Scott Duncan, the manager who masterminded Town’s entry into the Football League in 1938 and remained in charge until 1955, is a surprisingly little known figure despite a life in football which took him to Rangers, Celtic, Newcastle United and Manchester United as well as Portman Road - but veteran Scottish journalist Alex Mooney is seeking to address that.
"Some fans are on the pitch, they think it’s all over. It is now.” Kenneth Wolstenholme’s iconic commentary sent millions of England fans leaping from their chairs to celebrate.
In Scotland, the Auld Enemy’s World Cup triumph wasn’t met with the same delight. But there was one Scot north of the border who allowed himself a smile of quiet satisfaction as the cameras zoomed in on manager Alf Ramsey savouring the 1966 triumph.
He’d taken the England boss under his wing at Ipswich Town for three years to teach him the managerial ropes. By any measure, he’d succeeded.
However, there would be no boasting about his achievement. That wasn’t his style. He could have been at Wembley as Ramsey’s guest to congratulate his protege in person. Instead, a whisky with wife Mary in their Helensburgh home and a feeling of pride at a job well done would suffice.
After a lifetime in football as a player and manager at the highest level, he was virtually unknown in his homeland. More than four decades after his death, he still is.
Yet this unsung hero’s career is astonishing. He played for Rangers for six years, won the League Division One Championship and FA Cup with Newcastle, went into management with, among others, Manchester United for five years and Ipswich Town for 18 years.
At one point he was the highest-paid figure in British football. When he retired, the FA gave him a medal to honour his ‘long, distinguished service’ to the game.
His name is Scott Duncan. He was born in Dumbarton in 1888, one of seven siblings, who lived above his father’s butcher shop. He played for his school team then worked as a law clerk in the town’s sheriff office.
His promising legal career was short-lived as Dumbarton offered him professional terms when he turned 18. The skilful right-winger shone and two years later English champions Newcastle United, who dominated the game in that era, signed him.
He scored 12 times in 81 league games for the Magpies and won the First Division title in 1909 and the Charity Shield with the Geordie giants. Next season an FA Cup win earned him another medal.
In 1913, he got his dream move to boyhood heroes Rangers in a £750 transfer. He stayed at Ibrox during World War I, also serving as a signalling instructor in the Royal Field Artillery.
War-time regulations led to an extraordinary episode for the star. A rule allowed soldier players to turn out with one other side for two league games only in a season. In January, 1919, Duncan did just that - crossing the great divide to help Old Firm rivals Celtic.
In both matches the pacy winger played well and the Hoops won – against Third Lanark and Clydebank. After each game the Parkhead fans applauded him off the pitch. This prompted a pundit to gloat cheekily in the Glasgow Observer: "It was Scott’s wish to be inside a green and white jersey at least once or twice in a lifetime.”
As fate would have it, Celtic went on to win the league that season in the tightest of races by just one point - from Rangers.
In 1920 he moved to Cowdenbeath for two years then to Dumbarton before hanging up his boots at 35 to become manager of Hamilton.
He left the Accies after two seasons to boss Cowdenbeath and had seven excellent years at the club, performing near miracles to keep them in the Scottish top flight throughout. He also presided over the club’s record win which stands to this day – a 12-0 demolition of St Johnstone in the Scottish Cup in 1928.
His success attracted big guns from over the border and in 1932 Manchester United took this shrewd, intelligent operator to Old Trafford. Despite spending a lot of money on players, the Red Devils were almost relegated to the third tier in 1934. Duncan turned things around and United won the Second Division championship in 1936.
To strengthen his side for the top flight, he tried to buy a gifted young Scot from rivals Manchester City – his offer of £250 for the services of Matt Busby was turned down. Busby, of course, went on to achieve legendary status in the same managerial chair as the man who tried to buy him.
The clever Scot by now had a reputation for being a wily tactician and he was also a fine administrator with an eye for detail. In November, 1937, he was lured away from Old Trafford after Ipswich Town offered him a massive salary to take over at Portman Road.
Town supremo Ivan Cobbold was ambitious for the non-league club and the wealthy aristocrat made his new manager the highest-paid figure in British football.
Crucially, Duncan by now had many contacts throughout the game. This was important because the club wanted entry to the Football League and needed him to command the votes when it came to a final decision about whether they should replace Gillingham.
A case of the finest port was sent to his house to tempt him from Old Trafford. He was also offered a huge salary for the time of £2,000 per annum, with a bonus of £1,000 if the club’s bid was successful - and promises of further similar sums if he could take Ipswich to the top.
