The Project Gutenberg EBook of Scottish Football Reminiscences and Sketches, by
David Drummond Bone
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Title: Scottish Football Reminiscences and Sketches
Author: David Drummond Bone
Release Date: February 9, 2009 [EBook #28028]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCOTTISH FOOTBALL REMINISCENCES ***
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* * * * *
SCOTTISH FOOTBALL REMINISCENCES
AND
SKETCHES.
BY D. D. BONE
_GLASGOW._
GLASGOW:
JOHN MENZIES & CO., 15 DRURY STREET.
HAY NISBET & CO., 25 JAMAICA STREET.
EDINBURGH: JOHN MENZIES & CO., HANOVER STREET.
1890.
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* * * * *
PREFACE.
In bringing my first edition of Football Reminiscences and Sketches
before the public, I do so with a sense of profound regard for the game
and its players, and heartfelt gratitude to numerous friends--some of
whom, alas! are no more--for advice and assistance. If my readers
consider it worthy of one who has devoted a quarter of a century in
attaining that experience necessary to criticise the players of the dead
past and those of the living present with fidelity, I will have gained
something to be remembered, and be amply repaid for what I have done to
assist the spread of the Association game in Scotland. Many of my
sketches, under different names, have already appeared in various
journals, including the _Daily_ and _Weekly Mail_, _Bell's Life in
London_, and the "Scottish Football Annual," but I have remodelled some
of them very considerably, and indulge in the hope that they may while
away an hour or so at the fireside of the Player and Spectator after a
big Cup Tie or other interesting match.
THE AUTHOR.
* * * * *
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* * * * *
CONTENTS.
PAGE
I.--FOOTBALL: ANCIENT AND MODERN, 17
II.--THE FOOTBALL WAVE, 20
III.--A "SWEEP FOR THE CUP;" OR, HOW PATE BROWN KEPT HIS ENGAGEMENT, 21
IV.--FAMOUS ASSOCIATION PLAYERS--PAST AND PRESENT, 26
V.--THE PIONEERS OF ASSOCIATION FOOTBALL IN SCOTLAND;
OR, "THE CONQUEROR'S FOOTBALL BOOTS," 63
VI.--HOW CLUBS WERE STARTED LONG AGO, 71
VII.--THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL; OR, NED DUNCAN'S DREAM, 73
VIII.--THE PATRONS, SPECTATORS, AND POPULAR PLAYERS, 79
IX.--A DREAM OF THE PAST, 82
X.--THE DUEL NEAR THE FOOTBALL FIELD, 86
XI.--THE FINAL TIE FOR THE ASSOCIATION CHALLENGE CUP--1889-90, 93
* * * * *
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* * * * *
FOOTBALL REMINISCENCES.
_I.--FOOTBALL: ANCIENT AND MODERN._
"Then strip, lads and to it, though cold be the weather,
And if, by mischance you should happen to fall,
There are worse things in life than a tumble on heather,
For life is itself but a game at Football."
--_Sir Walter Scott._
In Scotland, so closely associated with traditional lore, and the
acknowledged birth-place of romance and patriotic song, it would be
almost dangerous to incur displeasure by attempting to refer to the
early history of anything associated with the amusements or recreations
of the people, without actually touching on tradition--a point held by
some in far greater regard and reverence than actual fact. Under these
circumstances, then, I do not want to run the risk of complete
annihilation by ignoring the traditional, and even territorial, aspect
of Football. That the game was played as early as the tenth century
there is any amount of authentic evidence to show, and that it continued
to be one of the chief recreations of the people there can be no doubt.
Coming much further down, however, the game of Football is referred to,
both by historical and romance writers. In Sir Walter Scott's "Lay of
the Last Minstrel," we find that the English and Scotch soldiers, in a
few hours' actual cessation from skirmishing on the eve of a battle,
engaged in "the merry Football play." Our forefathers, however, must
have played the game in rather a rude and undignified fashion, if we can
believe certain authorities--actual brute force and superiority in point
of weight being the indispensable concomitants of a successful side. The
matches, too, must have been played utterly regardless of science. Just
fancy a couple of crack teams meeting on a heather-covered field, with
the "hailing spots" about a mile and a-half apart, and playing a match
lasting four or five hours! Could any of our young men nowadays stand
such rough-and-tumble work? Happily it is not required. It has been
found that a match lasting an hour and a-half, with the ball ever and
anon passing in front of one on a level field, is quite enough, even for
the strongest back, half-back, or forward. Experience has sufficiently
proved that, even in this age of scientific play. So much for the past,
and I will proceed to touch briefly on the spread and popularity of
football.
To those who only know football as promoted by the Queen's Park, and
subsequently by the Vale of Leven, Clydesdale, Granville (now defunct),
3rd L.R.V, and lastly, though not leastly, by the Scottish Football
Association, we are almost compelled to offer some information. A
quarter of a century ago a Union was formed in Edinburgh to draw up a
code of rules to encourage the game of Football, and matches were played
between schools and other clubs. These rules were a combination of the
present Association and Rugby, dribbling being largely indulged in, but
the goal-posts were similar to those now in use under the latter code of
rules, and a goal could not be scored unless the ball went over the
posts. This game made considerable progress in Edinburgh, being
vigorously promoted by scholastic clubs and students attending college.
Some years later, when the number of young gentlemen sent over from
England to be educated in Scotland, particularly Edinburgh, began to
increase, these old rules were subjected to considerable alteration, and
eventually assimilated to those of the English Rugby Union, and all the
known clubs in Scotland at that time adhered tenaciously to these rules,
and under them many exciting games were played between Eastern and
Western clubs, the Glasgow Academicals and Edinburgh Academicals being
the leading ones. Eventually, however, the new clubs springing into
existence in the Western District of the country did not care to play
these rules, and, following the example of similar clubs in England,
adhered to what they considered an improvement on the old system of
Football, and joined the English Football Association, formed in 1863.
The first to do this was the Queen's Park, the mother of Association
Football in Scotland, in 1867, and the example was soon followed by the
Clydesdale, 3rd L.R.V., Vale of Leven, Granville, and others, a few
years afterwards. Well can I remember witnessing several exciting
tussles on the Queen's Park recreation ground (then the only
meeting-place of the Premier Association Club), between the Vale of
Leven, Hamilton, East Kilbride, Clydesdale, Granville, and 3rd L.R.V.
Since then the spread and popularity of the Association style of play
has been so often written about that it is, so to speak, bound up in the
actual history of the Western District of Scotland. In Edinburgh,
however, the new rules have not made so much headway, the Rugby code
being there as extensively played as of yore. Some advances, however,
have taken place, and the Edinburgh University has an Association team,
and that city several promising clubs, including the Hibernian, Heart of
Midlothian, and St. Bernard, and, in Leith, the Athletic, that made such
a plucky fight with the Queen's Park in a recent cup tie.
No one, except a close observer, can believe the earnestness and
enthusiasm imparted into the game by the formation of young clubs, but
there is one danger which should be avoided. There is such a thing as
overdoing; and, depend upon it, if this is continued, the game will
suffer. To those who love and appreciate everything in season, the
advice I am about to impart will be doubly significant. Football is a
winter game, and while it may be all right to practice in spring and
autumn, the line is bound to be drawn somewhere, and why attempt to
force it down the throats of cricketers, athletes, yachtsmen, and even
lawn-tennis players, in the heart of summer? It must not be forgotten
that some of our best and most influential football clubs have also
cricket clubs and kindred summer recreations attached, and, in the
interests of football, these should be encouraged; and to this end I am
confident my remarks will be treated with some respect. I am also sure
that no one who has taken a deep interest in the game from its
comparative infancy, but can look back with extreme pleasure on its
development, and even go the length of registering a vow that he will do
his utmost to make and uphold it as an honest and manly game, despite
isolated assumptions by a few traducers who question such earnestness,
and I will endeavour to point them out, and draw comparisons.
"What came ye out to see?" might often be asked by an uninterested
spectator who had ventured forth to look at some of the matches. A crowd
of young men pursuing a round object, called a ball, with great
earnestness of purpose. To the young cad, who can think of nothing but
the colour of his latest pair of kid gloves, or the check of his newest
acquisition in the shape of fashionable trousers, all out-door amusement
is considered an interminable bore, the game of Football has, of course,
no charm. There is too much hard work for him, and the training required
to put one in condition, fraught with all that is called self-denial, he
could never endure. The musty old duffer, too, looks upon the game in
the light of a deadly sin, which can never be associated in his mind
with anything short of idiocy and the most virulent fanaticism. To some
of his young men he remarks--"And you call that a grand game, running
about a field trying to put a ball near a pair of upright posts, and
knocking the first lad down who attempts to retard your progress! Do you
call that manly, eh? Would anyone but a pure lunatic run the chance of
getting his shins cut, or collar-bone dislocated, indulging in such
work, and donning coloured stockings and fantastic shirt the while to
make the matter all the more absurd!" He seems to forget that "all work
and no play makes Jack a dull boy," and the real meaning of a dull boy
and a dull man is irregularity and vexation in the counting-house and
office. There are amusements and amusements, and recreations and
recreations, but I know of none adapted for the winter months which can
be so cheaply indulged in, with so much profit to health, as Football.
Accidents do happen occasionally, I admit, but they are exceedingly few
when the number of young men engaged in the game is taken into account,
combined with the fact that, last year, some of the leading Association
matches were played much more roughly than in previous years, it is an
astonishing fact that no fatal accident occurred in Scotland. There are,
of course, many, if the whole truth must be written, whom the exciting
and manly game has failed to touch by its magic and fascinating
influence, but they should not be courted, and fortunately their
patronage is neither sought nor needed, for they are the men most to be
avoided on a wintry Saturday afternoon while one is on his way to see an
exciting "cup tie." Depend upon it, they will allure you to some haunt
where the language is not even so choice as where the "final" is being
played between two leading clubs.
I am fully convinced that when the game was first improved and adapted
to stand side by side with others requiring both pluck and skill, the
thought never entered the heads of its promoters that some of the laws
might be abused, not used. Unfortunately, such is too true, and the
sooner these things are discouraged the better. The old precept about
warriors feeling a stern joy when they knew they were opposed to foemen
worthy of their steel, should never be forgotten by the biggest back,
half-back, or the smallest forward. To put it in another way,
gentlemanly conduct towards an opponent in the field is pleasing to see,
and, indeed, civility is worth much, and costs nothing--only a small
effort of self-denial. In this enlightened age, the nation who crows too
much over a vanquished foe is naturally detested, and why should not
this spirit regulate the game of Football? If this were carefully
remembered during the season, there would undoubtedly be such a close
bond of fellowship and good feeling amongst Football players that
nothing could disturb.
And again, I cannot allow the present opportunity to pass without
protesting against a practice, now, unfortunately, too largely followed
by a section of the spectators who turn out to all the big events--viz.,
betting. About as long as I can remember, and it may be before
Football, perhaps, was played, many an honest wager was made by the
leaders in all out-door sports that they would be the victors, but the
practice, I have been assured, never went further. Now it is quite a
common thing to see cash dancing about a ring of spectators at a big
match, and often the loss of cash to certain individuals means a
proportionate loss of temper, and the practice is all the more to be
deplored. It is for this end, it is for this avowed purpose, that one
and all connected with its development and culture, will strive to their
utmost to ennoble and raise Football to a higher and purer level, and
consequently discourage, by every legitimate means, betting in all its
phases, and the slightest tendencies amongst the players who take part
in the various matches towards rough play, and a disposition to indulge
in unnecessary charging.
_II.--THE FOOTBALL WAVE._
Like Dogberry's idea of certain kinds of novel writing, both Association
and Rugby Football seem to come to the Scotchmen by nature. My readers
can, perhaps, easily remember the clever _jeu d'esprit_ on the antiquity
of the Gaelic tongue which appeared several years ago advocating the
claims of that race as lisping the first "speech" heard in Eden in a
manner that must have stirred the blood of Professor Blackie. As the
history of Association Football, with which I have only to deal under
the present circumstances, is so well-known and a thing of yesterday,
its origin, like that of the Gaelic language, is not shrouded in
mystery, but actually known (or should be known) to all who take an
interest in the game. In my previous article, I tried to trace the
origin of football in its rudest form as played by our forefathers, when
goal-posts and bars, to say nothing of corner-flags, were unknown.
Football now, however, has been reduced to something like a scientific
game, and to the credit of England be it said, the Association Rules
there first saw the light. Scotch players in the Western District soon
emulated their Southern brethren, and from the Parent Club, which had a
humble and unassuming origin on the recreation ground at Queen's Park,
sprang hundreds of clubs, spreading over the length and breadth of the
land with remarkable rapidity. The wave soon rolled all over Glasgow and
suburbs, submerged the whole country, and eventually invaded the Heart
of Midlothian itself, where the Rugby code had hitherto reigned supreme.
The schoolboys who played cricket and rounders in the summertime came
out on a wintry afternoon to see their seniors engaged in Association
football, and soon felt the desire creep over them to be members of a
club containing lads like themselves. The young men engaged in the city
all day thought on the health-imparting exercise it afforded, and had
the necessary funds raised to form a club. The artisans, too, from the
dusky foundry, the engineer shop, and the factory, soon began to dribble
about. The young ones, and even the seniors themselves, had many a
collision with mother earth ere they could rely on keeping their pins
with any degree of accuracy, and it was rare fun to see a bearded man
turning a somersault as he missed the ball in trying to make a big
kick. Football is easily acquired in so far as the rudimentary part is
concerned, but a great deal of probation is required to convert one into
a crack player. Among those who now practice football, and their name is
legion, the superior players can be numbered in (to give it a wide
scope) hundreds. In fact, to be able to master all the details requisite
to win a first-class match, one has to be capable of dribbling,
middling, heading, and passing in a way that would do credit to solving
a complicated problem in Euclid. It is all very well to talk about brute
force and lasting power, but unless these are accompanied by scientific
application, they are worth little, and cost much. "The race is not
always to the swift," says the old proverb. In at least eight cases out
of ten, the match is to the scientific and careful, but of this more
anon. There is one thing that can be said about football which in the
nature of things must recommend it to all lovers of out-door exercise.
Of late years bicycling has obtained a great deal of popularity all over
the three kingdoms, both for its usefulness as a speedy means of
conveyance, and exercise to the limbs, but that it has its drawbacks has
just been made apparent by undisputed medical authority. "The bicycle
back," the effect of hard work on the "iron horse," is beginning to
appear on the handsome young man who thinks nothing of doing his 50
miles a day, and while walking occasionally with the young lady with the
"Grecian bend," the contrast in his case is amusing. To say that there
are no dangers of any kind attached to football would be making an
assertion which I cannot substantiate, but these are comparatively few.
All sports, of whatever kind, have the elements of danger attached to
their pursuit, but, with great care, these can be reduced to a minimum.
Although I have certainly never observed the round-shoulders of the
bicyclist in the football player, I have not unfrequently seen the
"football leg." That is a series of cuts about the shin bone,
administered by a vicious opponent while (as it generally happens)
playing a "cup tie," and last season they were more plentiful than ever.
In fact, I heard from the lips of a member of one of the crack clubs
that in not a few of the ties they retired from the field "greatly
impressed with the unmistakable signs of muscular ability shown by their
opponents." This means most undoubtedly hacking and tripping, under the
guise of tackling, and if Association football is to go on and prosper
such disgraceful acts of tyranny on the football field must forever
cease. These "accidents" can, of course, be avoided, and as there are
distinct rules forbidding them, clubs would do well to see that these
are rigidly enforced.
_III.--A "SWEEP FOR THE CUP;"_
OR,
_HOW PATE BROWN KEPT HIS ENGAGEMENT._
"What do you say, old fellow, about a 'Sweep for the Cup.' Why, a 'sov.'
is nothing to the like of you, and there will be such fun at the
lifting." This was said to me one morning about nine, just as I was
preparing to get my shaving utensils into working order before turning
out to the warehouse. Pate Brown used to make fun of me about my scanty
hirsute appendages, and many a time caused me to blush before sundry
members of the Druids when he emphatically declared that I was one of
those effeminate individuals who shaved, not because they had whiskers,
but because they hadn't. This was in September, and a more open year for
the respective chances of the clubs in the Cup had, perhaps, never come
round.
