Big Dunc – From Barlinnie hell to Goodison heaven

Duncan Ferguson is describing the darkness of his early life as the sun beats through a window in a studio by the River Clyde.

Barlinnie Prison, where he spent 44 days and nights, is six miles away and 30 years in the distance, but right now, as he discusses the opening chapters of his autobiography, he’s back there.

Ferguson’s life story – the recently published Big Dunc – couldn’t begin anywhere else. 1994 Ibrox Rangers vs. Raith Rovers John McStay, a ‘ headbutt ‘ while on probation for some fracas at a taxi rank and then a jail sentence in its wake. He calls it “Hell,” as he prefers.

Tom English: You were 23 when you went inside. Reading what you witnessed, I cannot believe that they sent you to a place like that.

Duncan Ferguson: I’d locked it away until I started to do the book. It all returns in a flash. I couldn’t do that time now. I don’t believe I can handle it.

Back then, it was frightening. How did you manage to get through it, in some cases, when you look back and wonder? How did you actually get through that? since you are independent. There’s nobody backing you up, there’s nobody helping you.

You assert that there was some level of excitement involved.

DF: I was upset. I was concerned. I was frightened. I was, of course. But I was also a wee bit excited to see what the nick was like. because I was a moron when I was younger.

You’ve seen the movies, haven’t you? You’ve seen movies about prisons, and you wondered what life was like there. So there was a wee bit of that, maybe not excitement, but certainly I was intrigued to what was actually going to happen in there.

TE: How long was that?

DF: Not long. since I realized it was hell.

TE: You describe your first night inside – the lights go out and the voices in the dark.

DF: I’m at the end of that bed. Everything echoed. They are yelling at you. You’re going to get cut in the morning’. That is what transpired. They pinpoint where you are.

They seemed to be concentrating on me. You’re worried sick. You must confront that in the morning. I never slept a wink all night. I was terrified. I’m going to walk out on this landing in the morning and you think someone’s going to stick a knife in you.

TE: You ended up in the kitchen, right?

DF: The hospital wing. You have specialized positions. The first few days, I’d slop out on the wing.

Inmates who were getting cut, slashed, or otherwise harming themselves were placed in a block in the middle of the prison. The paedophiles and that. Some of them are kept there.

It wasn’t too bad, because you’re away from the main population during the day.

And there, you were instructed to go to a young boy’s counsel.

DF: I can’t remember his name, but he tried to take his own life. He had entered the hospital’s wing. The guards had found out that he’d played for the Rangers as a kid. I was told to go see him and speak with him.

TE: You were only a kid yourself.

DF: Do you not believe that you are a man? I thought I was a man. Everything I have is boxed-off. I was just a baby.

The boy was acting rudely toward me and we had to meet up. He told me a wee bit of his story. Although he played football well, things never quite ended up being right. He got released. He ended up using drugs.

As Ferguson recounts his spats in his early life, all the fighting and the endless grief, you ask him what he would say to his teenage self if he could sit him down now and talk to him.

Don’t drink, DF. That would be the first thing I’d say to myself. I’ve had a lot of trouble in my life because of booze. We were young. We had exited the estates. Everybody drunk. I might have left if I hadn’t been intoxicated at the time of these events.

TE: Your upbringing. You call yourself a stupid, foolish laddie. But then you also say, I see myself as shy. Nobody is really familiar with me. You look at the pages and stories you tell in your book, it doesn’t look like the life of a shy young man.

DF: I don’t have any friends to this day. Good friends. I had no interest. At school, I was on my own with my ball. I went to school with my ball. I never mixed. My dog and I went out. I had my ferrets. I didn’t mix anything. I never mixed with my team-mates. Few of my friends were there, but I did. I was a bit shy. I’m just starting to get out of my shell.

TE: You’re shy, but you were fond of a night out. It returns to drinking once more. These fights at taxi ranks. This violent person uses crutches.

DF: I can’t remember him on a crutch. He swung a tiny bit at me. I was daft. I had a bad o. You’re chasing girls. I was 16 or 17 years old. Stirling’s a small place. I became a target. I was Duncan Ferguson, the football player. Take a look at his walking. Look at the way he’s drinking that beer. Watch his dancing as you watch. He thinks he’s gallus. I was being approached by people.

TE: I’ll read you a quote from the book, after some sort of incident. You were seen by the police. “I was laid out on the sofa, rotten, stinking drunk, buck naked, aside for a pink hat that someone had given me earlier. I wore a silk glove, an earring, and lipstick. Now that’s a picture.

DF: I can’t recall the police arriving. I was on the couch, gone. That is correct. It was one of those crazy nights. For Dundee United, I won young player of the year. We went into Anstruther. Not pleasant to look at. I’m sure it wasn’t a pretty sight for the police when they came to have a look at me.

TE: Your parents must have been concerned about you at this time. Is there guilt there?

Absolutely, DF. My mum and dad, I put them through it. In the morning, that phone rings. Somebody knocks on the door. My parents and I endure hell.

TE: You’re a dad now and you can put yourself in their shoes.

When Ferguson left Tannadice and joined Rangers for £4m, the move was the measure of his dreams.

He played for the Rangers. He revered the manager, Walter Smith. He adored Ally McCoist, a famous striker.

