As a kid, the name Nottingham meant one thing: Robin Hood. The Sheriff. The forest. It was folklore. Romance. But in football terms? Nothing special. Just another name on the league tables.
That changed the day I watched the 2009 movie The Damned United. I’d heard of Brian Clough, of course. I knew Forest had once been European champions. But watching Michael Sheen embody the madness, arrogance and brilliance of “Old Big ’Ead” was something else entirely.
The movie focuses on his infamous 44-day spell at Leeds, which came just before his time at Forest. But it triggered the curiosity that led me to discover the miracle behind it all: a second-division club that rose to conquer Europe - not once, but twice. The stuff of dreams, of course. But also of tactics, courage and belief.
Clough himself deserves an entire article. But this one is about Nottingham Forest - and the seasons when they ruled the world.
A Sleeping Club, a Fallen Star
When Clough took over Nottingham Forest on 6 January 1975, the club was 13th in the Second Division, drifting in obscurity. Their last major honour? The FA Cup, back in 1959. They had never been English champions.
Forest weren’t a sleeping giant. They were just… asleep.
Clough, for all his past glories at Derby County, was at a low point too. His disastrous 44-day reign at Leeds United had ended in humiliation. He arrived at the City Ground alone - Peter Taylor, his long-time trusted assistant, wasn’t with him. That would come later.
Without Taylor, results were poor. Clough needed his old partner. And in July 1976, after finishing 8th, Taylor returned from Brighton.
That reunion changed everything.
The Architects of the Impossible
Brian Clough and Peter Taylor were opposites who completed each other. Clough: the charismatic motivator, man-manager and media showman. Taylor: the introvert, the scout, the master recruiter with a clinical eye for talent.
They called themselves “the shop window and the goods inside.”
Clough had vision. Taylor had the map. Together, they scoured the leagues for misfits and overlooked gems. They found players others ignored - and transformed them into champions.
The first trophy came in 1977: the Anglo-Scottish Cup, an often-forgotten tournament. But for Clough, it was the turning point. “It made them feel like winners,” he’d say later. And once they tasted silver, they never looked back.
A Title from Nowhere
In 1976-77, Nottingham Forest finished third in the Second Division and secured promotion. It was a fine achievement - but no one could have predicted what came next.
The very next season, 1977-78, Forest didn’t just survive in the First Division. They won it. At the first attempt. It wasn’t a fluke. It was a rout.
Clough’s men finished seven points clear of Liverpool, conceding just 24 goals in 42 games - an extraordinary defensive record in an era when teams still played with flair and aggression. This wasn’t just any Liverpool side either. Managed by Bob Paisley, they were reigning European champions, having lifted the trophy in 1977. They would go on to defend it in 1978. But in the league, they were blown away.
Forest’s title was built on a fortress of a back line. At its heart was Peter Shilton, England’s number one, signed from Stoke City for a record £270,000. He kept an astonishing 23 clean sheets, bringing calm authority and world-class reflexes to a side still adjusting to top-flight life. In front of him, the central pairing of Larry Lloyd - a no-nonsense centre-half cast off by Coventry - and Kenny Burns, a converted striker with a combustible personality, became the most feared defensive duo in the league. Clough had told Taylor he wanted “two hard bastards” at the back. He got exactly that. Burns was so effective that he was named Football Writers’ Player of the Year.
The full-backs, too, were vital. Frank Clark, an experienced head, and Viv Anderson, dynamic and history-making, gave the team width, composure and balance. Anderson, in particular, was breaking ground - not just on the pitch, but socially - as the first Black footballer to play for the England national team.
In midfield, the conductor was John McGovern, Clough’s eternal captain, quiet but commanding. Alongside him, the relentless Ian Bowyer added drive and goals from deep, while Martin O’Neill, cerebral and tireless, connected lines with elegance.
Out wide, John Robertson was the magician. Once overweight and close to release, he was transformed by Taylor into the team’s creative soul. Clough called him “the Picasso of our game.” His left foot delivered crosses with surgical precision - and penalties with ice-cold nerve.
Up front, Tony Woodcock, agile and intelligent, led the line until his mid-season transfer to FC Köln. His goals had kept Forest flying in the early months. His replacement in the team? Garry Birtles, signed from non-league Long Eaton United for a few thousand pounds. Birtles, who still worked part-time fitting carpets, stepped into the top flight and scored 6 goals in his first 22 games. By the following season, he’d be Europe’s Young Player of the Year.