I was unattached then. I was, in fact, neither a member of the Druids
nor the Nomads, but simply a friend of both, and an enthusiastic admirer
of the game. My big brother Angus, it is true, was one of the best men
in the Conquerors, and he and I sometimes had animated discussions about
the respective merits of the clubs. "Why, Jack, this is only September,
it will be more sensible for us to postpone the affair till after the
preliminary ties. A lot of chaps to whom I have spoken consider it next
to nonsense to draw the 'sweep' so soon."
After a great deal of talking and another meeting, it was agreed to go
right ahead with the "sweep," and accordingly the necessary arrangements
were duly made, and subscribers' names taken, as well as their cash.
The warehouse of Ball & Field was the largest in the whole city. Their
trade connection extended to every known country on the face of the
globe. There was a decided charm about the way in which the firm did
business, and the kindly, not to say considerate manner, in which they
treated employés, who really deserved it. The two leading members of the
firm, in fact, were not insignificant prototypes of Dickens' Cheeryble
Brothers (with the exception that they were both married). I verily
believe that in an hour's notice a couple of excellent teams could have
been picked from the house to make a decent match of it anywhere.
The senior himself was an enthusiastic admirer of the game, and one way
or another did much to encourage it by his presence on the field at all
the big matches, and if any of the lads, such as myself, Brown, Rose,
Wilson, or M'Nab wanted away to play in a big affair, a hint reaching
the governor's ears to that effect was amply sufficient. The manager,
however, was of a different sort, he hated football like poison. He even
relegated the grand game to a pastime suitable for pure and
unadulterated lunatics, those, as he put it, "who were too daft to get
into Gartnavel." Fancy that! Woe betide the unfortunate half-back or
forward, who in a weak moment relied on the magnanimity of "Sour Plums,"
as he was called, to let him off to a match, without first consulting
the governor himself. Sometimes M'Nab forgot to do so, and as his club
were frequently in great straits to get him to play, he had to steep his
brains to think on a strategic movement to get free, and succeeded; but
sometimes with the aid of a "crammer."
Brown, for reasons best known to himself, but which will duly come out
as my story advances, was very anxious to be at the "draw," and
accordingly duly appeared at the Marie Stuart Hall, Crosshill. There
were a lot of pale faces in the room when Pate drew the Queen's Park,
Dick Wallace the "Vale," Bill Weldon, Dumbarton, and Sandy M'Bean the
Rangers. A rosy-cheeked, country-looking lad belonging to the Q.P. drew
Cowlairs, and a general titter ran through the august assembly when that
same lad remarked, "he was quite satisfied with his draw, the other
crack clubs notwithstanding." Tom Vincent got Kilmarnock Athletic, Alf.
Grant the Clyde, Blower Fleming drew the Heart of Midlothian, and Bill
Fairfield the Hibernian. I was unlucky enough to secure one of the many
insignificant clubs who never survived the first round, and so my "sov."
was a dead letter.
The entire "sweep" came to a fine round sum, as the subscribers included
a good many of the rank and file of football enthusiasts, and even two
"football-daft" members of the upper strata of the Glasgow Police Force,
and three of the Fire Brigade, went the length of taking a couple of
tickets. There was also Luke Wood, the representative of the "Kick-off,"
who knew a thing or two about the game. He was in for a pair of tickets,
too, and drew the Invincible and Morning Star. He was thoroughly
disgusted at the prospect (more particularly as he had been one of the
leading hands in getting up the "sweep"); but, as the Yankees say, he
gradually "cooled himself down," and got thoroughly reconciled to his
loss.
The Cowlairs had to play the Queen's Park in one of the ties, and a
determined tussle it turned out to be. The "boys" bore a wild look that
afternoon as they emerged from the pavilion at Hampden Park. You could
read the anxious and determined character of their mission on every
face. They had fully made up their minds to fight hard for the Cup, and
really they did. Several of the team were big powerful fellows whom not
a few cautious half-backs would think twice before "going for," and two
of the forwards were very smart on their pins, but wanted that true
mastery of the art of passing and dribbling at the proper time which
make up the refined and superior Association player. As for endurance,
they did not toil among iron wheels, steel axles, and brass fittings for
locomotives, to say nothing of generating steam on the shortest notice,
without being "hardy." No, no. They were in the best of condition for
the game. The Queen's took them too cheaply, and nearly paid a lasting
penalty for their carelessness. The game, in fact, was so closely fought
that the teams were unable to overcome one another, and two goals each
was the result. Meeting a second time, however, the Q.P. made short work
of them, and won by nine goals to none.
The evening before the memorable tussle which put the half of
Dumbartonshire into a state of excitement, bordering on the football
fever, "Mary, the Maid of the Football Inn," came to the door of the
little hotel repeatedly, and after casting sundry glances at the roadway
and scanning the passers-by, muttered something about being jilted, and
how shamefully she had been used by Bob. Her own Bob, who was always so
punctual, and occasionally treated her to a nice walk along the Leven,
past Ewing's big work, and even went the length of composing verses in
her honour.
"What had become of him? Had Nancy Pringle waylaid him, as she
positively swore she would do, on the first opportunity, and start the
probationary stages of a drama in real life?" The fact was Bob never
came, and no wonder. He was collared by the Dumbarton captain, and
carried off to the field to practice for the great fight of the next
day, under pains and penalties. He pleaded for Mary, but it was of no
avail. "He had," he went on to remonstrate, "promised on his word of
honour to meet her that evening and take her to Luckie M'Latchie's
booking." Luckie and Tam M'Murtrie (an old footballer) were to be
spliced a fortnight afterwards, and the "cries" were in.
With a serious air the captain lectured Bob till he was blue in the
face, and told him if he did not put himself in condition for the great
battle of the morrow he would be stoned by the town enthusiasts. He
remembered when a boy at school scribbling as best he could on his
copybook, "Discretion is the better part of valour," and the sentence
flashed across his heated brain with all the force of actual conviction.
"What was he to do?" "Was it to be football first, and Mary afterwards?"
Something whispered "yes; Mary could afford to wait, but the 'Cup' was a
transitory article, and the splendid chance his club had of winning it
might pass away like a dream." "Why, there was Joe Laidlay, he was in
something like the same dilemma so far as his 'lass' was concerned, and
if Joe, he thought, could afford to put off his sweetheart, Maggie
Jackson, in the same way, he (Bob) considered that he should be able to
conclude the arrangement, and make the best excuse to Mary."
Quietly speaking, Bob had an ambition in his football, and it consisted
in being a member of the eleven who would at one time or another "lick"
the Queen's Park, and went into the practice game with his whole heart,
and played all through in good form.
Just a year or so before this the "Vale" would have given the same
Dumbarton lot short shift and no favour on any of the grounds, but
matters were altered. They wanted a lot of their old blood, which had in
years gone bye carried them through many a doubtful battle. They had
lost their grand goalkeeper, and the crack half-back had vacated his
favourite position to keep the ball from going between the uprights in
"time o' need."
Some of the daring forwards had also bade farewell to the game, and were
scattered over the length and breadth of the land. The match, however,
had to be played--it would brook no delay--and the spirited captain
resolved to make the best of it, although a score of misgivings passed
through his mind as to the issue. There was one thing in favour of the
"Vale," they had their own ground to play upon, and that was reckoned as
worth a goal any day.
Before the start Johnny Freer told his old chums to keep their "weather
eyes" open for sudden rushes by the Dumbarton forward division, and
before the game was very old, they discovered that the advice did not
come a moment too soon. Keeping close on the touch lines till well down
among the half-backs, Maclure and his light companion, "the Bird,"
assuredly did not allow the grass to grow under their leather bars. The
ground was a little sloppy from the recent rain, but, strange to say,
the Dumbarton men seemed to keep their feet in a remarkable manner.
M'Luckie and big Walton tried their very best to intercept the
dribblers, but at times they were completely mastered, and Dick Wallace
had to come away from his place at back and assist.
The most of the Dumbarton lads were much faster on the ball than the
"Vale," and this, added to a slice of luck, aided them in scoring twice,
and they consequently won a hard battle by two goals to none, and earned
the proud distinction of being the champions.
After the great crowd had dispersed, and lots of silver had changed
hands, a solemn silence reigned in that part of the pavilion utilised by
the "Vale." "There is no use denying the fact, chaps," said the captain
of the defeated team, "these fellows have beaten us on our form this
season, and we'll have to make the best of a bad bargain."
Not so, however, in the other end of the house. The victors were
"blowing" a good deal of the bad luck they had had, and how they ought
to have scored a dozen goals if "Sandy had not repeatedly allowed the
ball to graze the goal-posts, instead of attempting to kick it out. They
had, however, beaten the 'Vale,' and that was all they cared for, in
the said tie. The Rangers they declared they did not fear, and from all
they could hear, they were now quite able to meet the Queen's Park face
to face."
With the Rangers, however, they had just sufficient to do on their own
ground in the first match, but in the second came off victorious by five
goals to one.
One Saturday evening we took forcible possession of Jack Cook's
lodgings, which were situated near the Marie Stuart Hall, Crosshill.
Jack was very fond of billiards, and sometimes pocketed several "pools"
of an evening, when a few choice spirits congregated in "The Rooms."
Jack's landlady had frequently threatened him with pains and penalties
for treating anything approaching "elders' hours" with contempt, and
once intensified it to instant dismissal, bag and baggage, for
encouraging a lot of his chums in leading the chorus of Dickens'
Bacchanalian song:
"We won't go home till morning,
Till morning, till morning,
We won't go home till morning,
Till daylight doth appear,"
at four o'clock A.M., under her kitchen window after a big cup tie,
which the Conquerors had won. Jack, as a matter of precaution warned us
that we were to comport ourselves with decency, and not rouse the
aforesaid lady. Our friend had something in the bottle. We were
comfortably seated, and the room filled with tobacco smoke, when a dim
shadow was noticed at the door, and turned out to be Willie Fairfield,
of the Flying Blues, who had just called to let us know he had received
a telegram from Edinburgh announcing the defeat of the Hibernian in the
protested match with Dumbarton, by six goals to two.
Willie, it may be mentioned, had drawn the Hibernian in our "sweep," and
was, I may inform all concerned, well pleased with his luck when the
ticket came out the bag; but now much crestfallen. Bill Weldon, however,
who had secured Dumbarton in the same drawing, jumped off his chair at
the success of the club he had secured, and remarked--"Look here, boys,
Dumbarton are just about good enough to win the Association Cup, and
I'll take evens on't." "Done," said a chorus of voices, and Mrs. Blank's
parlour was for a few minutes transformed into a betting house on a
small scale.
We had a long chat as to the respective merits of the Rangers and
Dumbarton, who were to play their tie over again, in consequence of some
informality, and after draining Jack's bottle, were accompanied to the
door with solemn injunctions not to kick up a row on the stairs.
Weeks passed after this little incident, and the clubs left in our
"sweep" were getting small by degrees and beautifully less. The Rangers,
Partick, South-Western, Northern, 3rd L.R.V., Arthurlie, Kilmarnock
Portland, Alexandra Athletic, Thornliebank, Heart of Midlothian, and
even the plucky little Clyde were cleared off the list, and the Queen's
Park had their own ado with Kilmarnock Athletic, and only beat that
sturdy Ayrshire Club by three goals to two. All that now remained in the
tie, in fact, were Q.P. and Dumbarton.
It was Weldon and Pate Brown for it now, and both began to dream of a
good pocketful of "sovs."
Pate, who was engaged to charming little Lizzie Green, had been living
very carefully for a time in prospect of shortly calling Lizzie his own,
was only now a casual visitor to Cook's lodgings. One evening, on his
way home from Ball & Field's, Pate began to reckon up his chances of
winning the "sweep."
"One hundred and five subscribers at a 'sov.' a-piece," said he, "why
that makes £105. The odd 'fiver' will pay all the expenses, and if the
Q.P. win the Cup, why all that will be mine. Oh! glorious Q.P.,
invincible Q.P., you must and shall win the Cup," raved excited Pate.
"Lizzie, my own dear lassie, I have not told you about my speculation,
nor will I till the tie is over, and we'll get married this summer yet."
I do not intend to weary my readers with a detailed account of the final
Cup ties, for everybody knows there were two played. In the first, when
the clubs tied, and Dumbarton had the best of the game, little Pate
Brown nearly lost his senses with excitement, and had frequently to lean
heavily on the shoulder of Lizzie Green to prevent him from falling
under the grand stand.
"What is it, dear, that makes you so terribly pale at a match?" she said
to him in a gentle whisper. "You must be ill, for I have never observed
you so excited before." Little did the young lady imagine what was at
issue, and the cause of Pate's nervousness; but she knew afterwards, and
had a jolly laugh over it in her own tidy little house at Govanhill.
Who does not remember the real final tie on Cathkin Park? Such a match
will, perhaps, never be seen in Scotland again. How both Queen's Park
and Dumbarton played with all the force and dash they could command, and
how at length the Queen's Park were the conquerors, and Pate Brown won
the double prize.
A few nights afterwards Pate received one hundred sovs. (there were no
second and third prizes) in the "Marie Stuart," and when he told the
young fellows assembled that he was about to get wed to Lizzie Green,
every soul of them (not even excepting Bill Weldon himself, who had
drawn Dumbarton in the speculation, and lost a few "sovs." on them too),
congratulated him on his choice, and called Pate a "lucky dog."
They all knew and admired the neat little girl who, among other blithe
and gentle faces, turned out to see the leading football matches, to
cheer the players when they won, and chaff them when they lost.
They were married--Pate Brown and Lizzie Green--and in presence of his
old club companions, whom he had invited to spend an evening at his new
house, Pate told the simple story of how he had got married to his
little darling a year sooner than he expected, all through drawing the
Queen's Park in a "SWEEP FOR THE CUP."
_IV.--FAMOUS ASSOCIATION PLAYERS--PAST AND PRESENT._
Little did the comparatively small but orderly group of enthusiastic
spectators who met around the ropes at Hamilton Crescent Ground,
Partick, eighteen years ago, to witness the first International
Association match, imagine the ultimate development of the Association
style of play in Scotland, and in after years the triumphs which awaited
her sons in contests with England. I was present, and shall never
forget the manner in which the teams--both Scotch and English--acquitted
themselves, and made a drawn game of it.
~The Five Dead Internationalists.~
The ranks of the past crack players are beginning to get thinned by the
common enemy of mankind. When I think of the busy feet, blithe and happy
faces, and merry voices that joined in the game twenty years ago, a
sense of sadness comes over me which it is difficult to dispel. "The
first International, sir;" yes. Five of the gallant eleven who fought
Scotland's battle are dead. Poor Gardner, Smith, Weir, Leckie, and
Taylor, football players, have cause to remember thee! It was a hard
struggle to keep up football in those days, and as there were no club
funds all the items of expenditure had to be brought forth from the
capacious pockets of the members. They loved the game, however, those
primitive players, and engaged in it for its own sake, without ever
thinking of reward. In the words of a great poetess, "We shall sing
their praise ere long;" and while it may be thousands of dribblers of
the present never heard their names, it is but right that the young ones
should not forget what they owe to the Association football pioneers.
Yes, the boys of the old brigade are falling out of the ranks in which
they served so well, never to muster again on this side the grave; while
others, still toiling on, are "scattered far and wide, by mountain,
stream, and sea."
~Joseph Taylor.~
The admitted chief of the five who have gone to their rest was Joseph
Taylor. Of a quiet and unassuming disposition, blended with remarkable
firmness, no man who captained the Queen's Park was so much respected
both on the field and in private life. None hated unfair or rough play
more. He could not endure it in a club companion, and this was
particularly so if his team were playing a comparatively junior
combination. Taught in the early school of Association football, when
the rules were much more exacting than they are now, he had, along with
his colleagues in the Queen's Park, to fight their preliminary battles,
and overcome the prejudices consequent on introducing the "reformation,"
so to speak, in football. Taylor developed into a first-class back when
comparatively young, and was chosen to play for his club against England
in 1872, when the Queen's Park met that country single-handed, and
played a drawn contest. Considering his light weight, he was a fine
tackler, returned very smartly to his forwards, and, possessing
remarkable speed, completely astonished an opponent by clearing the ball
away before the forwards of the opposing club were able to obtain any
advantage. He had always a kind and encouraging word to young players,
and in 1875 and 1876 was chosen captain of the Scotchmen, and played, in
all, five times against England. He died in Govanhill about three years
ago.