To put his income in context, in those days his wage was ten times more than star players got and it made him football’s top earner.
His guile and political skills succeeded in getting the Blues into the league in 1938. The defeat of Gillingham caused a sensation as, just a few weeks before, the Southern League clubs had recommended Gillingham for re-election and Town had come a poor third behind Walsall in the vote.
Under Duncan’s leadership, Ipswich campaigned hard, spending big on lobbying officials and producing an expensive glossy brochure about the club and town.
He’d more than earned his bonus and he kept the team in the professional leagues for 18 seasons and saw the Blues to the Division Three South title in 1953/54 before handing over the reins in 1955 to a rookie manager.
The club asked him to remain as secretary for another three years to ensure everything ran smoothly off the park and to mentor his successor - Alf Ramsey.
Duncan, now 70, was honoured with a testimonial match at the end of the 1958 season against Norwich City which Ipswich won 3-1. He is fondly remembered as one of the most important figures in the club’s history. And he was given a medal by the FA in honour of his ‘long, distinguished services’ to the beautiful game.
Always immaculately dressed, Duncan wasn’t a tracksuit manager but in those days that wasn’t unusual. The England footballing genius Stanley Matthews said of him: "He almost always wore a smart suit and a homburg hat. He could easily have been a bank manager.”
He was superstitious and an extremely rare seven-leaf clover was mounted on the wall of his office at Portman Road. It was given to him by an American serviceman. Interestingly, as a reciprocal gesture, his wife Mary gave American golfer Sam Snead a four-leaf clover just before he played the Open at St Andrews in 1946 - which he went on to win.
The Ipswich boss also had a reputation for being canny with money and was reluctant to involve the club in the growing fashion for spending big in the transfer market. He said: "In these days of fantastic transfer fees, fancy figures are not necessarily the hallmark of a good player.”
The sums he was talking about seem low in these days of multi-million-pound players but he was wise in pointing out the rapid rise in the level of transfer fees at that time.
He would study every claim for expenses in depth and treated Town money as though it were his own. There is a story that shows how frugal he was. The Ipswich squad were having breakfast in the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street Station and he dropped some loose change under the table. He was seen on his hands and knees, anxious to account for every penny.
Despite his conservative appearance and manner, Duncan was quite a character. Town director John Cobbold caught him watering down whisky in the referee’s room. Match officials weren’t paid at that time, they just received expenses and a few drinks. When Cobbold protested at the sacrilegious act being committed, Duncan said: "Don’t worry about it. It’s only for the bloody ref.”
After retiring, he returned to live in Scotland with Mary at Loch Drive, Helensburgh, in a detached house looking on to the Firth of Clyde. He was a member of the local Rotary Club but generally kept himself to himself and not many people in the seaside town would have known the star they had in their midst.
He stayed away from football in his retirement years. There is no record of his having any involvement in the game during these years, even as a spectator. Perhaps, after a lifetime in professional football, he’d had enough.
He had no children but he has a great, great nephew who was called after him. Scott Duncan, from Cardross, said: "Although we didn't know much about him, my dad told me he’d been a top footballer and manager and that's who I was named after. He spent most of his career down south at Ipswich so would have lost contact with most of the family. However, his name will live on as I have also named my son after him.
"He appears to have been a really bright guy as his career was so successful and we’re all proud to have had such a star in the family. It's sad that not many people know about his career but he wasn’t the type to boast about his achievements.”
Dumbarton barber John McCann cut Duncan’s hair in the Vale of Leven Hospital, Alexandria. Sadly, the 87-year-old was gravely ill and passed away a few months later.
Even in the poorest of health, he still made an impression. John said: "As he shuffled over for his haircut you could see he was quite poorly. Very much an old school gentleman, he was well spoken.
"When I later found out about his football career, I couldn’t believe it as there was no mention of the game when we talked. He must have been a formidable figure - there was an air of authority about him even though he was extremely weak. But he was also polite and friendly. A lovely man.”
Adam Scott Mathieson Duncan’s funeral service at Cardross on October 5, 1976, with wife Mary being his only family survivor, was a modest affair as few people knew about his incredible career.
There is nothing in the cemetery to record his death other than a line in a dusty old ledger that notes his ashes were scattered in the Garden of Remembrance.
The passing of this unassuming man who had spent more than 50 years in the sport at such a high level merited only two short sentences in Glasgow’s Evening Times.
Football had lost one of its great figures. It just didn’t know it.