Forest lost just three league games all season. They beat Liverpool 2-1 at the City Ground in March. They went unbeaten from mid-November to the end of the campaign - a 25-game run. They weren’t just consistent. They were defiant, composed, untouchable.
The scale of the achievement becomes clearer when you consider who they toppled. Liverpool, under Bob Paisley, had won the league in 1976 and 1977 and were heavy favourites to make it three in a row. Manchester City, managed by Tony Book, had finished second the year before. Derby County, Clough’s former team, had won the title in 1975 under Dave Mackay. Arsenal and Manchester United were in transition, but still formidable. Leeds, despite being in decline post-Revie, remained combative.
But Forest left them all behind.
In less than three years, Clough and Taylor had taken a 13th-place second-division side and turned them into champions of England. A team without glamour, without stars. Just belief. Intelligence. And a manager who insisted they could beat anyone - and made them believe it too.
But they weren’t finished.
The First European Odyssey (1978-79)
Back then, the European Cup was reserved for the best. Only national champions were invited. No second places. No fourth from England. Just the winners. And Nottingham Forest, barely a year removed from the Second Division, found themselves walking into the lion’s den.
Their first opponent? Liverpool. Not just domestic rivals - but reigning European champions. The most dominant club side in the world. Paisley’s machine. Back-to-back winners in 1977 and 1978. It felt cruel. Unwinnable.
No one gave Forest a chance.
But Clough didn’t care for odds. Or reputations. His team played their football, their way. At the City Ground, Forest struck first - and twice. Goals from Garry Birtles and Colin Barrett sealed a stunning 2-0 win. In the return leg at Anfield, they held firm, absorbing pressure with calm defiance. 0-0. Clean sheet. Job done. The kings were dead. The newcomers had slain them.
From there, Forest moved with growing belief. In the second round, they faced AEK Athens, the Greek champions. A tricky away tie in front of a hostile crowd was overcome with a 2-1 victory. Back in Nottingham, Forest ran riot - 5-1 on the night, 7-2 on aggregate. Statement made.
Next came Grasshopper Zürich, Switzerland’s top side. Again, Forest made light work of it: 4-1 at home, 1-1 away, and into the semi-finals they marched.
Then came the real test. 1. FC Köln. The West German giants. The tie began at the City Ground, and what followed was chaos. Forest were 2-0 down after 20 minutes - an unfamiliar feeling. But they rallied. Goals from Birtles, Bowyer and Frank Clark turned it around to 3-2, before Köln equalised again late on. 3-3. Advantage Germany.
No club had ever failed to win the home leg of a European Cup semi-final and still gone through. But Forest weren’t any club. In the return leg, Clough’s men produced a defensive masterclass - and struck when it mattered. Ian Bowyer scored the winner in a tense 1-0 victory. Forest were going to the European Cup final. In their debut campaign.
On 30 May 1979, in Munich’s Olympiastadion, they faced Malmö FF, the surprise Swedish finalists. It wasn’t a classic. Malmö set up to survive. Forest dominated the ball, but the rhythm was slow, the pitch heavy, and the occasion tense.
But this was why Trevor Francis had been signed. Clough had paid a world-record £1 million for the Birmingham City striker, but UEFA rules meant Francis wasn’t allowed to play until the final. This was his one shot.
Just before half-time, he took it.
John Robertson, always decisive, skipped past a defender down the left and curled in a high cross. Francis, arriving like a ghost at the far post, powered in a diving header. 1-0. History made.
The second half was tight, but Forest never looked rattled. Shilton was commanding. Burns and Lloyd refused to let Malmö through. When the whistle blew, it was done.
Nottingham Forest were champions of Europe.
In their first ever appearance. With a squad built from leftovers, bargains and belief.
Clough didn’t celebrate wildly. “We played better against Liverpool,” he said. But deep down, he knew: his team had just pulled off one of the greatest achievements in football history.
And Then They Did It Again (1979-80)
If their first European Cup was seen as a fairytale, the second was something else. A fluke? A lucky run? Clough’s Forest returned the following season ready to silence the sceptics.
And yet, they were no longer champions of England.
Despite their continental triumph, Forest had only finished second in the 1978-79 league - eight points behind Liverpool, who reclaimed the domestic crown. But as reigning champions, Forest were granted the right to defend their title.
They took that chance and turned it into something unforgettable.
The campaign began with Östers IF, the Swedish champions. A routine 2-0 win at home gave them control, and a 1-1 draw away sealed the deal. In the second round, they met Argeș Pitești of Romania. It was the kind of tie that could unsettle a complacent side - but Forest were anything but. 2-0 at the City Ground, followed by a gritty 2-1 win in Pitești, sent them through with minimum fuss.