~Robert Gardner.~
As the first captain of the Queen's Park in the International of 1872,
and also chosen to that post next season in London, Gardner, who has
also joined the great majority, was the most extraordinary player of his
day. He was so versatile that I have seen him at work in all the
different positions of the field--goalkeeper, back, half-back, and even
forward--but it was as a goalkeeper that he excelled. A very
indifferent kicker out in front, when the ball came up, he sometimes
made mistakes with the feet; but when I remember the brilliant men who
have since stood between the posts in Internationals and final cup ties,
each in their line famous, I must confess that none ever used their
hands and weight to greater advantage than Gardner. Possessing a
peculiarity of temper which had much of the Scotchmen's sturdy
independence, he had a difference with some of his friends, and left the
Queen's Park to join the Clydesdale, and did much to assist that club to
attain at the time the second position in Scottish Association football.
Members of both clubs will not easily forget the manner in which Gardner
kept goal for his new combination against the Queen's Park in a cup tie,
when three matches had to be completed before the senior club won. He
retired from the game some time before his death, which took place at
South Queensferry a year and a half ago.
~James E. Weir.~
Who could dribble and keep possession of the ball like Weir? In a
football sense he was in everybody's mouth sixteen years ago, when crack
forwards were few, and neat dribblers fewer. In all the contests the
Queen's Park engaged in for ten years, none was more popular among the
spectators, and emulated by the then young generation of players, than
Weir. He always worked on the right side, and with William M'Kinnon,
Angus Mackinnon, H. M'Neil, T. Lawrie, and T. C. Highet for companions,
the exhibition of dribbling and passing, with the six forwards, was
finer than is the case now with the five. The ball had then to touch the
ground after being thrown in straight from the line before being played.
Under those circumstances, heading by the forwards was never seen in the
field, unless after a corner-flag kick. Well can I remember the match at
Hampden Park against the London Wanderers, whom the Queen's Park
defeated by six goals to none, when Weir, being tackled by the Hon. A.
F. Kinnaird and C. W. Alcock, put his foot on the ball, shook off the
two powerful Englishmen, and made a goal. The sad news only arrived
lately from Australia, whither Weir had gone some years ago, of his
demise. Deceased played in two Internationals, including that of 1872,
and no finer dribbler ever toed a ball. He was, in fact, at the time
designated the "Prince of Dribblers."
~Joseph Leckie.~
In every condition of life, no matter the sphere in which one is placed,
he has his own peculiarities, and, in a football sense, Leckie, above
all the gallant throng who have disappeared for ever from the field, had
his. Comparatively short of stature and powerfully knit together, with
splendidly moulded limbs, Leckie was one of the most tenacious forwards.
While dribbling past an opponent with the ball at his toe, his
peculiarity asserted itself in such a way that, once seen, could never
be forgotten. Weir, Smith, W. M'Kinnon, H. M'Neil, and, later on,
Fraser, Highet, and Richmond, among the army of forwards brought out by
the Queen's Park; to say nothing of M'Lintock, M'Intyre, and Baird (Vale
of Leven), J. R. Wilson and Anderson (Clydesdale), T. Vallance and P.
Campbell (Rangers), and A. Kennedy and J. Hunter (3rd L.R.V.), of whom I
will say something later on, had all their imitators in the younger
clubs, but Leckie had none. He was, in fine, a player by himself. When
he obtained possession of ball, he guarded his body with extended arms
drooping from his side, with the back of his hands in front of the
thighs, and thus formed a barrier to an opponent who attempted to tackle
or take the ball from him. He took part in the first International. He
died about three years ago in South Africa.
~James Smith.~
The least known, perhaps, of the original International men, but one
whose name will ever be honoured by many of the older school of players,
and locally Queen's Park members, is Mr. James Smith, who died some
years ago in London. Mr. Smith was, in conjunction with his brother
Robert, early associated with the game in Scotland, and was an original
member of the Queen's Park. Mr. Archibald Rae, the first secretary of
the Scottish Football Association, and at one time an active member of
the Queen's Park (and a beautiful dribbler in his day), tells an amusing
anecdote of Smith, while playing against the Hamilton Club, leaping on
the top of a hedge to win a touch-down, which in those days counted a
point in the game. This entirely coincided with poor Smith's play, as he
was sometimes very impetuous. He played in the International of 1872 as
a forward.
~William M'Kinnon.~
Dealing now with the past players who are with us in the body, for a
long series of years, and, indeed, till within a short period of
retiring from the field, no centre forward of his day, and very few
since, have equalled M'Kinnon in that trying position. When the 3rd
Lanark Rifle Volunteers started the dribbling game on the old drill
ground at Govanhill, or rather when that small burgh was "No Man's
Land," M'Kinnon was one of its most active players. It is in connection
with his membership of the Queen's Park that I wish to recall incidents
in his career. In 1874 I made my way over to the South-Side Park to
witness a match between the Queen's and the Vale of Leven. Association
football was then a very insignificant affair--the Rugby code, with such
fine clubs as the Glasgow Academicals and West of Scotland as
exponents--engaging all the public attention. The game was free to all.
"Ladies and gentlemen, no charge for admission. Come and see our game.
Kick-off, 3.30." Well, M'Kinnon, along with the rest of the team,
emerged from the old toll-house, close by, to meet their gallant
opponents, and Mr. Parlane, of the Vale of Leven (who kept goal so well
for that club in many of her best matches), "chaffed" the Q.P. man in
amusing manner about his boots (See "The Conqueror's Football Boots"),
which were new, and differed considerably from the style then worn by
players. All through the contest, which, by the way, was drawn, with no
goals on either side, M'Kinnon was a little stiff, and scarcely played
so well as was his wont. He never discarded his old companions, however,
and those very boots in after years kicked many a goal both in
Internationals and final cup ties. As an indication, in fact, of his
genuine ability, he was chosen to play against England oftener than any
man in Scotland, with the single exception of Mr. Charles Campbell, who
was selected no fewer than ten times as a half-back. Mr. M'Kinnon was
engaged in eight, including the first, and in these his country was
victorious four times, and two were drawn matches. As a centre forward
has to bear the brunt of an attack from the opposing side first,
M'Kinnon was the very man to lead on the advance guard. His pluck was
immense; and while he rather delighted to dodge an opponent and leave
the charging to his backer up, he was a close and beautiful dribbler;
could play a hard match without any outward signs of fatigue, and no man
before or since could take a corner-flag kick like him. He used to
practice this kick, and could place the ball within a few inches of the
spot aimed at. Mr. M'Kinnon is still in our midst hale and hearty, and
when a good thing in football is announced he generally turns out to see
his favourite game, and is not afraid to criticise the form shown by his
successors.
~David Wotherspoon.~
Mr. Wotherspoon was early associated with the Queen's Park; indeed, one
of the original members, and did much in his day for football. When the
senior club found it a matter of difficulty to get up an eleven to play
in the country, some times at East Kilbride (for you must know that
important agricultural centre had a club nearly twenty years ago),
Alexandria, and Hamilton, Wotherspoon and Gardner were generally the
first volunteers. There were no fares paid in those primitive days out
of club funds, and each individual had to square up his own account,
like the Scottish cricketer of the present. Although retired now for a
number of years, and out of the run of the game, Wotherspoon, who is in
business in the city, is always delighted to hear of its development,
and proud of what he did in his youth for it. If ever a man had neatness
of style, combined with gentlemanly conduct to an opponent on the field,
it was Wotherspoon. Considering the fact that he was a light-weight,
under 10st., he many a time astonished both opponents and spectators by
his magnificent returns at half-back, and I may mention, in passing,
that in a match at Hampden Park I actually saw him kick a ball from the
centre of the field right through the goal--a feat that very few of our
younger half-backs could accomplish now. As I saw him in two
Internationals (1872-73), however, it was not as a half-back, but as an
accomplished forward, dribbling with great judgment, and passing in a
most unselfish way. Mr. Wotherspoon left the Queen's Park to join the
Clydesdale a short time after his old companion Gardner, and the two
were associated with that club when it numbered among its members such
fine players as Messrs. F. Anderson, G. M. Wilson, J. R. Wilson, W.
Wilson, J. P. Tennent, J. M'Pherson, W. Gibb, J. T. Richmond, and
David's brother, J. Wotherspoon. In the first of the long string of
matches which have been played between Sheffield and Glasgow, dating
back to 1874, Mr. Wotherspoon was one of the players; and it may be
mentioned that, in the same contest, the Glasgow representatives were
made up entirely of Queen's Park and Clydesdale men, and that each city
scored a couple of goals.
~James J. Thomson.~
No player among the half-backs of the old school was so much thought of
in Association football as Thomson. Once seen and met by an opponent, he
could never be forgotten. Tall and stern in appearance, he carried every
pound of his heavy weight with the greatest ease, and, what was of more
consequence to his club in a hard battle, used it well. He tackled with
consummate skill, and had remarkable confidence in himself. For the
first three years of his membership no player ever turned out more
regularly to practice, and, for a stout man, none could show an opponent
a cleaner pair of heels. All the time he was available in the Queen's
Park, an International without Thomson as one of the half-backs was out
of the question, and for three seasons (1872-73-74), he was selected for
that post against England. In the last event, when Scotland won at
Partick by two goals to one, the brilliant manner in which Thomson
played will not easily be forgotten by those who witnessed the contest.
While F. Anderson (Clydesdale), and A. Mackinnon (Queen's Park), scored
the goals for Scotland, Thomson never worked harder in his life, and
when the English forwards got near his side, he rarely, if ever, failed
to take the ball away from them. Just before leaving for Manchester, Mr.
Thomson was chosen captain of the Glasgow Eleven against Sheffield. Some
years ago he went to Liverpool, and is now secretary of the extensive
butcher business of Eastmans Company (Limited). In addition to his
ability as a football player, Mr. Thomson was a splendid sprinter, and
carried off a large number of prizes both in Glasgow and Edinburgh.
~William Ker.~
Mr. William Ker was captain of the Queen's Park when they leased their
first private ground, and did much by his tact and ability to bring on
our senior club to seek new conquests in England. Mr. Ker--of whose
brother George I shall have occasion to refer by and by--was a most
gentlemanly young fellow, and made himself respected by club companions
and opponents alike. In the early history of the game a half-back, and
even back, did not consider it _infra dig._ to dribble a bit and bring
up the ball to goal, provided the match was against a much weaker club,
and while Ker was a grand back and beautiful kicker with his left foot,
he was also an accomplished dribbler. In a match he never lost sight of
the ball for a moment, and when any of his team made a mistake in
following up, Ker frequently stepped into the breach himself, and did
his best to get the player out of a difficulty. He was too gentlemanly
to upbraid a member of the team on the ground, like some captains
now-a-days, but awaited an opportunity, and the advice imparted
generally did the careless player a world of good. In the famous match
at Partick in 1872, Ker showed some very fine play, both in clever
tackling and returning the ball; and, if I mistake not, he was opposed
on the opposite side by the English captain (Mr. C. J. Ottaway, since
dead), and the manoeuvring between the pair was something to be
remembered. Mr. Ker did not play very long after this game, as he left
Glasgow for Canada.
~Robert Smith.~
Unlike his brother in the manner of his style, Mr. Robert Smith was not
by any means an impulsive player, but took in the situation quietly; and
while no man ever worked harder in the field, or did more for a club, he
was not what could be called a brilliant forward. The brothers, however,
did well in the International I have referred to, and considerably
helped the eleven to make a drawn battle of it. It may be mentioned that
both were then also members of the South Norwood Club (one of the best
in England at that time), as they had previously left Scotland for
London. Mr. Robert Smith, so far as I am aware, is now in the United
States.
~Alexander Rhind.~
A rare but light dribbler was Mr Rhind. One of the old members of the
Queen's Park, and associated with men whose names I have already
mentioned in its early struggles, he knew, if I may be allowed to use a
simile which is likely to force a smile, what football poverty was, for
is it not a fact that he was a member of the Q.P. Finance Committee
when the annual subscription was _sixpence_, the yearly income £3 9s.
8d., and as the expenditure amounted up to £4 2s. 4d., the deficit of
12s. 8d. had to be made up by a levy? I never remember Mr. Rhind playing
in a match after the International. He is now in Aberdeen.
~The First Final Cup Tie.~
The First Final Association Cup Tie, on Hampden Park, I remember well.
The clubs fated to meet each other were the Queen's Park and Clydesdale,
and the match, considering the fact that the players were comparatively
young in the practice of the dribbling game, proved a very fine one
indeed. It was on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of March, 1874, and
a crowd of fully 2000 spectators attended. The Hampden Park of to-day,
with its splendid pavilion and accessories, and beautifully laid-off
turf, was not then conceived in the minds of the Match Committee. It was
the Hampden Park of yore, now cut up to form a railway embankment. Mr.
Hon. Secy. Rae and his companions in office never for a moment imagined
that in sixteen years afterwards the new ground, which is crowded nearly
every Saturday afternoon with excited spectators, would be made to
satisfy the cravings of a football public, and the exigencies of
athletic life. There was no such thing as a pavilion then, only a kind
of "wee house" at the gate end of the field, for all the world like an
overgrown sentry-box, did duty instead. The grass on the field was not
even cut in some places, and at the top corner-flag was long and turfy.
The spectators, however, of whom a large number were ladies, enjoyed it
very much, and the enthusiasm imparted among the youths who were present
had a wonderful effect on the spread of the game. It was thought that a
draw was inevitable, so well did both sides play till within twenty
minutes of the finish, when Mr. Wm. M'Kinnon scored a goal for the
senior club, and this was followed by a second from the foot of Mr.
Leckie, not long before no-side was announced, leaving the Q.P. the
winners by two goals to none. I must, however, go back a little way and
say something about the
~Association Challenge Cup,~
which has caused a new order of things to arise in Scottish football.
Well, during the previous year, and, in fact, not long after the first
International at Partick, new clubs were formed in many quarters, but
more particularly Glasgow and Dumbartonshire, and it was on March 13,
1873, that the Queen's Park convened a meeting of representatives of
clubs, and what is now known as the Scottish Football Association was
formed. Eight clubs responded, and created the great Association. The
eight, who deserve much honour at the hands of players, were:--Queen's
Park, Clydesdale, Vale of Leven, Dumbreck, Eastern, Rovers, 3rd L.R.V.,
and Granville, and those clubs were represented on the committee by Mr.
Arch. Campbell (Clydesdale), president; Mr. W. Ker (Queen's Park), hon.
treasurer; Mr. Archibald Rae (Queen's Park), hon. secretary; with the
following committee:--Messrs. Ebenezer Hendry and Wm. Gibb (Clydesdale),
J. Turnbull (Dumbreck), D. Macfarlane (Vale of Leven), W. E. Dick (3rd
L.R.V.), T. Mackay (Granville), J. M'Intyre (Eastern), and R. Gardner
(Queen's Park). Next in order came the Challenge Cup, and the
competition for that trophy was in full swing. The necessary funds were
soon forthcoming, and a very neat, but plain, specimen of the
silversmith's art was brought forth. The subject for ornamentation was
taken from a cut in the _Graphic_, representing a player in the act of
dribbling at the first International, and made by Messrs. George Edward
& Sons. There you have it now, gentlemen, rather dry reading and
technical, though, but nevertheless the infant life of a great
competition. By a strange coincidence in the respective matches, and one
which the players of a former era will look upon with a sense of
sadness, consists in the fact that of the twenty-two who took part in
that game seven are dead. Of these the senior club has the misfortune to
claim five--Messrs. J. J. Taylor, J. B. Weir, J. Leckie, J. Dickson, and
A. Mackinnon; while the Clydesdale, so far as I am aware, has only two,
Mr. J. R. Wilson and Mr. Robert Gardner. As I have already given short
sketches of Messrs. Taylor, Weir, Leckie, and Gardner, under the head of
"Dead Internationalists," and J. J. Thomson and W. M'Kinnon under
another, I have only to deal with R. W. Neil, J. Dickson, T. Lawrie, C.
Campbell, Angus Mackinnon, and H. M'Neil (Queen's Park), and the whole
of the Clydesdale, with the sole exception of R. Gardner.
