 15 days later carried out their own Cup shock by stunning Arsenal 3-2 at Wembley with two goals in the last eight minutes to take the League Cup. The 23 years since these sides won major domestic honours have seen countless twists and turns, many of which have been cruel, whilst others have been inspirational.
Therefore I travel to this game as nervous as any fan. As I set off for the match from Leeds station I spot a Luton Town shirt and think, is that an omen? Are Luton going to win 1-0? Quickly I see an AFC Wimbledon shirt which makes it 1-1. In search of a winner, I search the platforms but don’t see any further shirts as I board the train. The journey is spent looking out the window, checking the time and suddenly we are stopping at Huddersfield. Surely that’s a good omen for the Dons, as that is where Wimbledon got promoted to the First Division after a 1-0 win at the old Leeds Road ground back in May 1986. Onwards we go again and without realising it I can see the City of Manchester Stadium coming into view. For Luton fans, if they think of Manchester and particularly the blue half, they must think of the relegation game on the last day of the 1982/83 season. I can remember watching it on Match of the Day and David Pleat’s hop, skip and a jump as a last gasp Raddy Antic goal saved the Hatters and relegated City.
About 2.30 I make my way to my seat and I’m struck by how well the pitch looks. With mid-May sun lighting up the pitch and stadium it could be the opening day of the season in August. The teams go through their pre-match drills and as the respective sets of supporters drift in the volume and sense of anticipation increases. To my right and ahead of me there is a sea of orange and in the area I’m sat and to my left, the blue and yellow of the Dons fans is evident. The players go off to applause, knowing the next time that emerge onto the pitch the real action will begin. There is a brief lull. All around me there is expectation and this is reflected in faces that are anxious and faces that are just enjoying the moment. Sunshine greets the players as they enter the arena passing the Play-off Trophy and the volume reaches a new high for the day. Fireworks burst into life and jets of flames add to an already hot atmosphere. The team’s line-up, but quickly officials are ushering them into a different position as they await the presentation of match guests. As they do so, players nervously wave to loved ones in the crowd. All those around me agree that the game is too close to call and that one goal will win it.
Wimbledon kick-off, but immediately give it away and concede a free-kick. The game is held up further as players stamp on blue and yellow balloons that drift across the playing surface. Play resumes and within the opening first five minutes Luton and AFC Wimbledon both win corners, which neither defence defends comfortably. Gary Brabin the Luton manager, arms folded prowls around his Technical area. His opposite number Terry Brown remains seated during the opening exchanges. The defences look nervous and Seb Brown in goal for the Dons doesn’t come for a through ball. Suddenly the ball switches into the Luton half, seven minutes gone, Kaid Mohamed shoots, Hatters keeper Tyler saves and Kedwell crashes home the rebound. The Dons players, fans and management explode with joy, but it is short-lived, the linesman flag indicates off-side, Hatters fans taunt their rivals. Luton respond well and have a couple of shots off target. Terry Brown the Dons manager is now out in his Technical Area as the first third of the first half elapses. There is a great deal of tension in the play and possession is too easily given away and corners and free-kicks are wasted by both sides, the prize so much of a burden at this stage. Twenty minutes gone and Luton start to build some pressure, as they win another corner. A fine save by Brown from Claude Gnakpa, as the Frenchman gets into the game. Still the mistakes continue as a Luton player throws the ball straight out of play, both managers exchange a smile to relieve their tension briefly. Thirty minutes gone and Luton are enjoying a good spell, Dons skipper Kedwell knows this and his sense of frustration is evident. Gnakpa threatens the Dons defence once more, but is fouled by Brett Johnson and the first booking of the day is made. With five minutes before half time, AFC Wimbledon have a decent spell and their supporters are lifted. Good runs are made down the wings, but lack of numbers or poor delivery means the chances are lost. The official holds up the board to indicate 2 minutes of time added on and with it a booking for Luton’s Keith Keane. Half-time. Those around discuss a first half of wasted possession and an AFC Wimbledon team that currently has a midfield that appears to be playing too deep. Others around me continue with the mantra that one goal will be enough to win it.
The Orange Army no longer glimmers in the late May sunshine. They stay and applaud their team as the players collect their loser’s medals. I turn to watch the scenes of joy at the Dons end of the stadium as they leap and hug each other and as players bring their children onto the pitch. Amidst it all the managers congratulate/commiserate with each other. As the Dons climb the stairs to collect their prize, I glance to look where the Luton massed ranks were – there now is only empty light blue seats. With Danny Kedwell raising the Trophy, the fans erupt into cheers once more. Now as the players make their way to the pitch podium for more pictures a new chorus emerges from the travelling Dons fans, “…9 years, it only took 9 years, it only took 9 years…” Yes, just a nine year journey from the Combined Counties League to the Football League. Another remarkable story in the history of a remarkable club.
My match day experience is not complete unless I am able to get a programme. Over the years there have been just four games when this has happened. Thanks to the Internet the ability to try and get hold of those missing programmes has become easier. Just this week I managed to track down one of the missing four. The game in question was an FA Cup 4th Round game between Chelsea and Birmingham City at Stamford Bridge in 1975. One of the things about programmes for me is the memories that they evoke, in the same way songs, smells or photographs do for other people. They are in their own way a piece of social history. But it is also for me about being there, the shared experience and a confirming of your existence.
When I lived in London, I would regularly watch around 50 games a season. As well as watching my beloved Fulham, I spend many a Saturday at Plough Lane watching Wimbledon in the Southern League and Tooting & Mitcham in the Isthmian League. It was a chance to watch football without stress, it was cheaper and invariably had a sense of a greater belonging – a friendliness. That is not to say that the football was any less committed, that supporters were less fanatical or rivalries were less intense. I didn’t feel that I was being taken advantage of or being bombarded by advertising and merchandising. Many club officials and those working in the bars and refreshments areas were volunteers and so provided an honesty and integrity when attending the games. Two stand-out memories from those days occurred at Plough Lane and showed a career on the rise and one on the way down. In a London Senior Cup tie in 1978/79 season a 17 year old Dave Beasant played for Edgware Town against Wimbledon. He had a stormer of a game and was later signed up by the Dons on the way to a long and event filled career. A couple of years earlier, Geoff Hurst, cut a rather sad figure leading the forward line as player-manager of Telford United. Not a great memory of England’s 1966 hat-trick hero.