extract from Roy's book in today's Red News, in turn quoted:
From the book via the Times
AROUND THIS time, a friend of Kenny Dalglish’s contacted me to inform me that the Blackburn manager wanted to meet me. Alan Shearer had just rejected a move to Man United — from Southampton — to join Blackburn, whose drive for the Premier League title was being funded by Jack Walker.
An arrangement was made to meet Dalglish and Ray Harford, the Blackburn coach, at David O’Leary’s house in Hertfordshire. They asked about my contractual situation at Forest. When I told them I had been offered a new contract, they urged me not to sign. And if I did sign, to make sure I inserted a clause that would allow me to leave Forest if they were relegated. It was made clear to me that Blackburn would be willing to pay a British transfer record of £3.5 million to close the deal.
I knew “tapping” players in this way was against the rules, but par for the course in the game. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the duplicity involved, but knowing there was an alternative to going down with Forest enabled me to negotiate from a position of strength.
While Ron Fenton (Brian Clough’s No 2) and I talked, media speculation intensified. Brian Clough went public to accuse me of being “a greedy child”. Newspapers claimed that I was demanding £1 million over three years to commit myself to Forest. That figure was roughly correct. Through his intermediary, Dalglish had intimated that my wages at Blackburn would be £250,000 a year with a £500,000 signing-on fee.
In the middle of yet another bout of negotiating Clough insisted: “Ron, give Roy what he wants.” The contract was drawn up with the get-out clause in place. I was delighted to sign a 3½-year contract, although in my bones I felt that I would probably never see it out. (Nottingham Forest were relegated and Clough resigned.)
Frank Clark, appointed to succeed Clough, left the impression that, if any Premier League club was prepared to pay the right fee, Forest wouldn’t stand in my way if I wanted to move. We had an understanding. Now it was up to Blackburn. Dalglish moved quickly. After some haggling, a fee of £4 million was agreed. I was given permission to talk to Blackburn. The main issue in my discussions with them was wages.
I’d heard that Shearer was on £500,000 a year, so that’s what I demanded. After some bargaining, I accepted their offer of £400,000 a year. Dalglish’s obvious intelligence and cool persona impressed me. Terms agreed, I was ready to sign. But when Dalglish phoned Ewood Park, the office staff had left for the weekend. “Don’t worry,” he said, “you can sign the forms on Monday.” We shook hands.
I went home to Cork for the weekend and at lunchtime on the Sunday the phone rang. It was Alex Ferguson.
“Roy, it’s Alex Ferguson here. Have you signed any forms?” “No, but I shook hands on the deal and I’m due to sign the forms tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you come to Manchester and have a chat with me before you do anything?” Wow! Manchester United. The Premier League champions. My mam and dad, Hilary and my brothers are all standing in the hall looking at me. Like they’re in shock. My family were United daft.
“Yes, but I have agreed the deal,” I tell Ferguson.
“You’ve signed nothing. Come over for a chat.”
From that moment, I was never going to sign for any other club. In my heart of hearts I knew I could never refuse to sign for the world’s most famous football club.
Next morning I flew to Manchester. Ferguson met me at the airport. We drove to his home close by. Brian Kidd was there. After a meal and some general chat, Ferguson suggested we have a game of snooker. I thought it prudent to let him win. I liked him straight away. For a man managing Manchester United, he was unaffected, funny and reassuringly human. He was also clearly hungry for more trophies. There were a few obstacles to overcome before a deal could be done. We agreed that I would tell Dalglish our deal was off.
I phoned Dalglish to tell him I’d changed my mind about joining Blackburn. He went crazy.
“What the f*** do you mean?” I told him I’d talked to Ferguson.
“We shook hands on a deal. You can’t back out now,” he screamed.
“Look, I’m sorry, I really am,” I told him, “but I’ve got my future to think about, I’m entitled to that.”
“You’re entitled to nothing except the commitment you made to me on Friday.”
“I’m sorry, if you’d had the forms ready, I would have signed on Friday.”
“Nobody does this to me, nobody does this to Kenny Dalglish. You’re a wee b*stard and you won’t get away with this.” Kenny wasn’t cool any longer.
I felt very uneasy about the situation. But here was Kenny Dalglish insisting that I honour a deal I hadn’t signed. The same Kenny Dalglish who’d spent several months “tapping” me up behind Brian Clough’s back. The more he swore at me, the less my conscience bothered me.
The next call I received was from Frank Clark. I confirmed that after talking to Ferguson I had changed my mind. Clark had also received a call from Ferguson. Unlike Blackburn, who were going to pay £4 million, United would only pay just over £3 million. That was unacceptable, so Clark wanted me to sign for Dalglish in the interests of Forest.
The next morning the phone rang at 6.30. I thought something was wrong at home in Cork. It was Dalglish.
“You won’t get away with this,” he began. “Blackburn Rovers will sue you for every penny you’ve got.” He and Ferguson had never got on and this more than anything appeared to be bugging him. He called me names. He repeated that nobody “f*****” with Kenny Dalglish and “got away with it”. I told him I was going on holiday and that the matter was closed as far as I was concerned.
“Where are you going?” he inquired.