~Charles Campbell.~
Mr. Campbell seems to have had no real starting point in his football
career. The love of the game and its early associations came to him as
if by nature. I am told that when he was quite a boy he used to appear
on the ground at Queen's Park to see his brother Edward playing with old
club companions. He soon began to dribble about, and afterwards show
splendid ability in long-kicking and tackling, and in 1873-74 played for
the Queen's Park in her best matches. The final cup tie, however, was
his first big event, and no doubt the lessons and confidence he obtained
in that match served him well in after years, when he was destined to be
the greatest favourite both among players and spectators that ever took
part in any cup tie or International. Mr. Campbell has now retired from
active duty on the field, but his love for the game, and the welfare of
the players engaged in it, induced him to accept the presidentship of
the Association for 1889-90, and one and all are alive to the fact that
he discharges his duties with the greatest fidelity. As a brilliant
tackler and neat kicker at half-back, it might honestly be said of him
that he had no equal. Men who played against him on great occasions (for
Mr. Campbell always rose to his best form in these) have good cause to
remember how he could "head" the ball away from goal at a critical
moment, and get it through quite a forest of legs. As he was not one of
the cracks in the final cup tie of 1874, I must honestly confess I can't
remember how he played, but as his club scored a victory, and he was one
of the half-backs, he must have done well. Mr. Campbell rarely, if ever,
spends a Saturday afternoon away from Hampden Park in the winter time;
takes a lively interest in his mother club, and, what is of more
account, can still play in his favourite position with great dash and
precision. He has the unique distinction of playing in ten
Internationals with England, and been an office-bearer of his club since
1873.
~Thomas Lawrie.~
Mr. Lawrie has done much for football in connection with his club and
the Association, both by example and precept. In the early days of the
Queen's Park he was one of their most brilliant forwards, and in several
of the cup ties, notably that between the Queen's Park and Renton,
proved the best man on the field. He never shirked his work, or left
hard tackling to the half-backs, but sprang on the ball and opponent at
once, and generally had the best of it. Of all the fine forwards who
received their football education under Mr. J. J. Thomson's, and later
on Mr. C. Campbell's and Mr. Joseph Taylor's captaincy, none could keep
his feet better on the field; and it was quite a rare thing to see
Lawrie grassed by an opponent. Although not much above the middle
height, he was a perfect football Hercules, and not long before retiring
from the field opponents in some of the matches would frequently make
earnest inquiries about whether he were to be included in the Q.P. team
on that day. But for an accident to the knee which made him retire,
after being chosen to play in the International against England in 1874,
Mr. Lawrie would have then represented his club. After giving up active
duty in the field, he has rendered noble service by being president of
the Scottish Football Association, and loves the game as dearly as ever.
~Harry M'Neil.~
The first final cup tie brought into prominence one of the neatest
little dribblers and passers that ever played on the left wing of any
club. Methinks I see him now, with his quick action, short step, and
unselfish play, gliding down the side of the field, dodging an opponent
close on the touch-line, and causing the spectators to laugh
immoderately. Spectators are prone to make favourites, and while Mr.
Campbell was assuredly one at half-back, Mr. M'Neil was none the less
loved among the forwards. While playing in the leading games he was
always ready with his joke, and I'll back him to be the best man in the
world to explain away a defeat and magnify a victory for the club he
loved so well. Mr. M'Neil was chosen seven times to play against England
and Wales, and I remember his efforts and their results with pleasure.
The only time he was sorely beset was in the International of 1876, when
Mr. Jarrett (Cambridge University, I think), one of the English
half-backs--a powerful young fellow--tackled him severely. The gallant
little Queen's Park man, however, withstood the charges well, and came
up from mother earth smiling. That match, however, ended in favour of
Scotland by three goals to none. Mr. M'Neil was a member of the 3rd
L.R.V. at the start of his career, and also of the Rangers, but joined
the Queen's Park in 1872.
~Robert W. Neill.~
Mr. Neill kept the late Mr. J. J. Taylor company at back in many of the
most trying and critical Q.P. matches of 1876, '77, '78, and '80, and in
all those years was a familiar figure in the Internationals against
England and Wales. As we have previously said about the deceased Mr.
Leckie, players have their peculiarities, and Neill had his. He was a
really brilliant back and pretty sure tackler, but relied too much on
his feet while defending goal, instead of using the breast and head. His
individuality consisted in meeting the charge of an opponent with bended
knees, and he had the knack of taking the ball away and making a
brilliant return in a style that roused the cheers of the spectators. He
was a very hard worker to the last, and only retired from football to go
abroad some years ago. He has, however, returned to Glasgow, and may
frequently be seen at some of the best matches of the season. His play
during 1877 and 1878 was exceptionally good, and in those years was in
the best form of any back in Scotland.
~John Dickson.~
Poor fellow! Mr. Dickson had but a short career, not only in football,
but in everyday life. He caught a severe cold one bleak evening coming
from Hampden Park after a practice match, and succumbed to the malady of
inflammation of the lungs at the age of 28. He started his football life
as a back; but when the Queen's Park lost Mr. Gardner he was tried as
goalkeeper, and did very well. Tall and gentlemanly in appearance, with
neatly trimmed sandy whiskers and moustache, Dickson kicked out in front
of his goal very neatly, and was not afraid to meet the charge of an
opposing forward. An incident in his career caused a great deal of
amusement at the time, however, and is worth recording, just to show the
immense faith he had in the infallibility of his old club. It was in a
cup tie with the Vale of Leven, when that club beat the Queen's Park by
two goals to one. Dickson appeared at goal with an umbrella, as the rain
was falling fast, but when the Vale scored their first goal he was
obliged to throw away his companion, and work harder than ever he had
done before.
~Angus Mackinnon.~
A powerfully-made young fellow, above the medium height, Mr. Mackinnon
was a very fair forward, and always played in the centre with Mr.
William M'Kinnon, his namesake, and the pair were a "caution" to meet in
a hot tussle. The six forwards took part in the play then, with two on
each wing and a couple in the centre, and it was a treat to see how well
the Mackinnons worked in their places. Mr. Angus, however, was rather
short in the temper, and often had a "few words" with both companions
and opponents during a game. He played a very indifferent game in the
final tie and some of the matches previously, but was really in
excellent form at that same year's International against England, and
scored one of the goals. Mr. Mackinnon died about four years ago in
Canada.
~Frederick Anderson.~
If there is one player more than another that deserves to be remembered
by his old club, the Clydesdale, for the manner in which he brought it
before the public by scoring one of the goals in the third International
at Partick in 1874, it is Anderson. He was a very fine dribbler, and
about the most difficult man in the Clydesdale forwards to get the ball
away from after he had obtained possession. Although not one of the
original members, he was early associated with the Clydesdale, and
played in the best games of seasons 1874, '75, and '76. He was a bit of
a sprinter, and very fast on the ball, with very fine staying power.
Many of the backs who played against him during his best days were
afraid of Anderson when he got near the sticks. He is now in Manchester.
~John M'Pherson.~
Mr. John M'Pherson, of the Clydesdale, is a much older player than his
namesake of the Vale of Leven. When the Clydesdale went into the game
with a dash that astonished even the Q.P., he was one of their finest
forwards, and, possessing great speed, was not easily tackled by the
best backs of the day. He always played on the right wing, and was a
dangerous man at goal. Mr. M'Pherson did much both for football and
cricket in Inveraray, and even now takes an interest in his favourite
pastime in Rothesay, where he assists his father in the management of
the Queen's Hotel. It may be mentioned that, in addition to his other
qualifications, for "he was so versatile," M'Pherson has acted on more
than one occasion as outrider to Her Majesty when she visited the
Highlands. In 1875 he played against England.
~William Gibb.~
I am sorry to say Mr. Gibb is dead, and that the sad event severs the
link that bound the whole of the Clydesdale eleven together, with the
exception of the blank left by the loss of their accomplished
goalkeeper. Mr. Gibb was a tall and powerful young fellow, and I have
frequently seen a few of his opponents feeling rather shy before
attempting to oppose his progress towards goal. During the winters of
1873, 1874, and 1875, the Clydesdale forward play was good. So brilliant
was his form in 1873 that he was taken to Landon to play against
England, and scored one of the goals got by Scotland, who were defeated
by four goals to two. Mr. Gibb's only fault on the field was a
disposition to over-run the ball. He died about two years ago in India.
~A. H. Raeburn.~
In the first final cup tie Mr. Raeburn was one of the half-backs, and
played up with great dash and pluck. If my memory serves me right, he
was one of the original members of the Granville Cricket and Football
Club when the ground was at Myrtle Park, about a couple of stone-throws
from Hampden Park. He was very fond of the game, and no man in the
Clydesdale had more enthusiasm. Mr. Raeburn was a fine tackler, and not
easily flurried when meeting an opponent, and with such men as the
Mackinnons to face in the centre and Weir on the right that day of the
final, he had his own ado. He did not play very much after this game.
~Ebenezer Hendry.~
Mr. Hendry was more of a cricketer than a football player, and made many
fine scores for his side during the early years of his career. With the
exception of Mr. Gardner and Mr. Anderson, all the members of the
Clydesdale could play cricket, and it was more for the purpose of
keeping members together during the winter months that the dribbling
game was started on Kinning Park (the old home of the senior cricket
club of Glasgow). Mr. Hendry was a slow tackler, and took too long to
get on the ball, but when he got a fair chance, was a very neat kicker,
and showed good judgment.
~J. R. Wilson.~
During the past season, Mr. Wilson, who had been abroad for a number of
years, made a visit to his native city, and was welcomed back by his old
friends of the field with remarkable pleasure. No man in the club was
more highly beloved and respected, and, in after years, when his brother
Walter joined the club and played in several of the leading matches, the
pair rarely if ever missed a practice evening. Mr. Wilson was very fast
on the ball, and went right ahead when he got possession. In 1874 he was
chosen to play for Glasgow against Sheffield. In the cup tie which is
now under notice he made some very fine runs, and did much to make a
name for the old Clydesdale. It is with much regret I have to announce
that Mr. Wilson died in Glasgow only a month ago.
~James M'Arly.~
A hard worker and plucky tackler was Mr. M'Arly. For a long series of
years he was one of the finest batsmen in cricket that Glasgow produced.
Contemporary with Mr. Thos. Chalmers (Caledonian), the pair often met on
the field for their respective clubs; but so far as football is
concerned Chalmers played the Rugby game for the Glasgow Academicals,
while his contemporary was half-back in the Association Clydesdale.
About a dozen years ago he went to Manchester, where he is engaged as
partner in a large calico printing business; and the other day I had a
chat with him about old times, and he enjoyed it immensely.
~John Kennedy.~
Pressed into the service of his club on very short notice, Mr. Kennedy
played in the tie as a substitute. He had only been a few weeks at the
game when the match took place, but the young and rising generation of
players must remember the substitutes were few in those days, and it is
not the first time I have seen a match played with one of the clubs a
man short. Kennedy played as a forward, but afterwards developed into a
very fair back, and showed capital judgment in that position.
~J. J. Lang.~
Originally a member of the 3rd L.R.V., Lang left that club and joined
the Clydesdale in 1874. He played in the final, I think, as centre
forward, and backed up Mr. J. R. Wilson. Possessing splendid dribbling
powers, he was a very "showy" player, but his short steps did not make
anything like the progress with the ball one imagined at the time. He
was a somewhat heavy charger when he got the chance, and frequently
preferred to take his man before the ball.
~A Final Charity Cup Tie Eleven Years Ago.~
Bringing my reminiscences down to 1879, the year above all others when
Association football was, so to speak, in a kind of transition stage,
the clubs that earned the greatest fame, and justly so, were the Queen's
Park, Rangers, and Vale of Leven. Who, among all the gallant throng that
played in those clubs--and, for that part of it, the spectators--can
forget the exciting tussles engaged in by the trio? In this year the
Rangers met the Vale of Leven in the final tie for the Association
Challenge Cup, and also in the final for the Charity. Party, or shall I
say club, feeling ran as high, if not higher, than now, the excitement
was great, and intensified by the fact that the Leven men had been
eventually awarded the Association Cup without playing off the drawn
match, in consequence of the Rangers not turning up. Later on, too, the
crack Dumbartonshire eleven overthrew the Queen's Park in the semi-final
of the charities, on Glasgow Green, by four goals to none. Well, it was
on Tuesday evening, 20th May, that the battle came off on Old Hampden
Park, and both the Rangers and Vale of Leven mustered in strong force.
Lovely weather helped to swell the crowd, and some 12,000 people were
inside the ground. The Vale of Leven scored almost at once by Mr.
M'Dougall, and this looked like the prelude to victory. The Rangers,
however, set their teeth, and before the contest closed vanquished their
powerful opponents by scoring a couple of goals--one by Mr. Struthers,
and another out of a scrimmage. Since then eleven years have come and
gone, and with them a new generation of football players. Seeing that
the Rangers were the victors, I shall proceed to give sketches of their
eleven who played on the occasion, and deal with the Vale of Leven
afterwards.
~George Gillespie.~
In connection with the dribbling game in Glasgow, it should be generally
known that Mr. Gillespie supplies the link which binds the players of
the dead past to those of the living present. He is still to the fore,
and does duty as well as ever. Early in his football career Mr.
Gillespie was not a goalkeeper, for I am certain I saw him play at back
in some of the early matches of the "Light Blues." Nature,
metaphorically speaking, never intended him to be anything in the game
but a goalkeeper, and a brilliant one, too. How he kept goal in this
great match, and dozens of others, is still fresh in the memory both of
old players and spectators. He is the only man on the active list who
played ten years ago, and had the distinction of appearing against
England twice and Wales three times. From the Rangers he joined the Q.P.
about six years ago.
~Thomas Vallance.~
The early history of the Rangers--their triumphs, misfortunes, joys, and
sorrows--have all been shared in by Mr. Thomas Vallance, and he still
sticks to them like the veritable leech. Who could captain a young team
like he? When Vallance led the Rangers to victory in this final Charity
tie, I am sure he was barely out of his teens, and I don't think would
even yet hesitate to don the blue jersey of the club were it hard up for
a back. Vallance was a back, indeed, and for several seasons, but more
particularly that of 1879-80, none in Scotland showed better form. His
returns near goal were neat and clean, and without being in any way
rough with an opponent. Vallance's length of limb and good judgment
often saved his club from losing goals. The whole of the Rangers "lo'ed
him like a vera brither," and at practice his word was law. He played
four times against England.
~Alexander Vallance.~
With quite as much pluck, but awanting in finish and style, the younger
of the brothers, Mr. Alexander, was nevertheless a fine back. Lighter
made and more easily tackled than Thomas, he had a way of his own in
running out the ball before making the final shy, and when this was done
well, as it frequently happened in a first-class match, young Vallance
received a perfect ovation from the crowd. Alexander was in fine form in
this tie, and some of his returns were splendidly made. Instead of going
at an opponent with the air of an infuriated bull, as some backs are
prone to do now-a-days, he kept close to his man, and waited for an
opportunity, which was at once taken advantage of. Like his brother, he
is still in the city, and takes a kindly interest in his mother club.
~Hugh M'Intyre.~
Mr. Hugh M'Intyre and Mr. J. Drinnan were the half-backs in this
contest. No such new-fangled device as three half-backs was ever thought
of in Scotland at that time, and you may be sure the pair had hard work.
Of all the players sent out by the Rangers, M'Intyre was in many
respects the most powerful. He was, however, to be outspoken, the
coarsest. Woe betide the light and gentle forward who tried to pass Mr.
Hugh! He pounced on his man at once, and with raised back--for he was
somewhat round-shouldered--gave the excited spectator the idea that he
meant to have the ball at any cost. His weight gave him an immense
advantage in tackling, and I think old players will be at one with me
when I say that he was the best at that kind of work in Scotland. He was
about the first to leave Glasgow and accept an engagement in England. He
played against Wales in 1880.
~James Drinnan.~
In the list of the Rangers' eleven who took part in the match under
review, the name of Mr. Drinnan does not occur, and I am obliged to
proffer an explanation. In the report of the contest one "R. Jackson" is
credited with keeping H. M'Intyre company on the occasion. As the
incident is past, and Mr. Drinnan no longer amenable to the laws of
engineer apprenticeship, he did in this match what a great many men have
done before him--viz., played under an assumed name. He was a very fair
back, but not sufficiently brilliant to obtain notoriety, and never had
the distinction of playing in an International. He was, nevertheless, a
very useful all-round player, and could take his place as a centre
forward at a moment's notice.