Then came adversity.
In the quarter-finals, Forest lost 1-0 at home to Dynamo Berlin, champions of East Germany. It was their first defeat in European competition. Clough was furious. So was Taylor. But neither panicked. In East Berlin, Forest responded with steel and style. Trevor Francis scored twice, including a delicate low finish for the opener, and John Robertson added another. Final score: 3-1. Through again.
The semi-final brought a clash of eras: Ajax, three-time European champions in the early ’70s. In Nottingham, Forest were ruthless - 2-0, with goals from Birtles and Francis. In Amsterdam, they lost 1-0, but defended with control. It was enough. Forest were going back to the final.
This time, the setting was even grander: the Santiago Bernabéu in Madrid, cathedral of European football. The date: 28 May 1980.
Their opponents were Hamburg, West German champions. Leading the line was Kevin Keegan - twice Ballon d’Or winner, England icon, and former Liverpool star. This was no underdog battle. Forest were now the team to beat.
And once again, they struck early.
Just 20 minutes in, John Robertson, the reformed winger who had once been cast aside as lazy and unfit, drifted in from the left, cut inside, and buried a low shot past Rudolf Kargus. One-nil. It stayed that way.
The rest of the night was about grit, structure, and resolve. Peter Shilton was impenetrable. Burns and Lloyd crushed everything that came their way. Viv Anderson was flawless on the right. Forest didn’t park the bus. They just controlled the road.
At the final whistle, the scoreboard read the same as a year earlier: 1-0. But this time, it echoed louder.
Nottingham Forest had won back-to-back European Cups. In the space of twelve months, they had gone from newcomers to serial champions. A club from the English Midlands - who, five years earlier, were stuck in the Second Division - now stood level with the giants of the game.
Clough’s response? Calm. Blunt. “Winning one was good. Winning it twice just shut a few more people up.”
And once again, he was right.
After the Summit, the Slide
After Madrid, the world belonged to Forest. But football moves fast - and dynasties are fragile.
In the 1980/81 European Cup, they returned as defending champions, but the magic was fading. Two narrow 1-0 losses to CSKA Sofia meant they were out in the first round. Just like that, the dream ended not with a grand fall, but with a quiet exit on a cold Eastern night.
Domestically, the spark was flickering too. Liverpool reclaimed their grip on the league. The squad aged. And cracks began to show - not just on the pitch, but behind the scenes.
In 1982, Peter Taylor retired. The man who had found the misfits, shaped the squad, and reined in Clough’s excesses stepped away from the dugout. Without Taylor, Clough lost more than just a colleague. He lost his compass.
The pain of that separation deepened when Taylor unexpectedly returned to football - this time to manage Derby County, the club he and Clough had once taken to glory together. And then came the final betrayal: Taylor signed John Robertson, Clough’s on-pitch talisman and favourite, without warning him.
They never spoke again.
Clough, ever proud, never forgave. And when Taylor died of pulmonary fibrosis in 1990, the silence remained unbroken.
Clough stayed on at Forest, still defiant, still dressing rooms in green carpets and demanding that players call him “Mr Clough.” And in flashes, the genius returned: he won the League Cup in 1989 and 1990, and brought Forest back to Wembley again and again. There were FA Cup finals, UEFA Cup runs, and the emergence of young stars like Nigel Clough, Roy Keane, and Stuart Pearce.
But something was gone. The fire dimmed. The press, once charmed, grew cold. So did the results.
In 1992/93, Forest were relegated from the inaugural Premier League. Clough, gaunt and grey, stood on the touchline at the City Ground for the final time. The crowd sang his name. He waved, quietly. And then walked away.
He was 58 years old, and a legend in ruins - worn down by time, drink, and ghosts he never quite laid to rest.
But never forgotten.
Final Whistle: More Than Just Numbers
Yes, it’s true: Nottingham Forest have more European Cups (2) than English league titles (1). That alone defies belief. But numbers don’t explain what Clough and Taylor created.
It wasn’t just a team - it was an idea. That football could be bold, intelligent, and built on belief. That misfits could become champions. That a forgotten club could rise beyond all logic.
For years, I only knew Nottingham as the home of Robin Hood. Now I see it as the home of Brian Clough and Peter Taylor - football’s greatest "outlaw" duo.
Everybody loves an underdog story. And this one has it all: A comeback. An impossible triumph. A slow decline. And lasting gratitude for a man who took a provincial club to unthinkable heights.
Nottingham Forest didn’t just beat Europe. They made it believe in miracles.
