JONATHAN SHEIKH-MILLER says Duncan Ferguson has come a long way from the controversial firebrand of his playing days…
WHEN I first saw Big Dunc in the flesh, he was even bigger and brawnier than I had imagined.
A Scouser mate had waxed lyrical to me about this six foot four lump of granite as we once made a slightly hazy journey through the drinking holes of Wavertree.
I didn’t remember much from that night but his love for Duncan Ferguson stayed with me.
To be fair, I saw him in the early noughties, after his second coming to Goodison, and so Big Dunc’s back-story was already writ large: his record breaking transfer fee when he joined Rangers, his subsequent failure, his many off-field scrapes but the most infamous, and shameful being an on-field one involving Jock McStay, and his own subsequent stay at her Majesty’s pleasure.
Ferguson was like a throw-back to the days when Joe Jordan’s toothless snarl would be the pervading image from Match of the Day.
Dunc wasn’t just big; he was big and tough. We’ve all watched great, strapping strikers who would crash dramatically to the ground when brushed against by wingers with all the physicality of Charles Hawtrey. But that wasn’t really Dunc’s style.
When I finally saw him live Ferguson was just on the wane; for a start he was injured more often than he was fit. He was strong yet his body was increasingly brittle.
On his day, though, he was a world-class forward; combative, direct and a terrible handful for any centre-back. The memory of Big Dunc aggressively wrestling United’s Jaap Stam (a fearsome looking fella himself) to the ground remains vivid to this day. Premier League defenders earned their salaries the day Duncan came to town.
Injuries, coupled with his £34,000-a-week salary, marked him out as a pretty mixed signing for Everton the second time around.
This story is from the October/November 2017 edition of Late Tackle Football Magazine.
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This story is from the October/November 2017 edition of Late Tackle Football Magazine.
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