~Peter Campbell.~
The Rangers a dozen years ago without Mr. Peter Campbell would have been
like the Queen's Park now with Mr. William Sellar left out. He was the
life and soul of the forward division, and it is not too much to say of
him that a finer dribbler and harder worker never kicked leather. Poor
Campbell, like so many more of the old lot, is gone to his account! In a
terrible storm in the Bay of Biscay, which left many a home desolate,
seven years ago, the steamer in which he was chief engineer foundered,
and not a soul was left to tell the tale. Quiet and unassuming in
manner, Mr. Campbell was beloved by all, and his untimely death is still
mourned by the Rangers, for whom he did so much. In 1878-79 he was in
such good form that he was chosen to play against Wales, and in 1876 and
1878 did duty for Glasgow against Sheffield.
~Moses M'Neil.~
The M'Neils are quite a football family, and, what is of more account,
have gained distinction in the game. Is it not a fact that Mr. Peter was
one of the founders of the famous club nineteen years ago, and that
Messrs. Harry, William, and Moses kept the ball rolling on Kinning Park
with credit for many a day? Moses is the youngest of the lot, and
consequently what may be termed the most modern. He was quite a boy when
this cup tie came off, and played with a dash and finish on the left
wing that completely astonished all who were present on Old Hampden Park
that May evening. Mr. Moses, too, was more than a mere local player, and
through sheer force of ability was chosen to play against England in
1880, and acted in the same capacity for Scotland against Wales in 1876.
He is still young and active, and resides in the city.
~William Struthers.~
An original member of the Partick, when that club could boast of having
as good a team as now, Struthers was associated with the old pioneers
in Messrs. Boag, James S. Campbell, Love, Sutar, Bell, and Smith, and
joined the Rangers the previous year before the tie. He was a beautiful
dribbler, after the style of Mr. T. C. Highet; went right ahead with the
ball close at his toe, and was the most difficult man to tackle in the
Rangers. He left Scotland some years ago for England, where he played
for the Bolton Wanderers. In brilliant form in the match, he made some
fine runs in company with Mr. Campbell and Mr. Hill, and was successful
in scoring the first goal got for the Rangers. Mr. Struthers is now in
England, where he has settled down.
~David Hill.~
A most unselfish player was Mr. Hill. He was slow, but sure, and if ever
a man showed an example in the field by at once passing on the ball when
necessary, and never opening his mouth from kick-of to time call, it was
he. One of the prominent figures all through quite a decade of seasons
for his old club, Mr. Hill rendered the Rangers valuable service, and
never failed to turn up when he was wanted. In the final Association
Challenge Cup match with the Vale of Leven, played shortly before the
one I am touching upon, and which ended in a tie, some splendid passing
was witnessed between him and Mr. Wm. Dunlop, who, by the way, could not
play in the Charity event in consequence of an injury sustained a week
before.
~Alex. Steel.~
Like the other members of the Rangers, Mr. Steel was very young when he
joined that club. His enthusiasm for the game, however, was unbounded,
and I have been told by an old Rangers' man that he was one of the
original "moonlighters" of the club. This phrase gentlemen, requires
some explanation. It does not refer to Ireland and its agrarian
grievances. No, no. It was only a few choice spirits of the Rangers who,
determined to win all matches, used to practice at full moon, and
frequently frightened some of the belated lieges in the vicinity of
Kinning Park, who swore the place was haunted.
~Charles M'Quarrie.~
Although retired from active duty on the field, Mr. M'Quarrie is even
now in football harness as the treasurer of the Partick Thistle. He did
not play in many of the first eleven matches of the club, but being a
promising lad was always available as first reserve forward. He was
rather a neat dribbler and good backer-up, but a little slow in
tackling. He was always a steady player, and did very well in this game.
He did not play very much after this tie, but gave up football
altogether, till his old love for the game returned some years ago, when
he joined the Thistle, and is one of their most earnest committee
workers.
~Robert Parlane.~
I now proceed to the Vale of Leven men who played in this tie, and
goalkeepers, beware! and, let me tell you, don't think too much of
yourselves nowadays! We had a great man who stood between the posts a
dozen years ago, quite equal at all points to you, and his name was
Parlane. Who did not know Mr. Robert Parlane a decade ago? In the early
history of Association football some of the best players ever Scotland
produced were also good cricketers, and Parlane was one of these, and a
grand wicketkeeper. Without saying too much of the men who have over and
over again distinguished themselves, I cannot help saying that a better
goalkeeper never chucked out a ball. Mr. Parlane did very well in this
match, his only fault being a disposition to go away too far from his
charge. He kept goal for Scotland against England in 1879, and is now in
Belfast.
~H. M'Lintock.~
For six years no man ever did better work for his club than Mr.
M'Lintock. In fact, the Vale of Leven would as soon have scratched
altogether in a cup tie as entered into a doubtful contest without him
and their other great back, Mr. Andrew M'Intyre. M'Lintock did more than
any of the old school now living to popularise a style of back play
which ten years ago was emulated to a large extent all over the country.
He had a most graceful way of turning the ball when it came dangerously
near the goal, and running it out by dodging an opponent. He used both
feet with equal freedom, and was decidedly the cleanest kicker that ever
played in the Vale of Leven. It is a curious fact, and one worth noting,
that Mr. Forbes adopted much the same style. M'Lintock played against
England in 1875 and 1876.
~Andrew M'Intyre.~
Mr. Andrew M'Intyre was a terrible fellow to meet in a hot scrimmage,
and no matter the forwards who opposed--and I have seen three at him in
a close tussle in front--M'Intyre generally had the best of it and got
the ball clear. His powerfully-knit frame served him in good stead in
all the great matches in which he took a prominent part. In the one
under review M'Intyre was sorely beset by the pick of the Rangers'
forwards, but was always in the right place. No player of his day could
work as well in so little space, and get the leather away safely. His
only fault was to be a little demonstrative in the field with opponents,
and tell them a bit of his mind during the game. In 1878 he was chosen
to play against England.
~J. Macintyre.~
The play of the two namesakes was as different as the poles asunder. Of
a fair height and good appearance, Mr. J. Macintyre was one of the most
excitable men that ever stood in front of a goal. He generally warmed up
at bit, however, and even showed more daring when his old club were
playing an uphill game, and I know for certain that in the great drawn
matches for the Association Challenge Cup, between the Vale of Leven and
Rangers, no man ever did harder work. He was slow to get on the ball,
and at times very erratic, but rarely if ever lost an opportunity. Very
rough in tackling, he, above all others in the club, was severe on the
opposing forwards.
~J. M'Pherson.~
Among the Vale of Leven back division, which was so powerful long ago,
none was more devoted to the game than Mr. M'Pherson, who held his place
for several years as one of the backs of whom Caledonia felt proud.
Without the least show or fussiness, M'Pherson did his work quietly, and
had the credit (and a good one, too) of being next to Mr. John Ferguson,
the best-natured footballer in Dumbartonshire. He could play a
magnificent game when he liked, and one season particularly--that of
1883--when he was one of the Scottish Eleven against England at
Sheffield, ably assisted his team to win a hard match by three goals to
two.
~J. Macfarlane.~
The Vale of Leven at the time this tie was played had a rare forward
combination, and in some of their best matches the dribbling and passing
among them were something to be remembered. Macfarlane, however, was
certainly not the best of the lot, but a very safe man, and could play
equally well on the left wing or the centre, and, if I mistake not, work
excellently as a backer-up to J. M'Gregor. Now, when I think of it, he
was severely tackled in this match by H. M'Intyre, and was not in such
good form as some of the other forwards.
~R. Paton.~
There are few, if any, old players in Dumbartonshire, and, I should say,
spectators as well, who cannot remember the familiar figure of Mr.
Robert Paton. A nicely-featured little fellow, with a joke for every
acquaintance, he was full of vivacity, and an intense love for his old
club, the Vale. Yes, "The Vale." Nobody ever called it anything else.
Paton, above all the other forwards who did so much to make the Leven
men beloved at home and feared "abroad," even to the next parishes and
the big city of Glasgow, was a fine player, and never kept the ball
longer than was necessary if he saw a chance. He played against England
in 1879.
~J. Baird.~
Mr. James Baird was a fair average player, without anything very
remarkable about him. The combination, as I have already said, was so
good among the Vale of Leven at the time when this great contest took
place that an inferior or selfish player would soon have found his
level. The forwards, in fact, were all pretty much alike, but with
clearly defined degrees of brilliancy, and Mr. James Baird was one of
the lesser lights. He was a good runner and smart at following up, but
his dribbling was sometimes too wide for the others when following up on
the enemy's lines. When hard pressed he often lost the ball, but in a
scrimmage in front of the posts he was a rare shot at goal, and scored a
good many for his club.
~J. C. Baird.~
Of all the forwards who learned the game at Alexandria, on the old
ground belonging to the Vale, perhaps, in many respects, Mr. J. C. Baird
was the most distinguished, and, at the same time, the most gentlemanly.
When the Vale of Leven beat the Queen's Park for the first time in one
of the ties for the Association Challenge Cup, on Hampden Park, Mr. J.
C. Baird played a perfect "demon." On the slippery ground he kept his
feet against all comers, dribbled and passed on splendidly, and fairly
took the breath away from John Dickson when scoring the goal which gave
his club the victory. Mr. Baird was chosen to face England in 1876, and
again in 1880.
~J. M'Gregor.~
If one had met Mr. M'Gregor off the football stage, so to speak, they
would never for a moment have taken him for a brilliant and accomplished
player at all points. He was all nerve and sinew, and always in grand
form. His disadvantages in appearance and weight, however, were kind of
blessings in disguise to his club, for the opposing backs sometimes
treated him with indifference, and even contempt. This was M'Gregor's
opportunity, and never man used it better. If ever he made his way past
the backs, and was alone with the goalkeeper, ten to one but his team
was a goal to the good in a few minutes. He played against England in
1877, 1878, and 1880.
~J. M'Dougall.~
Two years previous to this final tie, Mr. M'Dougall was the most
brilliant forward in Scotland, and he and Mr. J. T. Richmond (Queen's
Park) were the first two forwards selected to play against England. A
fine figure on the field, and a capital dribbler, without being showy,
M'Dougall was always near the ball when wanted, and it sometimes took a
couple of opponents to get the leather away from him. For three years in
succession he was selected to appear against England. In the tie with
the Rangers, Mr. M'Dougall was captain of the team, and scored the only
goal made for the defeated club.
~The Great International of 1882.~
The eleven who were chosen to do battle for Scotland in this contest,
close upon nine years ago, were considered in many respects the best
that had ever donned International caps in any tussle before or since,
and a better illustration of the wisdom of the Association Committee in
their selection could not have been given than the result itself--viz.,
Scotland, five goals; England, one. Hampden Park was the meeting-place,
and as one of the football giants of the day (E. Fraser) is, like some
of my dear old friends, now lying in the grave, and others who took part
in the memorable event divided by thousands of miles from those with
whom they fought and won for Scotland, I should like to pay a tribute of
respect to their football ability, and let the young and rising
generation of players know that such men appeared in the arena, and
played the game as well as it is done now. The match took place on the
11th March, 1882, and as England mustered a very powerful eleven, the
issue was doubtful. About a quarter of an hour, however, after the
start, Mr. Ker and Mr. Harrower had a fine run, and Harrower made the
first point for Scotland but at half-time the score stood--Scotland, two
goals; England, one--Ker having added the second, and Vaughton the one
for England. In the last round, the Scotchmen, although playing against
a good breeze, had it all to themselves, and scored other three points
by Messrs. M'Pherson, Ker, and Kaye. In giving short sketches of the
International eleven, I have only to deal with eight of the players, as
Messrs. Charles Campbell, A. M'Intyre, and G. Gillespie have already
been noticed in previous articles while engaged in other matches. I
shall accordingly begin with
~Andrew Watson (Queen's Park).~
Mr. Watson did a great deal for football in the Glasgow district a dozen
years ago, both with his ready purse and personal ability in the game.
It was in a great measure owing to his interest and energy that the
young Parkgrove Club obtained proper ground, and was fairly put on its
way rejoicing. The Parkgrove had a lot of very fine young fellows in its
ranks, and for several years made a capital record in numerous matches
under the captaincy of Mr. Watson. In this International he played as
right-side back in company with Mr. Andrew M'Intyre, and, as an
indication of how he and his companion behaved, it is necessary to say
that only one goal was got against them. Mr. Watson was a rare
"header-out," and was famed for his fine tackling and neat kicking. He
had one fault, however, and this consisted in kicking over his own lines
occasionally when hard pressed by a dashing forward. In the previous
year he was the Scottish captain against England, in London, and led his
team to victory by 6 goals to 1.
~Peter Miller (Dumbarton).~
When Mr. Miller played in this match, the Dumbarton Club was a power in
the land, and not easily beaten. He was left half-back, and had as his
companion Mr. Charles Campbell, who captained the victorious eleven. Mr.
Miller was remarkable for his magnificent tackling at close quarters,
and possessed weight, which told against England in the contest. Again
and again I saw him shake off both Mr. Cursham and Mr. Parry, two of the
Southrons' ablest forwards, and once Mr. Mosforth and he had an amusing
bit of play near the Scotch goal, in which the Sheffielder came off
best. Mr. Miller was, altogether, a very fine back, and when he retired
a few years ago the Dumbarton Club had considerable difficulty in
getting a good man properly trained to supply his place. Next season
(1883) he was also chosen to play against England and Wales.
~E. Fraser (Queen's Park).~
Lost to his club and the thousands of delighted spectators who witnessed
his brilliant ability as a right-wing forward, but not forgotten by the
members of the old Q.P., Fraser, "though dead, yet speaketh." I question
very much if any forward of that time among the mediæval class of
players, so to speak, exercised such a potent influence over the
spectators, and no style of play was more followed by the younger
dribblers than that of Fraser. A son of the manse, he was a highly
cultured young fellow, and loved football so devotedly that no amount of
hard training was ever shirked by him when under probation for the first
eleven. Dribbling beautifully up the side of the field, he had the knack
of "middling" the ball at the proper time, and for six years no man ever
assisted at the scoring of more goals. He was also included in the
following season's eleven against England, and in 1880 did duty for
Scotland in the Welsh match. Poor Fraser died in Australia, a few years
ago, shortly after arriving there.
~William Anderson (Queen's Park).~
In the International of 1882 Mr. Anderson and Mr. Fraser played on the
same side, and made a very good pair. The former, although not above the
medium height, was powerfully built, and few, if any, of his formidable
opponents were able to bring him down to mother earth. When he did fall,
however, he was never in a hurry to rise, and took matters easy. If one
could imagine such a thing as an easy-going football player, it was
Anderson, but his failing sometimes came in handy, for he would
occasionally make a gallant spurt, and pilot his way through the
opposing backs in a way that completely astonished his team and their
friends. He showed very well in this match, and the manner in which he
and his companion dodged the Englishmen, not even excepting Mr. Bailey,
the crack Clapham Rover half-back, will be easily remembered by those
who were present. Mr. Anderson is now abroad, and it is something to his
credit to say that he played four times against England.
~J. L. Kaye (Queen's Park).~
Like a good many fine players of the glorious past, Mr. Kaye received
the best of his football training in the ranks of the 3rd L.R.V., and a
couple of years, I think, before this big event, joined the forward
division of the black and white stripes. Of a good-natured disposition,
and a genial fellow to meet both on the field and at the social board,
Mr. Kaye was a great favourite all round, and much sought after outside
the pale of his own club. He was a very fine forward; a good dribbler,
but was much more easily tackled than Anderson, and occasionally felt
shy at meeting an opponent who had frightened him in a previous match.
He must have done well in this contest, as he is highly spoken about in
the newspaper reports, and scored the fifth and last goal got for
Scotland. He was also an old and tried hand at Internationals, as he
faced the English division three times, and Wales also in the same
number of matches.
~R. M'Pherson (Arthurlie).~
What might be honestly termed the illustration of a fair field and no
favour, Mr. M'Pherson's name was added to the International players of
that season through sheer force of ability. I saw him play in several
matches that year, and his style and smart passing up from the left wing
was justly admired. He was Mr. Kaye's companion in this contest, and
ably assisted that player to bring up the ball in several splendid runs.
Since M'Pherson's retiral from active duty, and also the fact of Mr.
Turner, their famous goalkeeper, giving up the game, the Arthurlie have
gone back a bit in football ability, but during two seasons they were
able to have two nominations for International honours, as Mr. Turner
kept goal against Wales in 1882. Possessing great speed and judgment,
M'Pherson was a very neat and steady player, and for two seasons at
anyrate, a star among all the Renfrewshire forwards.