“Somewhere far away and sunny,” I replied.
From the book via the Times
AROUND THIS time, a friend of Kenny Dalglish’s contacted me to inform me that the Blackburn manager wanted to meet me. Alan Shearer had just rejected a move to Man United — from Southampton — to join Blackburn, whose drive for the Premier League title was being funded by Jack Walker.
An arrangement was made to meet Dalglish and Ray Harford, the Blackburn coach, at David O’Leary’s house in Hertfordshire. They asked about my contractual situation at Forest. When I told them I had been offered a new contract, they urged me not to sign. And if I did sign, to make sure I inserted a clause that would allow me to leave Forest if they were relegated. It was made clear to me that Blackburn would be willing to pay a British transfer record of £3.5 million to close the deal.
I knew “tapping” players in this way was against the rules, but par for the course in the game. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the duplicity involved, but knowing there was an alternative to going down with Forest enabled me to negotiate from a position of strength.
While Ron Fenton (Brian Clough’s No 2) and I talked, media speculation intensified. Brian Clough went public to accuse me of being “a greedy child”. Newspapers claimed that I was demanding £1 million over three years to commit myself to Forest. That figure was roughly correct. Through his intermediary, Dalglish had intimated that my wages at Blackburn would be £250,000 a year with a £500,000 signing-on fee.
In the middle of yet another bout of negotiating Clough insisted: “Ron, give Roy what he wants.” The contract was drawn up with the get-out clause in place. I was delighted to sign a 3½-year contract, although in my bones I felt that I would probably never see it out. (Nottingham Forest were relegated and Clough resigned.)
Frank Clark, appointed to succeed Clough, left the impression that, if any Premier League club was prepared to pay the right fee, Forest wouldn’t stand in my way if I wanted to move. We had an understanding. Now it was up to Blackburn. Dalglish moved quickly. After some haggling, a fee of £4 million was agreed. I was given permission to talk to Blackburn. The main issue in my discussions with them was wages.
I’d heard that Shearer was on £500,000 a year, so that’s what I demanded. After some bargaining, I accepted their offer of £400,000 a year. Dalglish’s obvious intelligence and cool persona impressed me. Terms agreed, I was ready to sign. But when Dalglish phoned Ewood Park, the office staff had left for the weekend. “Don’t worry,” he said, “you can sign the forms on Monday.” We shook hands.
I went home to Cork for the weekend and at lunchtime on the Sunday the phone rang. It was Alex Ferguson.
“Roy, it’s Alex Ferguson here. Have you signed any forms?” “No, but I shook hands on the deal and I’m due to sign the forms tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you come to Manchester and have a chat with me before you do anything?” Wow! Manchester United. The Premier League champions. My mam and dad, Hilary and my brothers are all standing in the hall looking at me. Like they’re in shock. My family were United daft.
“Yes, but I have agreed the deal,” I tell Ferguson.
“You’ve signed nothing. Come over for a chat.”
From that moment, I was never going to sign for any other club. In my heart of hearts I knew I could never refuse to sign for the world’s most famous football club.
Next morning I flew to Manchester. Ferguson met me at the airport. We drove to his home close by. Brian Kidd was there. After a meal and some general chat, Ferguson suggested we have a game of snooker. I thought it prudent to let him win. I liked him straight away. For a man managing Manchester United, he was unaffected, funny and reassuringly human. He was also clearly hungry for more trophies. There were a few obstacles to overcome before a deal could be done. We agreed that I would tell Dalglish our deal was off.
I phoned Dalglish to tell him I’d changed my mind about joining Blackburn. He went crazy.
“What the f*** do you mean?” I told him I’d talked to Ferguson.
“We shook hands on a deal. You can’t back out now,” he screamed.
“Look, I’m sorry, I really am,” I told him, “but I’ve got my future to think about, I’m entitled to that.”
“You’re entitled to nothing except the commitment you made to me on Friday.”
“I’m sorry, if you’d had the forms ready, I would have signed on Friday.”
“Nobody does this to me, nobody does this to Kenny Dalglish. You’re a wee b*stard and you won’t get away with this.” Kenny wasn’t cool any longer.
I felt very uneasy about the situation. But here was Kenny Dalglish insisting that I honour a deal I hadn’t signed. The same Kenny Dalglish who’d spent several months “tapping” me up behind Brian Clough’s back. The more he swore at me, the less my conscience bothered me.
The next call I received was from Frank Clark. I confirmed that after talking to Ferguson I had changed my mind. Clark had also received a call from Ferguson. Unlike Blackburn, who were going to pay £4 million, United would only pay just over £3 million. That was unacceptable, so Clark wanted me to sign for Dalglish in the interests of Forest.
The next morning the phone rang at 6.30. I thought something was wrong at home in Cork. It was Dalglish.
“You won’t get away with this,” he began. “Blackburn Rovers will sue you for every penny you’ve got.” He and Ferguson had never got on and this more than anything appeared to be bugging him. He called me names. He repeated that nobody “f*****” with Kenny Dalglish and “got away with it”. I told him I was going on holiday and that the matter was closed as far as I was concerned.
“Where are you going?” he inquired.
“Somewhere far away and sunny,” I replied.
