Arbroath is no different to managing Celtic. You just have to make the best of what you’ve got
“I have never really been out of the game”
“There is no funnier team talk than ours”
NO subject under the sun has ever been off limits with Dick Campbell. Ask about how he’s taken Arbroath from the lower echelons of League Two to the top of League One in little over two years, the account you get is forensic.
Enquire about the reasons behind the eight-game touchline ban he is presently serving (on top of five plus two suspended from last year) and the explanation is typically forthright.
As for his battle with kidney cancer and the shadow he lives under each day? No details are spared.
Only once in a 20-minute conversation does one of Scottish football’s great characters take umbrage at one of Sportsmail’s questions.
The miner’s son from Hill of Beath turned 65 yesterday. The suggestion that he might be approaching a stage in life where one contemplates engaging a lower gear feels about as welcome as a dog with fleas.
‘You’re joking, aren’t you?’ he replies. ‘We went for a bite to eat and to watch a Motown show in Edinburgh... a few old school pals and my brothers. Then we’ll have a wee game of golf on Friday.
‘But we’ve got the biggest game in the world on Saturday. Never mind England playing Croatia. We’re playing Stranraer at home. It’s the biggest because it’s the next one.’
It’s a forward-thinking outlook which has served him well for half a century in the game. For all Campbell is viewed by many as a standard bearer for oldschool management, you don’t earn the trust of so many unless you have expertise to offer and an enviable track record.
‘In all my years, I’ve been lucky that I’ve never really been out of the game,’ he reflects.
‘I might not always have had a manager’s job but I’ve always been out there looking at games and players and getting information.’
With the exception of his spell as assistant to Bert Paton at Dunfermline, his many successes have largely come down the divisions. He guided Brechin City from the fourth to the second tier, took Forfar up from League Two and presently has the Red Lichties ten points clear at the top of League One, having won the bottom division title in 2017.
No one, not even Angus’ adopted footballing son, dares to put an exact figure on the number of times he’s sat in a dugout since a brief spell in charge of Cowdenbeath in 1987. But, by common consent, he’s now well beyond the 1,300 mark. A landmark birthday this week or not, he has little time for reflection. ‘I’ve been in this game too long to start thinking about what you’ve done,’ he explains. ‘On February 8 last year, we were 11 points behind Forfar (in League Two), so I don’t get caught up in all that p***. ‘But you can only be happy with where we are at the moment. We finished last season well and I thought the players who came in were as good if not better than the ones that went out.’
His contentment with the calibre of those who have won their past five games is matched by his pride in the individuals who eke as much as humanly possible from them over the course of two nights and a Saturday afternoon.
‘I’ve got the best staff in the world,’ he insists. ‘My (twin) brother (Ian) and John Young have both been managers. We sadly lost (goalkeeping coach) John Ritchie in the summer, so Rab Douglas has come in now.
‘They blow the balls up, fill the water bottles and organise training. I don’t do anything.
‘If you’ve got staff like I’ve got, you just let them get on with it.’
Self-effacement and modesty are all very well but, frankly, we’re not buying it. Campbell’s record over a prolonged period suggests he knows what buttons to press on players at the right moments.
‘I never said it was easy,’ he added. ‘I’ve just never wanted to come across as a big head.
‘I reckon I’m the same guy I was when I was 15. But I feel I’m better now as a manager than I’ve ever been in my life because I can manage people.’
This is where the day job fortuitously bleeds into 3pm on a Saturday. Campbell is managing director of Avenue Scotland, the Dunfermline-based recruitment agency which just happens to be owned by his brother Ian.
‘Absolutely,’ he replies when asked if both jobs complement each other. ‘It’s all about knowing people. You would do well to find a funnier team talk than ours anywhere in the country.
‘We don’t listen to all those numpties who go around shouting and swearing at people. We stay away from aggression.
‘What means more to me is seeing players enjoying themselves.
‘I was the same when I was full-time at Dunfermline, Partick and Ross County.
‘It’s not any different managing Arbroath than Celtic for me. You’ve still got to manage them and make the best of what you’ve got.’
Hold on a minute, though. Wasn’t it Dick and his famous bunnet we saw marching on to Somerset Park in January for the rant to beat all rants after seeing a key decision go against his side?
‘I didn’t realise until I got home at night how far I was on the pitch,’ he concedes. ‘I must have been 20 yards on.
‘But anyone who knows anything about football would know that it wasn’t a rugby tackle on my player. It was a wrestling tackle.
‘And the referee didn’t give a penalty kick. As a result of that, Ayr United then got Rangers live on the telly.’
Okay, everyone has their moments. But what of this season’s transgression? Given his marching orders at Stark’s Park in October for confronting an official, he won’t sit in the dugout again this year on account of the ban he’s incurred.
‘I swore at the referee and you can’t do that,’ he admits. ‘In Fife, if you are from a mining background, it’s a term of endearment.
‘Listen, 20 years ago Hugh Dallas, Kenny Hope or Willie Young would have said “Dick, sit on your a*** and get on with it”. Now, there’s just no rapport. The linesmen and referees spend their 90 minutes telling us to get back in the dugout.
‘I don’t make the rules but I’ve no complaints. But see those idiots who spend 90 minutes effing and blinding and abusing football managers? They should be barred for ten weeks, as well.’
You are inclined to wonder why he still sweats the small stuff. In March 2011, Campbell collapsed and was diagnosed with cancer in both kidneys. A heavy smoker all his days, surgery ensured his absence from the game was only temporary.
‘I’ve been very fortunate that when they diagnosed me I was operated on and, thankfully, they managed to cut it out,’ he says.
‘Touch wood, it’s not returned. I still go and get everything tested every three months. It keeps me on the golf course at Gleneagles.
‘I was at the hospital again this week for another check-up. It’s been a long time now. But cancer never really goes away.’
Mercifully, these days, it’s only in his thoughts rather than his organs. And aren’t the good people of Arbroath thankful for that.
Now a club so synonymous with gales whipping in off the North Sea are currently enjoying the air that’s presently in their sails. With Campbell at the helm, the direction of travel can only be upwards.