~George Ker (Queen's Park).~
A sketch of an International, cup tie, or, in fact, a first-class
contest of any kind ten years ago, would be altogether incomplete
without some reference to Mr. George Ker, now abroad. From 1880 to 1883
he was Scotland's best centre forward, and the originator of what is now
known in football parlance as the "cannon shot" at goal. Many players
have since tried it, and made fairly good attempts, but Ker alone could
do it to perfection. In this International he gave the Englishmen a
taste of his ability in this line. He passed Mr. Greenwood, the English
extreme back, and when fairly in front watched how the goalkeeper (Mr.
Swepstone) would take in the situation. Ker spun the ball hard from his
toe at the proper moment, and sent in a "flyer," which took effect. I am
all but certain that if a vote were taken among players and spectators
about the place to be assigned to centre forwards, Ker would come out
the admitted chief. International honours were his thrice against
England.
~W. Harrower (Queen's Park).~
The Queen's Park had no fewer than five forwards in this season's
International, and Mr. Harrower was one. He played in the company of Mr.
Ker, and the central division of the Scottish team was unusually
strong. In fact, I distinctly remember some remarks made at the meeting
of the Association, at which I was present, about the combination at
that point being the most powerful ever sent out by Scotland. Mr.
Harrower was really a beautiful dribbler, not easily knocked off his
pins, and the most unselfish player I ever saw. He has the credit of
earning the first goal got for Scotland in the match under notice, and
was in the best of form the whole of that season. He took a leading part
in the hard work of the Queen's Park for five years.
~A Narrow Shave in the 1885 International.~
There are yet other two Internationals, which introduce new faces into
the field of play, and the first is that of 1885 at Kennington Oval,
London, and ended in a tie, each side scoring one goal. Kennington
Oval--in the winter time, at anyrate--is to football in London what
Hampden Park is to Scotland in general and Glasgow in particular. The
weather was delightful on that afternoon (Saturday, 21st March), and the
spectators mustered in considerable force. Not, of course, so largely as
we can show in Glasgow, for it takes an enormous amount of attraction to
gather a big crowd in London. There was little or no wind to interfere
with the play, and as both teams were in the pink of condition, it was
an illustration of Greek meeting Greek in the open. The Scotchmen,
however, were the first to make matters exciting by scoring a smart goal
from the foot of Mr. Lindsay, and this was all the effective work done
in the first round. The second forty-five minutes of the play was also
of a very give-and-take order, and once Mr. Allan hit the English goal
bar with a hard shot, but the ball rebounded into play, and was
eventually sent behind. Towards the close, however, the Englishmen, led
by Messrs. Bambridge, Cobbald, and Brown made a fine run, and the former
put the game square for England. The contest, therefore, as I have
already indicated, ended in a tie. As in all the other events that I
have already touched upon, many of the players are now scattered far and
wide. Some have given the game up altogether, while others are still
playing on, and doing football duty as well, if not better, than ever
they did before. Taking the eleven in the order of positions, I shall
begin with
~J. Macaulay (Dumbarton).~
Among the brilliant array of goalkeepers who have sprung up to
distinguish themselves during the past ten years, none deserves a more
kindly notice in any football reminiscences than Mr. Macaulay. The
present match was the third he stood sentinel before Scotland's
stronghold, and he also played in '86 and '87. His first was at
Sheffield in 1883, when I saw him save several splendid shies from the
feet of the English forwards, and it is something to add of him that he
was included in the Scotch teams who never lost a match with England. In
the 1885 contest he kept goal in his best form, and was frequently
cheered for the manner in which he got out the ball and dodged the
English forwards. Mr. Macaulay was very quiet and unostentatious in his
manner, and did his work brilliantly. He returned to Scotland the other
day from abroad, and may yet play for some of our leading clubs.
~Walter Arnott (Queen's Park).~
Second in the order of teams, but premier in all that pertains to back
play, comes the name of Mr. Arnott. Out of all the fine players who
acted as extreme backs, none has done better work for his club and, let
me say, International matches. It is all very well to say that there
were giants in those days, but you all know what befell Goliath, and I
cannot help saying that if you were to ask me candidly (taking the
question in an all-round way) who was the best back you ever saw, I
should have no hesitation in answering that it was Walter Arnott. In the
words of the old English ballad, "he feared no foe," and never in the
history of football of the present time has such a brilliant man arisen.
He has so many remarkable points that I cannot tell them in a brief
notice, but as he is still playing well, spectators are at one in
admitting his grand ability.
~M. Paton (Dumbarton).~
The match under review was Mr. Paton's second appearance against
England, and he acquitted himself very well. Somehow or other the
committee of selection in International matches, while they honestly do
their duty, sometimes move in a mysterious way, and the selection of Mr.
Paton to stand alongside Mr. Arnott in this contest was, at the time,
considered somewhat risky. Not by any means because Mr. Paton was not a
good back, but in consequence of the diversity of play shown by the
pair. Mr. Paton was nothing if he was not allowed a little latitude, and
in some of the matches he came off with flying colours. Arnott and he,
however, acted well together. To give Mr. Paton his due, he was a most
gentlemanly young fellow, and did his very best for the game.
~J. J. Gow (Queen's Park).~
It has just occurred to me, and I can't see how the illustration might
not with equal force be applied to football as in the honest range of
every-day life, that if a "round-robin" were sent about the clubs that
tackled the Q.P. in their best matches in the past decade, I am certain
that the verdict about the man who was most feared in all the elevens,
the name of Mr. J. J. Gow would come out first. He was, in fine, a
half-back that the Q.P. had reason to feel proud. Half-backs might come
and go--as they undoubtedly did--but Gow seemed in his football career
to go on for ever. The most mysterious thing about him was that he was
always in the same form, and never had any practice. Football at
half-back seemed to come to him by nature, and cost him no effort. He
could return splendidly, but at close tackling, and in clearing the ball
away, he was sometimes a little slack, and had to make it up by sheer
force of hard work.
~Alexander Hamilton (Queen's Park).~
Not long ago, while "doing" a match at Hampden Park (I think it was Q.P.
v. Battlefield, in the Glasgow Cup), I met my old friend in the pavilion
looking on and enjoying the sport. Like the M'Neils, the Hamiltons are a
football family, and while Mr. James, who is now an active member of the
present Q.P., will come under my pen later on, I have only at present to
deal with Mr. Alexander. Well, he was something in his day, and by no
means to be despised as a forward. He was not a fast dribbler, but when
hard work was required, and wasn't it just in the great match against
the professional Preston North End, when the Q.P. were able to hold
their own, Mr. Hamilton never played better in his life.
~William Sellar (Queen's Park).~
I have for the most part been dealing with the past, and it is no force
of imagination to come straight to the living present, and add that a
better left-wing player never appeared in any club or combination of
players than Mr. William Sellar. He has a style of his own which is, to
give the Battlefield its due, peculiar to that club's ability in the
dribbling game. Mr. Sellar did not learn all his football in the Queen's
Park, but really perfected his style on Hampden Park, and he is
undoubtedly, at the present time, the most brilliant forward in
Scotland. Gentlemanly in every sense of the word, Sellar is the fairest
player that ever faced an opponent, and no man is more respected on the
field. In addition to this contest, he played against England in 1886,
1887, and 1888. It may be mentioned that in 1890, in playing against the
3rd L.R.V., he played from the left in a style never excelled by any
forward.
~Joseph Lindsay (Dumbarton).~
Before this date, Mr. Joseph Lindsay was what might be called an old
hand at Internationals, as he had appeared before England in 1881 and
1884, and Wales in 1880, 1881, 1884, and 1885. It is not too much to say
of him that he was the most dangerous forward (to an opponent, I mean)
of his day, and if the backs were in any way slack, Lindsay "spread
dismay around," as he was a dead shot at goal, and rarely, if ever,
missed a chance if he got within a dozen yards of the sticks. Lindsay
was the best forward in many respects that ever toed a ball for
Dumbarton. He was, however, sorely tried in the finishing year of his
football life, and in many of the leading matches so closely watched by
the opposing backs that he was sometimes fairly done for, and could not
get the ball away.
~David S. Allan (Queen's Park).~
Like Sir Roger de Coverley's definition of a great ethical question to
one of his numerous friends, "that much might be said of one point," the
illustration holds good when applied to Mr. David Allan. Popularity has
its duties as well as its privileges, and there is not a single forward
in broad Scotland who is so popular and so much beloved by club
companions and opponents alike as Mr. Allan. He is, in fine, the most
useful man in the Queen's Park, and while all of us seem to grow older
as each season comes round, Allan has always that juvenile look which
undoubtedly betokens an easy and contented mind. He is not what might be
called a brilliant and showy forward, but I'll back him to do the best
hour and a half of heavy work in the world without any outward sign of
fatigue. I verily believe if Allan were forced to do it, he could play
in any part of the field with a few minutes' notice.
~R. Calderwood (Cartvale).~
In consequence of Mr. R. M. Christie, who had played in the
International, of the previous year, meeting with an accident in one of
the trial matches, Mr. Calderwood did duty as left-wing forward in this
match, and played very creditably. He was by far the best man in the
young Cartvale, and a finer country player never came under the eye of
an International referee. He was a veritable dodger among the opposing
backs, and in this contest gave the Englishmen, but more particularly
the Walters and Amos, a lot of trouble. He played a fine game in
combination with the rest of the Scottish forwards. In the same season
Mr. Calderwood played against Wales in the Principality.
~The Final Association Cup Tie of 1886.~
The clubs left in the final tie for possession of the Blue Ribbon of
Association football glory in this season were the Queen's Park and
Renton. Queen's Park led off by scoring from the foot of Mr. Lambie, and
this was all the effective work till ends were changed, when the Renton
team made a brilliant charge on the Queen's Park goal, and forced the
ball through in a scrimmage. The play immediately after this was so even
that a draw looked certain, but the Queen's Park eventually assumed
command, and scored other two goals (one by Mr. Hamilton and another by
Mr. Allan), and won a hard contest by three goals to one. As most of the
Renton players who took part in the match were considered famous in
their day, and have not been already introduced to you, I shall give
short sketches of their style of play. So far as the Queen's Park team
are concerned, however, I have only to deal with new faces in Messrs. R.
M. Christie, G. Somerville, and J. A. Lambie, as all the other eight
(Messrs. Campbell, Watson, Gow, Harrower, Hamilton, Arnott, Allan, and
Gillespie) have already been disposed of in the present volume.
~J. A. Lindsay.~
Somehow or other the Renton Club were never very strong in goalkeeping
when the perfect form of their forward division was taken into account,
but Mr. J. A. Lindsay was decidedly their best. He had what might be
called his good and bad days, however, and while he was always clever
with his feet, he sometimes misjudged the ball and allowed a "soft
thing" to take effect. In the present contest he had hot work in keeping
the Q.P. forwards clear. Mr. Lindsay showed such brilliant form in the
trial matches of 1888 that he was chosen to represent Scotland on
Hampden Park. He was somewhat unfortunate there, however, as England
revenged Bannockburn to the extent of five goals to none.
~A. Hannah.~
Who does not remember Mr. Hannah's fine fly-kick and powerful tackling?
In meeting and judging the ball in the air he rivalled the great Q.P.
back himself, but wanted the ability to follow up an advantage. In
nearly all the matches in which he took part that season, Hannah worked
hard and earnest. He had a peculiar way of turning round to an opponent
and taking the ball away from him with the side of the foot, and no man
in the Renton team was more feared by an opponent than Hannah. He never
played against England, but in 1888 was picked out to represent Scotland
against Wales.
~A. M'Call.~
In this tie Mr. Hannah had as his companion at extreme back Mr. A.
M'Call. In some of the earlier matches in which the latter appeared he
was a wild tackler and erratic in charging--rather going for the man,
and never minding the ball--but by and by he mellowed down, and
returned the leather beautifully from a besieged goal. I remember seeing
him in several of the leading games that same year, and he showed a
neatness of style which won for him golden opinions. He played against
Ireland in 1888.
~R. Kelso.~
Mr. Kelso was a tower of strength to the Renton team at half-back, and
did his duty in this contest. Rather a shade rough on an opponent at
times, Mr. Kelso could also be generous to the foe when he liked, and
sometimes made a brilliant hit at half-back by clearing away the ball
from the feet of an opponent, just when the latter was poising for a
shot at goal. Like Mr. Leitch Keir, of Dumbarton, he was, and is, a
magnificent half-back, and had International honours against England in
1887 and 1888.
~D. M'Kechnie.~
In connection with Mr. M'Kechnie's name in juxtaposition with Renton's
crack half-back, I must honestly confess I am like Cuddie
Headrigg--"Between the deil and the deep sea." I can only remember
seeing him twice. I come to the conclusion, then, that he must have been
a substitute, and if I am wrong in my supposition I shall be glad to
stand corrected. He was at any rate not sufficiently brilliant to get
his name handed down to posterity, although it must be said of him that
he was a fair average player, and did very well in this game.
~J. Thomson.~
Although he had a disposition to "poach" a little now and again, as some
forwards are apt to do, for you all know it is human to err, Thomson was
a grand player, and made the most of his speed. He never kept the ball
longer than was necessary, and if he thought his club would benefit by
it, shied quickly in from the touch-line no matter where his companions
or opponents alike were stationed on the field. He was really a fine
shier, and his dribbling powers beyond dispute.
~J. M'Call.~
The Renton team had now risen to the acme of their fame, and no player
helped them more to attain that position than Mr. J. M'Call. Some clubs
carry their position through sheer force of medium ability all round;
some have rare luck with their goalkeeping and backs; but, there is no
doubt about it, Renton was strong in front, and I question if any man
during that season played a better game than the younger M'Call. He
represented Scotland in the contests with England in 1887 and 1888 as
left-wing forward, and played a fine game.
~A. Grant.~
When the Renton men carried off the Glasgow Charity Cup that same
season, the forwards showed great ability. Mr. Grant was a very neat
player. If my memory serves me right, he backed up Mr. Barbour in this
game, and did it very well. He was, however, rather slow on the ball,
and was often sent to the right-about by Messrs. Gow and Watson. Like
Mr. M'Kechnie, he does not seem to have played in many of the Renton's
first-class matches, and his name is not found among Internationalists.
~A. M'Intyre.~
Mr. M'Intyre was one of the best forwards in the county which has
produced so many fine Association football exponents, and acted as
centre forward. Like Mr. D. Gow, of the Rangers, when he got fairly on
the ball there was no getting it from him and he excelled in hard
tackling. Possessing considerable speed, M'Intyre used it to the best
advantage, and he had such a liking for dodging round the backs that he
sometimes fairly carried away the spectators, and was loudly cheered for
his manoeuvring.
~A. Barbour.~
In this event Mr. Barbour was the best man on the Renton side, and kept
his feet on the slippery ground in a manner that completely astonished
all who saw the contest. He was sometimes fairly puzzled by the clever
heading of Mr. Campbell and the terrible tackling of Mr. Arnott, but
fought gamely to the last. In close dribbling he was the nearest
approach to Mr. William M'Kinnon (Q.P.) I have ever seen, and while he
was quite as tricky, wanted the tact to lead an opponent astray. He
played against Ireland in 1885.
~J. Kelly.~
What Mr. Marshall is to the 3rd L.R.V., Mr. Berry to the Queen's Park,
and Mr. Groves to the Celtic, Mr. Kelly was to his old club, the
Renton--viz., a grand man. Kelly, I think, first came out as a forward,
and played as such for his county against Renfrewshire in 1885, and also
in this tussle on Cathkin Park, but he eventually developed into a very
fine half-back, and played against England as such twice--in 1888 for
his mother club, and last season for his new love, the Celtic. His
proper place, however, is undoubtedly at half-back.
~R. M. Christie.~
Slowly but surely Mr. Christie passed all the probationary stages in the
Queen's Park on the way to develop a brilliant player, and in 1884
appeared in the International with England. He was in the best of form,
and caused the strangers a deal of trouble. He was very strong on his
legs, and about the most powerful opponent of his day to meet in a close
match. The passing between Christie and Harrower that day was splendid,
and fairly astonished the Renton backs and goalkeeper.
~G. Somerville.~
Mr. Somerville was a very fine all round forward, with a good deal of
ability in backing up and middling the ball in front of goal. Mr.
