He played against Alex Ferguson at Hampden, he lined up alongside a World Cup winner, he sat in a team bus next to Eric Morecambe and he guarded Rudolf Hess at Spandau Prison.
The tale of Maxwell Spaulding Dougan has many strands and stretches to his age of 87. Some of them are slowly unravelled as he takes a walk down memory lane at the Scottish Football Museum. It is the first time he has been at Hampden in more than 60 years.
‘I played against Fergie here,’ he says. ‘The 30th of March, 1963.’
His memory of this is precise. He can also recite the Hibernian team that contained the Famous Five and the England side that had his one-time team-mate, Gordon Banks, in goal.
But Max has been diagnosed with dementia. His memory can offer remarkable stories of an extraordinary life but can betray him in short-term recollections.
His visit to Hampden with his wife, Diane, by his side is almost overwhelming. Tears cloud the eyes of the Dougans as they are taken on a tour of the museum and then down to the side of the pitch.
Max Dougan visited Hampden Park for the first time since he played there over 60 years ago
Defender Dougan enlisted in the Royal Scots and played army football all over the world
Dougan (top right) was a Leicester City team-mate of England keeper Gordon Banks (top left)
‘The last time he was at Hampden he was playing here,’ says Diane.
‘It’s changed a bit,’ says Max with a wide smile.
The visit to the national stadium followed the discovery by Diane that those with dementia could drop in at the museum, free of charge, on Thursday afternoons. They travelled from their home in Dunfermline and were embraced by their past and welcomed warmly by museum staff.
Diane carried a bag containing some of the remembrances of times past. A Scottish cap, awarded in 1962-63, when Max played for the national amateur side, was placed on a bench in the old dressing rooms that have been retained and installed in the museum. A Division 4 championship medal, won at Luton Town, sits neatly in its original box. Newspaper cuttings spill into the present. Photographs of Max with Banks, Frank McLintock, Bobby Clark and Andy Roxburgh, among so many others, are presented.
Max comments on them all. It is a jumble of paper and wonderful memorabilia but it is, perhaps, best to put some chronological order on a journey from West Lothian, through Berlin, Cyprus and Iraq, to Hampden and then to elite football in England.
The story starts underground. Max was born and bred in Stoneyburn and worked at the nearby pit. There is an exhibition in the museum, entitled From Pit to Pitch, that details how many miners became professional footballers. Max was one of them. He looks at a white helmet in a display case and says: ‘I wore a black one. Everything was black.’
When the pit closed, he enlisted in the Royal Scots. ‘I became a corporal,’ he says. ‘The Army always took a pride in football.’
Max travelled the world and played in Army teams. He was a powerful and skilful centre-half or right-back. He believes he may have been part of the first British team to play in Iraq when he turned out for a Combined Services XI.
A deployment in Berlin brought Max to Spandau Prison where he guarded Hess, Hitler’s one-time deputy, who fled Nazi Germany in May, 1941, in what is believed to be an attempt at securing a deal for peace. He crash-landed near Eaglesham, just a few miles up the road from Hampden, and was captured. Hess was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Nuremberg trials and died in Spandau in 1987, aged 93.
‘He was the only prisoner there,’ says Max of the prison. ‘It was a quiet job.’
Max bought himself out of the Army for the princely sum of £125 so he could play football. He believed he could make a living from it but started as an amateur, hoping he would be spotted by a professional side. It worked. He played just one season for Queen’s Park before being signed by Leicester City in September 1963.
This was a fine side. It had finished fourth in the league and lost the FA Cup final to Manchester United in the previous season.
‘Aye Gordon Banks was there,’ says Max, before reciting the 1966 England side that won the World Cup with his team-mate in goal. ‘He was obviously a great player but he was a good, quiet man. It was tough for me to get a game. Loads of good players, with Frank McLintock and Ian King in the centre of defence.’
He glances down at photographs. One shows him standing alongside Roxburgh and Clark in Queen’s Park colours. The other shows him clearing the ball at a packed Goodison Park as Leicester took on Everton.
‘I played at many of the big grounds but mostly in the reserve team,’ he says. ‘But I was on £40 a week with £4 for a win and £2 for a draw.’
He was signed for £7,000 by Luton Town in 1966 and in four seasons he led them to two promotions, climbing from the foot of Division 4 to a stable place in Division 2.
‘There’s Bruce,’ he says as a photograph of a Luton side is produced. He is referring to Bruce Rioch, who went on to play for Scotland in a World Cup.
Max visited Luton recently for a game where he was treated as a conquering hero. He recalls happy times at the club. ‘Eric Morecambe was a director at the club,’ he says of one half of comedy legends Morecambe and Wise. ‘He always travelled to games on the team bus. He would never shut up but that was fine because he was so funny.’
Max played for four seasons for Luton before joining Bedford Town and then Dunstable Town.
He strides through the museum, regularly caught by reminders of the past. Richard McBrearty, curator of the museum, is an informative, genial and generous host. He points out exhibits that may particularly interest Max.
‘The drop-in on a Thursday is for all who live with dementia. We have found that football can bring back memories,’ he says.
The Football Memories movement, which has spread all over the world, started at Hampden in 2009. Hundreds of groups across Scotland are supported by the museum and Alzheimer Scotland, which informed Diane of the opportunity to visit the national stadium.
‘This day has meant so much to us,’ says Diane, as the museum is left and the modern dressing rooms are visited. Max shakes his head at their luxury and laughs as the old-time communal baths with their dirty water are recalled.
He then walks down the tunnel to pitchside. A button on a wall produces a Hampden Roar. Max steps to the very edge of the green sward and says: ‘I covered every blade of that grass.’
He lingers there in the warmth of the sun and, perhaps, the glow of good times past. He then returns to the museum before we all head to the cafe for a natter.
We pass photographs of Denis Law, Dave Mackay, Billy Bremner and other greats of the Scottish game. ‘Aye, I knew them,’ says Max. ‘What players, eh?’
He dallies for another moment, taking it all in. ‘Football,’ he says. ‘It’s a good game.’
