DENIS THE MENACE

18 gen 2025 - Daily Record

ARCHIE MACPHERSON ON SCOTLAND HERO DENIS LAW

»Broadcaster pays tribute to icon who plundered so many goals in the dark blue

»From the highs of 1961 Czechoslovakia win to lows of 1974 World Cup and beyond any time denis represented his country, he carried the possibility of victory for us 

   - ARCHIE ON LAW’S IMPACT FOR SCOTLAND

A GOAL by Denis law was no mere statistic.

It could be like you were witnessing a comet flashing across the sky, his blond mop a beacon of crowning glory as he would turn away from the achievement, his hand raised in triumph like he had just fulfilled his side of a bargain he had set with the terracing masses with whom there was mutual devotion.

I witnessed this for the first time on September 26, 1961, when Scotland were trailing a great Czechoslovakia team 2-1 in the second-half at Hampden.

Denis’s two goals to win the match, particularly his searing second, was like he had endowed himself with a special responsibility to be the irrepressible saviour of the Scottish cause.

Indeed, in the years thereafter, you need only have mentioned the name “Denis” within any company anywhere in the world and faces would light up as if you were reminding them of someone who truly personified the undying optimism of the Scottish character that would produce the cheery irreverence of playing golf rather than watch England win the World Cup in 1966.

He donned the dark-blue jersey 55 times and it seemed like when he went to Wembley in particular he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, like a man conscious that his birthright was at stake in the very home of English football.

His opening goal there on April 15, 1967, which led Scotland to become “unofficial World Champions” by beating the then-holders 3-2, seemed to us like he was puncturing an oversized ego that surrounded him daily in English club football.

Of course, we had other great players that day like Baxter, Bremner, Gemmell and such, but it was the stirring goalscorer who seemed to carry our aspirations more.

For any time Denis represented his country, anywhere – except on one sad occasion – he carried the possibility of victory for us with the potential always there of his elusiveness, the sudden fleetness of foot, and the uncanny timing, all combining in a flash to stun any defence. And yet, 13 years after first watching him create the Czechoslovakian triumph, I had the dubious distinction of commentating on his last-ever game for Scotland on a muggy evening in Dortmund on June 22, 1974, in our opening World Cup game against Zaire.

My co-commentator, a certain Jock Stein, did not approve of the Willie Ormond selection.

He candidly felt Denis would not be up to the task but publicly, on the mic, was discreet about his reservations.

But, of course, Jock was right.

By comparison with the Denis Law of renown, what we saw was a ghostly apparition. Coming down from the television platform after watching only a 2-0 victory which was relevant to our eventual downfall, I vividly recall these stark words of Jock “Denis is finished at this level”. To my ears, they sounded like an epitaph. Nevertheless, Denis made it clear that he wanted to play against the world champions Brazil in the next game, which forced Jock to express, straight to camera, his concern that he would not like to see this iconic figure being made to look just like a relic. Denis, in fact, would never wear that jersey again. Selected to face Brazil, though, was the young man who was to go on and equal Denis’s national team goalscoring record of 30 goals, 10 years later. Kenny Dalglish, like the other Scottish players, realising he was watching the end of a special phenomenon, was still deeply respectful of him. The squad view was best summarised for me by colleague defender Davie Hay speaking of his boyhood hero.

“He was far from his best. But, importantly, not once throughout did he act like Denis Law the Superstar. He was one of the boys. That’s how I’ll remember him.”

As I will. For when he retired from football, he became a regular BBC radio correspondent.

We travelled many miles together watching European games and World Cups.

I particularly recall the World Cup in Mexico in 1986, when Sir Alex Ferguson was temporary manager of Scotland.

After the first match against Denmark, when Charlie Nicholas was brutally tackled and put out of the tournament, the Scottish media were coincidentally banned from the Scotland camp by the SFA secretary Ernie Walker for some criticism that had been levelled against his organisation.

Denis was now no longer the greatest Scottish striker of all time at that moment but simply part of that pesky lot called the media.

However, when Fergie, as we called him then, heard that the great man was outside the barriers he came out, held court and answered questions from both of us in defiance of his employer.

I suddenly felt privileged that I could boast to my grand-weans of the day Denis and I were of equal status. And then, when I suggested jokingly that he was coming down in the world being on the wrong side of the barrier, he suddenly challenged me to climb the adjacent Aztec pyramid towering over the area. He beat me to the top despite his fragile knees. Now, which Aztec dignitary in the erecting of this amazing structure could have possibly imagined that sitting atop it, 1000 years later, would be two Scots in profound discussion about how Scotland could possibly cope against West Germany in the next game without a player he admired, Charlie Nicholas. It was with that impish Law chortle that he concluded that, without Charlie, the Aztecs entombed below us would have a better chance against the Krauts than Scotland. Unsurprisingly, he knew what he was talking about. Which is why I mentioned Mexico in the speech I delivered at the dinner for the Freedom of the City of Aberdeen, awarded to Denis on November 25, 2017. I’m thankful that on that evening we shared treasured memories before dementia was brutally to reshape his life in later years and bring finality. What will never be reshaped is the affection for a man who made goalscoring for his native land seem like he was telling the world: “Wha daur meddle wi me!”