Hamilton and he used to make the spectators laugh at the way in which
they annoyed the opposing backs by passing the leather to one another in
a tantalising way, right in front of the uprights. He was a sturdy
player, something of the same make as Mr. David Davidson, of 3rd L.R.V.
and latterly Queen's Park fame, with a nerve of iron and, shall I say, a
frame of steel. He played against England in 1886.
~J. A. Lambie.~
A comparatively short career had Mr. Lambie on Hampden Park, but it was
fraught with much distinction. He was a grand forward among a fine
division, and scored a lot of goals for the Queen's Park. He was,
indeed, at it again in this match, and, as I have already said in the
introduction, took one more for the black and white stripes. When
nearing the keeper, if he were fortunate enough to pass the backs, he
generally looked about for one of his companions to follow up, and was
quite an adept at the "screw-kick." Lambie appeared against England in
1888, and is now an active member of the Corinthians.
~The Association International of 1887.~
As the International of 1887 is, so to speak, a thing of yesterday, I
have only introduced it here for two reasons. The first of these is to
give me an opportunity of bringing new faces into my reminiscences, and
shortly criticising their styles of play, and the second to show you how
the admittedly best eleven sent out by England in all her matches with
Scotland were vanquished on their own soil by three goals to two. The
event came off at Blackburn in presence of some 10,000 spectators--a
much larger crowd than ever appeared in London to see the International.
The weather was dry overhead during the early stages of the tussle, but
a heavy shower of hail fell later on, and this, added to a mud-covered
ground, made matters anything but pleasant. The Scotchmen were the first
to score, which they did through Mr. M'Call against the wind,
half-an-hour from the start; but the Englishmen soon bore down on the
Scottish lines, and Mr. Lindley equalised, so that at half-time both
nationalities were on terms of equality. Not long after ends were
changed, the Scotchmen made one of those determined charges for which
they have been famed in many of the International games, and shoved both
goalkeeper and ball through between the posts. No sooner, however, had
the leather again been started than Mr. Dewhurst, the crack English
forward, sent in a shooter, and once more squared the game. It was now
"night or Blucher" for Scotland, and after a grand run between Messrs.
Marshall and Allan, which was loudly cheered, even though an enemy did
it, the young Queen's Park forward made Scotland one goal up. Till the
close the Englishmen had several brilliant sallies on the strangers'
goal, but the backs--Messrs. Arnott and Forbes--held their own, and
Scotland won by three goals to two. Mr. Macaulay kept goal in fine
style, and was the captain of the victorious team. The Englishmen chosen
to meet the Scotchmen on the occasion were--Messrs. Roberts, A. M.
Walters, P. M. Walters, N. C. Bailey, G. Howarth, J. Forrest, E. C.
Bambridge, W. N. Cobbald, J. Lofthouse, F. Dewhurst, and T. Lindley.
Besides the six who are mentioned below, Messrs. Arnott, Macaulay,
Kelso, J. M'Call, and W. Sellar (who have already been noticed) also
appeared against England in the same contest.
~J. Forbes (Vale of Leven).~
Like certain cricketers who can only cut, and are weak on the leg-side,
there are several backs playing for fair medium clubs just now who can
only return the ball properly if they have plenty of room to work, but
Mr. Forbes, who played in this match along with Mr. Arnott, was none of
these. You were, in fact, not five minutes in his company as a spectator
at a match before you were captivated with the style and finish of his
play. In the excitement of the game you imagined it was "all up with the
Vale," when a crowd of opposing forwards were observed getting the ball
nearer goal. All the time, however, Forbes was maturing his mode of
attack, and like the unsuspecting animal that darts upon its prey, the
crack Vale of Leven back dashed in, and you were sure to see the ball
flying away down the field, with a magnificent return. While kicking he
always got his toes well under the ball, and it was quite a rare thing
to see Forbes kicking high into the air. A great favourite with his club
and opponents as well, Mr. Forbes first appeared against England in
1884, when Scotland won by one to none, so that in both Internationals
in which he took part his team were on the winning side. He is now in
business in England.
~L. Keir (Dumbarton).~
When in the spring of 1887 Mr. Leitch Keir was chosen as companion to
Mr. Kelso (Renton), and Mr. Auld (3rd L.R.V.), in this great event at
Blackburn, almost everybody had confidence in them as half-backs, and I
am happy to say that this confidence was not misplaced, for no better
trio ever did duty in an International at that important position in the
field. For good, even-down tackling, and hard work, both in heading and
clean kicking, Keir was one of the very best men who ever played
football. So proficient was he at a "free kick," that when a "hand" was
given against the opposing team, in most of the Dumbarton matches, Keir
was invariably intrusted with the ball; and when the infringement took
place near the goal, the opposing team always dreaded his shot. He was
also a very fine dribbler for a half-back, and could run out the ball in
fine style from a hotly-pressed goal, and send it spinning down the
field. In the succeeding year he was chosen to appear against England on
Hampden Park, but, like the rest of the Scottish representatives in that
fatal contest, he did not show to the best advantage.
~J. Auld (3rd L.R.V.).~
During the past four or five years, Mr. Auld has been one of the best
half-backs in Scotland, and was a decided success in this contest. No
club in Britain has produced a string of better backs and half-backs
than the 3rd Lanark Rifle Volunteer Athletic and Football Club. Long
ago, many of their most brilliant victories were won by back play alone,
and this means preventing their opponents from scoring, and keeping what
they had got in the earlier stages of a contest. Among these old and
tried hands I must remember poor John Hunter (who is dead), Mr.
Alexander Kennedy, who still goes out to see his old club, and delights
to give the young ones an advice; Mr. William Somers, the gigantic
high-kicker, now in America, and many more, whose names shall long be
remembered in football history: but to Mr. Auld. He is yet a brilliant
half-back, and while by no means a heavy kicker, one of the most
judicious men in front of a hard-pressed goal I have ever seen. He is a
terrible tackler, and sometimes hugs an opponent so tenaciously that he
forces the ball away and saves his side. The 1887 match was the only one
in which he played for Scotland against England, but he appeared that
same season against Wales.
~J. Marshall (3rd L.R.V.).~
For two seasons, at any rate, and, I think, I might almost say three,
Mr. Marshall has maintained the honoured position of being about the
best right wing forward on any field. Gifted with an amount of speed,
which he uses to the best advantage, combined with rare dribbling
powers, he is the pride of the 3rd L.R.V. forward division, and no man
is more missed from a match. In connection with the last observation,
the Volunteers had to play the Rangers in the third round of the Glasgow
Cup without Mr. Marshall, and at the committee meeting before the
contest, when this became known, it was like a funeral lodge of
Freemasons--nobody cared to speak except the R.W.M. and M.C. Mr.
Marshall and Mr. Robertson (Dumbarton) were the right wing forwards on
the occasion, and several brilliant runs were made from their side. At
the present time he is about the best at middling the ball in front of
goal of any player going, and is one of those forwards who never seem to
get into a fagged state near the close of a match.
~W. Robertson (Dumbarton).~
Some players are fortunate in easily securing their positions among
crack teams, while others have to struggle on before their genuine
ability is properly recognised. Long ago, ability in selecting a team
went for very little, and positions, like kissing, by favour. Mr.
Robertson, however, received no favour from any combination, and was
selected on his merits. In that same season, I am almost positive, I saw
him play in brilliant form in the Final cup tie, when the Hibernian
overcame the Dumbarton on Hampden Park by two goals to one, and several
of the other matches about the same time. He was a very fine backer up,
possessing first-rate dribbling powers, and although a little shy in
meeting his opponent when he saw a charge inevitable, rather preferring
to use stratagem, was by no means afraid to go into the heart of a
scrimmage and face up to much heavier men than himself. This was Mr.
Robertson's first game against England, and he has no reason to be
ashamed of the way in which he helped Scotland to obtain victory. On the
Monday following this match he played against Wales at Wrexham.
~J. Allan (Queen's Park).~
When Mr. Allan made his appearance in the first match of any consequence
for the Queen's Park, he did so well that both club companions,
opponents, and spectators were completely astonished at his beautiful
dribbling and speed. In Ayrshire, when he played for the Monkcastle
Club, he was looked upon as a very fair young forward, but a few
practice games on Hampden Park seems to have had a remarkable effect on
him, and in one short season he was such a good man that International
honours were given him at once. In this tussle, which was one of the
most trying of the meetings between Scotland and England, Allan played a
grand game, and scored the third and winning goal for his country. The
run that resulted in the score was started by Mr. Marshall, and was one
of the finest ever seen in any contest. In a football sense, however, to
use a simile, Mr. Allan was like Octavian's prosperous star, but with
this difference, he vanished from the scene as quickly as he came, so
far as first-class matches were concerned, and only re-appeared on Ibrox
Park recently against the 3rd L.R.V. and his old club, Queen's Park.
~Glasgow Charity Cup Final Tie of 1888.~
The Renton Eleven are to-day in the proud position of winning the
Glasgow Charity Cup four times in succession--from 1886 down to season
1888-89, and even now the holders of that handsome trophy. In these
finals they polished off the Vale of Leven in 1886 by three to one; next
season the same club by one to none; in 1888 (the year which I have
singled out for review) vanquished the Cambuslang by four to none: and
last spring overcame the Queen's Park by three goals to one. In 1888 the
Renton men held both cups, and what was of more account, won them by
long odds against precisely the same opponents, viz., Cambuslang. In the
final for the Association Challenge Cup the victory was one of six goals
to one, and in the Glasgow Charity Cup four to none. This was, indeed,
the largest score made in the former, and was equal in the latter to
that made in 1877 (the first year of the competition) by the Queen's
Park, when they defeated the Rangers. Cambuslang, however, were at this
time a power in the land, and had previously carried off the Glasgow
Challenge trophy in its first season. In addition to this, they are also
credited with the record of fast scoring--having taken four goals from
the Queen's Park in the last ten minutes of the fifth round of the
Scottish Challenge Cup in 1886, but as the Queen's Park had five points
on previously, they saved the game by one goal. The event of which I
have presently to deal came off on Hampden Park on the 12th May, 1888,
and ended in favour of the Renton, as has already been indicated, by
four to none. The Cambuslang men played well at the start, and a close
match was expected. Through some cause or other, however, they fell away
considerably as the game advanced, and J. Campbell scored the first goal
for Renton, and this was soon followed by a second from the foot of J.
M'Call, the record at half-time being two goals to none in favour of the
crack Dumbartonshire club. The second round, strange to say, was also
well contested at the outset, but the grand forward combination of the
Renton told the tale of defeat to the Cambuslang men, and other two
goals were added. As none of the Cambuslang team have previously come
under my pen, I give them first, and will include three of Renton who
have not been noticed.
~Mr. Dunn.~
More genuine progress has been made in goalkeeping among the Scottish
Association clubs during the last decade than the average spectator
cares to admit, but it is nevertheless a fact. Mr. Dunn played in most
of the best matches of that year, and while he did very creditably in
some of the ties, had the misfortune to lose four goals in this contest.
The Renton forwards, however, were too smart for the bulk of the
Cambuslang backs, and woe betide a goalkeeper when he is not properly
supported there! Mr. Dunn had a lively time of it in the contest, and
saved some splendid shies from taking effect.
~J. Smith.~
The Cambuslang team were never famed for the brilliancy of their back
play. It was what the forward division had done for that club in some of
the most severe and uncertain of their matches that forced them to be
looked upon in Scotland as one of the crack elevens. Mr. Smith was
rather of the quiet and unassuming order of players, who thought much
but said little, and did his work well. He was a fine kicker with either
foot, and his tackling was severe, but honest and clean. With a good
wind in his favour, few backs could equal him in a long kick, but he
sometimes made mistakes near goal when he was hard pressed.
~Mr. M'Farlane.~
The best back in the Cambuslang eleven that season was undoubtedly Mr.
M'Farlane. He reminded me very much of the style of Mr. A. H. Holm
(Queen's Park), who captained the Scottish team against England at
Sheffield in 1883. He had rare ability in close tackling; used to get
the ball away by clever heading, and was the most plucky young fellow to
go to the assistance of a half-back one could see anywhere. His only
defect--and it was a very bad one--consisted in getting up to an
opponent and trying to take the ball away from him in the rear.
Sometimes it came off well, but at others his club had to pay the
penalty with a free kick.
~Mr. Russell.~
In the present contest Mr. Russell was one of the three half-backs, and
in no match during that season had a trio such terrible opponents to
encounter as the two Campbells, M'Call, and M'Callum, who were perfect
demons among the Renton forwards. Russell held out bravely for a time,
but was eventually cornered, and, in the second half particularly, "lost
his head," and allowed the Renton men to get up to Dunn too often. In
some of the smaller matches of the club he played brilliantly, but did
not really rise to the occasion in this memorable cup tie, and in most
of the tackling came off second best.
~John Gourlay.~
It has often been said about Cambuslang that it was a club of three
names! Those names, however, both individually and collectively, were
fearless opponents to meet in any tussle, let alone a cup tie, and to
the credit of Cambuslang be it said, no combination of players ever
served a club so well, and had such pleasure in their hard work, as the
Buchanans, Gourlays, and Smiths. They were more feared than admired by
the members of the clubs twenty miles around, than the Elliots, and
Armstrongs, or, shall I say, the Græmes, of the "debatable land" long
ago. Both Mr. James and Mr. John Buchanan were famous players in their
way, but the back was decidedly the best man, and was selected to play
against Wales the same season.
~A. Jackson.~
Cambuslang's style of play, with their fast following up and jerky
kicking, suited, or, I might say, favoured the old style of six forwards
and only two half-backs, but they insisted on being in the fashion. The
three half-backs, however, were only names to conjure with, but nothing
in real practice, for Mr. Jackson was always made the kind of "flying
man" of the team, and was nothing more or less than a forward. He always
joined the latter division when they were attacking an opponent's goal,
and retired well up among the backs when his club were pressed at the
lines. In 1886 Mr. Jackson played against Wales, and was also included
in the team against Ireland in 1888.
~John Buchanan.~
Although Mr. John Buchanan developed into a very fair half-back, and was
selected to appear against Ireland last spring, he was included in the
present match under notice as a forward, and I think he then played on
the right. He was the fastest dribbler in the team, and a capital
tackler. The combination among the Cambuslang forward division, however,
on the occasion was completely spoiled by the superior tactics of the
Renton eleven, and that fine passing for which the village team were so
justly famed was awanting that afternoon on Hampden Park.
~James Buchanan.~
Although similar in name, the play of the other Buchanan was quite
different from that of Mr. John. He was always cool and collected, and
had a fine style of dribbling and passing which sometimes rose to
perfection itself, but in his runs he was fond of showing off, and was
easily tackled in consequence. But for this fault he would have been
chosen to play in one of the Internationals the previous year. No
player, however, loved the game and his old club so much, and practised
more self-denial to attend the field on the eve of a big match, and do
his best for victory.
~J. Plenderleith.~
Every club undoubtedly has its own ideal type of player, and I am almost
sure that Plenderleith was the favourite among the Cambuslang forwards.
He had speed--and rare speed, too--and with a kind of long kick that he
followed up in a style of his own, made great progress down the field.
He kept too close on the touch-line, however, and his great fault was
kicking out--a dangerous thing when too near goal in this age of smart
throwing in--for I notice a great improvement in this art during the
past few years. We are, however, still behind the Englishmen in this
respect, as most of them play cricket in the summer, and are
consequently good shiers.
~G. Smith.~
Mr. George Smith was what I might honestly term a fair forward, not
brilliant, but steady, and a good backer up. He was, however, always
getting too near the line, and often had to submit to the indignity of
being pressed into touch, and thereby losing the leather. The fact was
he took too much room to work in, and was slow in following up an
advantage. To give him his due, however, he was a very earnest worker,
could stand a deal of tear and wear during a season, and was always
available when wanted in a hurry by his club.
~James Gourlay.~
There is not a more steady player going at the present day than Mr.
Gourlay. He showed remarkable ability in passing and middling, and his
fast shies at goal were really splendid. In this event he was at his
very best. Once or twice he started well with the ball at his toe, and
made tracks for the Renton goal, but was badly supported in the
following up, and often got collared by the opposing half-backs. He
possessed great speed, like most of the other Cambuslang forwards, and
scored a lot of the goals for his club that season in their best
matches.
~H. Campbell (Renton).~
The two Campbells were young players in the Renton team three years ago,
and in this match were considered sufficiently good to be included in
the forward division that did so well against Cambuslang. Mr H. Campbell
was a very fine dribbler and passer, and good at close tackling. The
passing in this tie between Mr. J. M'Call and he was splendid, and went
a long way in winning the match. He was also a veritable dodger when he
got up to the opposing half-backs, and the partisans of the clubs who
played Renton in 1888 used to hold their breath when they saw Campbell
in front.
