On the eve of a Celtic European tie 25 years ago, Stiliyan Petrov cut an increasingly agitated figure. The young midfielder, soon to shoot to prominence under Martin O’Neill, was finding it impossible to snatch the ball from a rotund, wizened coach during a possession drill. Petrov’s teammates were cackling with laughter. John Robertson’s brilliance was understated enough in Scotland. Word of his talent in the game was never likely to reach Petrov as he grew up in deepest Bulgaria.
Petrov is part of a recent generation who owe a debt of gratitude to Robertson the coach. More of them later. When news of Robertson’s death filtered through on Christmas Day, the prevailing sense was that his country had lost one of a kind. He was also an individual who, for reasons associated with his own modesty, really never received the kudos he deserved in the land of his birth.
Robertson was two-footed (albeit much more devastating with his left), capable of a bamboozling switch of pace over five yards and a wondrous crosser. He was Brian Clough’s favourite, for goodness sake; a footballer key to two crucial European Cup final goals. It is a pity that only now may Robertson be properly cherished in Scotland. Robertson was very different in style to Denis Law and Kenny Dalglish. It should not be sacrilege to suggest he was their footballing peer.
There has never been any worry in Nottingham about Robertson’s contribution being unheralded. Robertson was adored there, almost from the moment Clough instigated a positional switch – central midfield to the left flank – and ordered this 22-year-old to at least moderate a lifestyle which revolved around fags and a frying pan. Robertson was an outside left rather than a winger, a player who made the improbable look so blissfully easy. Clough gave him scope to do as he pleased. In Forest’s halcyon days, Robertson was among the best in Europe.
Clough’s depiction of Robertson in his autobiography was unsparing, as a “scruffy, unfit, uninterested waste of time”. Indeed, Robertson had been on the transfer list (where he was barely attracting attention) until Clough sprinkled magic dust. The Scot could, however, assert the benefit was mutual. Robertson at his peak was so heavily influential in Clough’s triumphs.
Robertson’s depiction of his finest goal does not involve the 20th minute in the Santiago Bernabéu on 28 May 1980. The solitary goal as Forest successfully defended the European Cup against Hamburg was nudged into second place by events against England at Wembley the following year. Davie Provan plays through Stevie Archibald, who is knocked over by Bryan Robson. “I screamed: ‘Penalty!’” Robertson recalled. “Then I thought: ‘Oh God, I’m taking it.’” Club loyalties counted for nothing as Trevor Francis – whom Robertson had set up when Forest won the European Cup in 1979 – ran 30 yards to issue words of advice to Joe Corrigan in the England goal. Robertson duly sent Corrigan the wrong way.
Scotland have won at Wembley once since. Robertson’s 28 caps feel like scant reward for his brilliance, even from a time when international fixtures were less common and Scotland had an abundance of options. He featured in two World Cups (openly admitting he did not enjoy the 1978 version), with the fact his national service spanned only five years – 1978 to 1983 – explaining the low tally.
O’Neill and Robertson were to become great friends. There was a strand of jealousy, though, when O’Neill bit back at a Clough half-time tirade. O’Neill questioned why Robertson was always spared criticism despite occasional selfishness or wastefulness. “Because, young man, that lad is a bloody genius,” Clough retorted. And Robertson was, while insisting he was only the second-best player to emerge from the Viewpark estate in Uddingston near Glasgow. It is for others to determine whether Jimmy Johnstone or Robertson was the superior export. That is one hell of a debate.
Clough’s faith in Robertson was absolute. For a manager prone to such whim, that has always been intriguing. O’Neill displayed similar trust; the duo formed a great bond at Wycombe, Norwich, Leicester, Celtic and Aston Villa. Robertson’s strength as a coach was in earning the trust of players who loved his style. No airs or graces, no bullshit, but a deep understanding of the game and its actors. O’Neill trusted Robertson’s judgment implicitly. That Celtic squad especially was one with strong characters. One of them, Chris Sutton, has described Robertson as a “mentor”. Sutton, Petrov and others quickly came to learn exactly who John Robertson was when the man himself would never have told them. With O’Neill such an adept frontman, it suited Robertson perfectly to linger in the shadows.
There was background tragedy of which Robertson rarely spoke. His brother and sister-in-law were killed in a 1979 car crash in a vehicle Robertson had gifted to them. Robertson scored a diving header against Cologne days later. He reckoned his own father died of a broken heart within a year. Robertson’s daughter, Jessica, died at 13 in 1996 having been born with cerebral palsy.
Robertson’s switch to Derby famously caused an irreparable row between Clough and Taylor. Clough was in the wrong by leaving his player with at least the sense he was not wanted any more amid recovery from a knee injury. Taylor used an element of inside knowledge to offer a three-year deal. Clough’s outrage would have been better aimed closer to home. Robertson regretted going to Derby – a move made against the advice of his wife – with his thoughts in that period understandably dominated by Jessica’s health. It was no wonder his playing career fizzled out.
It is poetic that O’Neill returned to manage Celtic, successfully, on an interim basis so recently. The club has changed beyond all recognition since his first tenure. The makeup of his coaching staff had to, as well. Still, it is to be hoped that Robertson was well enough to enjoy his close friend, at 73, rolling back the years with victories over Rangers and in sparkling fashion against Feyenoord. The Scottish champions described the O’Neill and Robertson alliance as overseeing “one of the most successful periods in Celtic’s history”. Those five years marked the only spell from 1970 until 2025 when Robertson did not live in the Nottingham area. An adopted home for an adopted hero.