The whole thing became a nightmare. Lack of game-time, scrutiny, trouble, minders, and claustrophobia in a wild living. And then he went for McStay.

Smith told him that he had to leave Glasgow for his own good after placing him down. Sentencing was coming – Barlinnie not far away – but in the meantime he needed a new start. He obtained a three-month loan from Everton, which led to a love affair.

TE: When Walter said you had to go, how did you feel?

When he said it, DF: I cried out in my eyes. I’d let him down. I’m sure he was telling me I was returning after the loan, but I’m not sure if he was right at the time. But I cried. I had gotten it wrong. I was drinking heavier. I had lost all control.

TE: The book is so honest. It’s a fantastic read. You weren’t at Everton long and you got done for drink driving.

DF: Yes, that’s correct. On my own. the center of the city. Saturday night. What do you do? I went for a drink, stupidly. I’m out on a Saturday night and have a game against Liverpool on Monday. Nuts.

TE: Joe Royle’s first game as manager of Everton?

DF: Yeah and I’m in the police station, 3am Sunday. Monday at Liverpool. The star striker’s in the nick.

TE: That story has a satisfying conclusion.

DF: Yeah, they let me out.

TE: You did, yes, but you did well.

DF: Of course. I’m not that, is it? That’s me. No instruction. In the jail. Leave, and the rest will be history. I battered them. particularly the second half. Guilt. That was the focus of my efforts. Guilt.

And you win the FA Cup, TE? You scored 73 goals in 273 games for Everton across two spells spanning a decade. Down there, they adore you. How long did it take for you to realise Everton – this is the place for me?

DF: Approximately a week. Once I was in that city, I wasn’t coming back. I didn’t mind. Nobody was targeting me. They were aware of me, but it wasn’t a Rangers-Celtic thing, was it? There’s no sectarianism. I experienced freedom. And I was fitter. And I was receiving minutes.

TE: Why does this club mean so much to you?

DF: I was taken over by the fans. There was never any trouble off the pitch, only the drink driving offence. At the club, they needed someone like me. The team wasn’t very good. They had a strong Scottish number nine tradition. I fitted that mould.

TE: They could sense the sincerity.

DF: I was aggressive. That was liked by the fans. They wanted somebody to get stuck in for them. Then, everything flipped for me. You’re playing against Liverpool, Man Utd, Chelsea, Arsenal and Tottenham. You are competing with some formidable adversaries. It brought the best out of me. I still adore the city. I still live down there. It’s a fantastic setting.

TE: Striker, captain and then manager. That must have been cosmic, in your opinion?

DF: What a feeling. It was a truly amazing experience for both my life and my career. One that I’ll never forget. I had first led the team, I had many goals scored for the club, and then I had to run them. So I’ve done it all there, really.

TE: You praised Carlo Ancelotti at Everton and worked for him.

DF: I was on my mate’s boat in Croatia, right? And his own boat is in the area. He’s on the phone. “I’m coming to see you,” “OK, no problem, Carlo”.

It’s not hard to understand the reasons why Ferguson brought a madly premature end to his Scotland career. Everything dates back to the tragic McStay incident.

The Scottish FA handed down a 12-match ban before his court case ever came around. He thought the executioner, jury, and judge were present.

When he came out of Barlinnie, they went after him again, trying to force through that suspension even though he had done time in prison and was now at Everton.

He referred to the McStay incident as a vindictive pursuit while reminding you that he was in jail and that “I didn’t even get a yellow card.”

TE: You quit Scotland in December 1994. You claim that you lost all love for Scotland. I felt bitter. I chucked it because I thought the Scottish press had unfairly treated me.

DF: I should have played. A great deal of regret exists. I should have played. I drafted numerous squads. Craig Brown, God bless him, protected me. He simply stated that I was hurt. I told him I didn’t want to go and play for Scotland anymore. He declared, “You’re crazy, man!” My heart wasn’t in it. I visited several times. I didn’t like it.

TE: You requested Austria 96 and Estonia 97, but that was it. Stubborn?

My God, DF. I wish I could go back, but you can’t, can you? You are a young man. You’re daft. You simply don’t pay attention.

I was on my honeymoon in the Bahamas during the 1998 World Cup. Brazil, we played, didn’t we? I should have been kicking off the ball. False . I was in my prime then as well.

They asked me to return every year for 14 years. Bertie Vogts came to Everton. I stroked his teeth. Didn’t even take him into a wee room, sit him down and listen to his spiel.

Of course, there was more. More on his early years, more on his Dundee United boss Jim McLean – who fined him so heavily once that Ferguson’s pay packet was minus £10 – more on Barlinnie, Rangers, Everton, Newcastle, his financial bankruptcy, his stints in management and his desire to have another go.

He looks good at age 53. Is he happy? “No, I’m not entirely happy,” it’s true. I don’t think any of us are totally happy. I’m in a good mood. You know, I’ve been in a lot worse place. You know what I mean when I look down the backs of sofas for a few dollars?

” So I’m not there. I’m also well. I’m off the booze. I’m assuming that I’ll be the next man. My dream is to be a manager at the top. That is what I desire. And when that happens, I’ll be a real happy man. “