~J. Harvey (Renton).~
Unknown to fame as a regular player in the Renton eleven until the
season when this event took place, or it may be the preceding one, Mr.
Harvey was one of the victorious forwards. He showed fair judgment, and
middled the ball very neatly to the Campbells and M'Call. His dribbling,
however, was a shade too wide, and as he had excellent speed, sometimes
he over-ran the ball at a time when the other forwards were following
close up, and lost chances to score.
~J. Campbell (Renton).~
Of all the young forwards who graduated in the dribbling game at the
village of Renton, there never was a better shot at goal than Mr. J.
Campbell. Smart on his legs, with a good appearance, he dribbled
splendidly, and half-backs caught a perfect Tartar when they came close
up and attempted to take the leather away from him. His style near goal
reminded me very much of Dr. John Smith, who scored so many goals in the
half-a-dozen Internationals in which he took part against England.
Campbell never waited a second before making his parting shot, and
sometimes the goalkeeper failed to get the ball before it went spinning
through.
~The Final Association Cup Tie of 1889.~
This tie was decided at Hampden Park on the 9th February, 1889, between
the 3rd L.R.V. and Celtic, and ended in favour of the 3rd L.R.V. by two
goals to one. The same clubs, however, had previously met to decide the
contest, but both played under protest in consequence of the weather.
This naturally caused that additional excitement, which culminated at
the final meeting on Hampden Park that Saturday afternoon. The 3rd
L.R.V. had long worked for possession of the coveted prize, and twice it
was within their grasp, for they played and were defeated in the final
ties on two previous occasions--viz., in 1876 by the Queen's Park, who
scored two goals to none, and again in 1878 by the Vale of Leven, who
overcame the warriors by one to none. If ever a team deserved victory in
this event it was the 3rd Lanark Rifle Volunteers. The Celtic were more
than foemen worthy of their steel, and considering the fact that the 3rd
L.R.V. had come through the ties so creditably, and had that season
vanquished the crack English professional combination, the victory was a
most popular one all round. As for the Celtic, they are a young and
powerful club, and can afford to wait a season or so for victory, for
you know "everything comes to those who wait." The crowd was large, the
weather fair, and the enthusiasm great. The Volunteers played with the
wind, and made their first point out of a scrimmage about twenty minutes
from the start, and this was all the scoring in the first round. The
play after this was very even, and the Celts were showing off some grand
combined efforts, but were unfortunate at goal. At length, however, the
Irishmen made a brilliant sally on the Volunteers' stronghold, and Mr.
M'Callum put the ball between the posts. After this the play was so even
that a draw seemed inevitable, and it was only by the determined play of
the Cathkin Park team that at length the Celtic goal was taken for the
second time by Mr. Oswald, junior, who was ably assisted in the
successful run by Messrs. Marshall and Hannah. The Cup--that trophy
which had cost some kind hearts (now silent for ever), an unsatisfied
longing, and a constant anguish of patience--was safe to the old club at
last! I accordingly give the players who took part in the tie, and start
with the 3rd L.R.V.
~Downie (3rd L.R.V.).~
Mr. Downie deserves credit for the manner in which he has kept goal for
the "warriors" during the past two seasons, when his club played and
defeated some of the best in Scotland and England. In this event he had
terrible work to perform, and got through it with much credit. So far as
I can remember--and it is, indeed, no stretch of imagination--the goal
got by Mr. M'Callum could not have been saved by any keeper, as it came
out of a scrimmage from the Celtic man's foot like a rocket. Mr. Downie
is a very neat kicker-out in front, and shows fine judgment with his
hands in clearing the ball away from a crowd of opposing forwards.
~A. Thompson.~
Mr. Thompson is one of the best backs that last season produced, and had
it not been that the two Queen's Park men--Messrs. Arnott and
Smellie--had played together so well, and pleased the Committee of
Selection in most of the best matches, Mr. Thompson would have been in
the great International. As it was, he got the next best position, being
chosen to play against Wales. He is a rare tackler, sometimes a little
rough, but the finest kicker in front of a besieged goal I have ever
seen. Sometimes in the heat of a scrimmage he loses the ball, but has
the knack of recovering himself in an instant.
~J. Rae.~
The Volunteers were remarkably well served with their backs in this tie,
and Mr. Rae made a capital companion to Mr. Thompson. He is scarcely
such an accomplished tackler, but for neat kicking and feeding the
forwards when they are playing an open game, I know none better. He is a
splendid man for judging distances, and if he is certain the ball is
nearer one of his companions than himself, gets close behind and backs
up at once. To see Mr. Rae placing the leather in front of his forwards
in a good match is a treat of no ordinary kind, and it may be mentioned
that he played against Wales last season.
~A. Lochhead.~
The three half-backs in the present tie with which I have to deal were
Messrs, Auld, Lochhead, and M'Farlane. Mr. Lochhead has been long one of
the "shining lights" of the 3rd L.R.V., and while in some respects
inferior to Mr. Auld, has one grand virtue to recommend in a football
player--viz., patience. His perception is keen and decisive, and if he
imagines a daring forward on the other side can be successfully met
without close tackling, he never fails to out-manoeuvre him, and let
the spectators see some rare half-back play. Mr. Lochhead took part in
the Welsh International in the spring.
~Mr. M'Farlane.~
The 3rd L.R.V. were in perfect training condition in the tie, and well
can I remember both Auld and M'Farlane coming in for a large share of
hugging by excited partisans as they made their way up the steps towards
the pavilion of the Queen's Park Club that memorable Saturday afternoon.
Mr. M'Farlane is really a fine all-round player, and this season is
keeping up his form in a way that both astonishes and delights his old
friends. His "heading" in front of goal is very fine, and has saved many
a shot from taking effect.
~J. Oswald, Junior.~
No better pair of dribblers ever served a club than the two
Oswalds--senior and junior--last season, and had more genuine success in
the games in which they played. The forward combination, with these two
men at their best, was decidedly the most powerful in Scotland, and
undoubtedly won the match for the Volunteers against the Celtic. Mr.
Oswald, junior, however, was the better of the two, and the manner in
which he scored the second goal, which gave the Third the victory, was
quite a treat to all who saw the tie that day on Hampden Park.
~J. Oswald, Senior.~
The senior Oswald, as he was called, to distinguish him from his
companion of the same name, played against England in the spring, and
was as good a dribbler, but not so fine a judge of a goalkeeper's
ability to get at the ball when the forwards were crowding round, and
sending in shots thick and fast. The passing among the forwards of the
3rd L.R.V. that day was so good as to defy criticism, if that were
possible, and Oswald, senior, was no exception to the others. The pair,
however, loved the loaves and fishes of England better than the 3rd
L.R.V., and are now "o'er the Border and awa'."
~J. Hannah.~
In some of the best games of the 3rd L.R.V. last season the passing and
following up between Mr. Hannah and Mr. Johnstone were not to be beaten
anywhere for splendid judgment and properly matured forward play. There
are what is known to the player as certain degrees of pluck and
endurance, and while I have in my mind's eye some forwards in other
clubs, including Mr. William Berry, the Queen's Park light-weight, who
must of necessity come under the first, I am inclined to rank Mr. Hannah
among the second. He is, however, a first-rate man.
~W. Johnstone.~
Last in order of forwards, but by no means lacking in genuine ability,
with rare dribbling powers, comes the name of Mr. W. Johnstone. He
played a very steady game all through this tie, and was as fresh as
paint after the whistle sounded the finish. Although not such a
determined tackler as some of the other forwards not only in his own
team, but in the Celtic as well, he is the most earnest worker in the
whole club, and in his probationary days would practice unceasingly to
attain perfection in certain points of the game in which he was
deficient. He played against Wales in 1889, and in 1887 against Ireland.
~J. Kelly (Celtic).~
Although Mr. Kelly is, so to speak, unknown to the game as a goalkeeper,
he promises to become a good man below the bar. The ability of the
Celtic goalkeeper, however, is certainly not equal to the back and
half-back play; and, while Kelly did very well in this match, his duties
were rendered less difficult by the splendid defence shown at back by
Mr. M'Keown, and the grand half-back efforts of Mr. M'Laren. He has
several good points, including the clever fisting-out of the ball, but
is not a strong kicker, and sometimes goes too far away from his
charge.
~P. Gallacher.~
When the Celtic were hard pressed on several occasions, Mr. Gallacher
always fell back on his goal, like the prudent general who covers his
retreat, and no man did more heading and breasting in running the ball
out that day. He wants the judgment of his companion in the same
position, but makes up for it by fearless and unceasing work. He was
hard pressed several times by Marshall and Oswald, sen., and had the
worst of the tackling, but he generally came up smiling, and renewed
hostilities with Spartan bravery.
~M. M'Keown.~
Mr. M'Keown was decidedly the best back on the losing side that day, and
his defence near goal splendid. He is not, however, particularly careful
in his returns, and sometimes kicks over his own lines when hard
pressed, but there can be only one opinion as to his genuine ability in
close tackling--he can do it to perfection. During the game, even
Marshall, who is not afraid of anybody, sometimes steered clear of
M'Keown by passing up the ball to Johnstone instead of keeping
possession to the last. He played against Ireland the same year.
~W. Maley.~
The Celtic had as their three half-backs in the contest under review
Messrs. W. Maley, J. M'Laren, and J. Kelly (the latter of whom has
already been mentioned in a previous article). Mr. W. Maley, if I am not
mistaken, is a young member of a very young club that has made a name
for itself in a couple of seasons. He has, however, a deal to learn
before he can be classed alongside Kelly and M'Laren. He is kind of
slipshod in his mode of tackling, wanting finish, but nevertheless a
dangerous man to meet in a charge.
~J. M'Laren.~
The finest half-back of the Irish combination is undoubtedly Mr. J.
M'Laren, and in this tie his play was really magnificent. When the
Volunteers' forwards again and again got near the Celtic goal, he was
the first to checkmate them, and, not contented to work his own place
successfully, frequently went to the assistance of some of the forwards
when he thought they had more than enough to do. He played for his old
club, the Hibernian, against Wales in 1888, and in 1889 against England
for the Celtic.
~M. Dunbar.~
Mr. Dunbar was one of the most active men in the Celtic forward division
in this match, and showed very good dribbling, but was easily tackled
when getting near goal, and more than once "removed" off the ball by
Auld and Lochhead. He is, however, a steady worker, and most reliable
when backing up. Mr. Dunbar, if I am not mistaken, was at one time a
member of the Cartvale, and played for Scotland against Ireland for that
club in 1886.
~R. M'Callum.~
In his general style of play Mr. M'Callum was not unlike Mr. William
M'Kinnon (Dumbarton), who flourished from 1881 to 1885, and was one of
the best forwards in that county. He was not such a tricky and cunning
tackler, however, but faced up to his man with a confidence that
betokened superiority. He was, like the rest of the Celtic forwards, a
good dribbler, and possessed considerable speed. For a young player he
was also very judicious in passing the ball, and during this contest he
helped to start some of the best runs of the day. He played against
Ireland, at Belfast, in 1888, and is now located in Blackburn, where he
partners Harry Campbell on the right wing of the Rovers.
~W. Groves.~
It was in the final tie for the Scottish Challenge Cup between the
Hibernian and Dumbarton in 1887, which the crack Edinburgh team won by
two goals to one, that brought Mr. Groves into special notice, and it
may be, for aught I know, caused him to be carried off by the Celtic
later on. Like a good many other players, he varies a bit in his style.
Some days he is easily tackled; while at others not a single back or
half-back on the field has a chance with him, and it must be said of him
that he is one of the neatest dribblers of the day. He played against
Wales in 1888.
~J. Coleman.~
Among the forward division of the Celtic, Mr. Coleman was a decided
acquisition, and during that same season scored a lot of goals for the
new Irish combination, which came to the front with something like the
rapidity of "Jonah's gourd." A beautiful dribbler and runner, he made
several grand spurts towards the 3rd L.R.V. goal, but had a weakness for
keeping the ball too long, and was often tackled by the sure feet of Rae
and Thomson. In speed and general play he reminded me very much of Mr.
William Miller (3rd L.R.V.), an International against England as far
back as 1876.
~T. Maley.~
When the whole of the Celts were at their best, and this happened pretty
often last season in their Challenge Cup ties, Mr. T. Maley generally
rose to the occasion, and led his team brilliantly. His steady-going
style is much liked, not only by his colleagues, but spectators, and it
is quite a rare thing to see him grassed by an opponent. When
approaching the goal with the ball, he is like the priest who had a
"wonderful way wid him"--slipping through the backs in a manner that is
sure to make the goalkeeper gnash his teeth, and wish Maley was far
enough away.
_V.--THE PIONEERS OF ASSOCIATION FOOTBALL IN SCOTLAND;_
OR,
_"THE CONQUEROR'S FOOTBALL BOOTS."_
My football boots are getting what might be called shabby genteel now,
and no wonder. If they could speak they would tell you many a strange
episode in the life of an Association football player, and how he kept
his place in a leading club for nearly a dozen years. They have been old
and dear friends, those well-worn boots, and although now somewhat
curled up at the toes, have kicked many a good goal out of a hot and
exciting scrummage in front of an opponent's upright posts, and even in
an International tussle; but now that they, like myself, have retired
from active duty, and may reasonably be supposed not to be encumbered
with existing prejudices, which in the nature of things might more or
less interfere with expressing an honest opinion about the Association
football player of the past or his colleagues and successors, I will
introduce them to you, and in figurative language allow them to tell
their own unvarnished tale. My last advice, however, to you, my old
friends, before leaving you to the tender mercies of a scribbler, is not
to answer all the questions he thinks proper to put. Please don't tell
him what you heard or saw after leaving the football field clinging to
my sole and instep, of my love intrigues, my stolen interviews with
blue-eyed Annie, and when she jilted me and got married to Charlie
Quilter, who played "left wing" in the Flying Blues. Charlie must have
regretted what he did more than once.
The Blues used to play us a couple of games in the year, and not long
before Charlie got married he was, as a matter of course, one of their
eleven. On that occasion I felt nettled to think that a big,
broosy-faced, lisping fellow like Charlie should have "put my eye out,"
and could not resist the temptation of frequently crossing to his side
during the game, and "going" for him. Oh! how my old companions, my
boots, behaved on the occasion--the very laces almost burst with
indignation; but Quilter, poor soul, never gave a winch, and bore it
with becoming fortitude. He has now, like myself, got settled in life (I
am a confirmed bachelor), and we are still the best of friends, for that
"blue-eyed Annie loved him, too," was one of those things I could never
forget. It is too bad, however, in me to block the way with this
dissertation, and not allow Mr. Boots to begin. I shall leave the rest
to him with confidence.
Well, once upon a time (began Mr. Boots), I was a combination of
circumstances. That is to say, I went through many processes even before
I became mature leather, and one afternoon I was brought to a small
shoemaker's shop in Crosshill tied up in a bundle. There were lots of
cuttings in that bundle--butt, ben, wrapper, cordivan, kid, calf-skin,
and even sheep-skin--but I was then a shapeless piece of wrapper, kipp,
and calf-skin. When I was trysted there were few, if any, football boots
made, and the old man who was entrusted with my construction was a
strange old "cove." He could make a pair of ordinary boots with any one,
but was not so sure about me. I was ordered by a genteel, nice-looking
lad, with red cheeks and clear black eyes. He addressed the
representative of St. Crispin in a musical voice, but I then formed an
opinion of my future master, that he would be a little conceited and
arrogant at times, and this has proved correct. The instructions about
covering my soles with bars was specially impressed on the old man's
memory, and every detail was carried out to the letter. When we were
completed, my brother and I, you would have admired us. If it were
possible to have anything handsome in the boot line, except, perhaps, a
tiny, fur-lined lady's slipper, it was us. We were sewed with
substantial rosen-end, the division between the inseam and soles was
filled up with real leather skivings, and not the trashy "jump" which
makes up the bulk of the soles of football boots nowadays. The more, in
fact, I think of it, the more I am convinced that the present make of
football boots is a new-fangled device in the shoemaking trade, for are
they not now got up of American leather, brass nails, and other
abominations, free of import duty! My master, I remember, came for me
(please consider that I am also representing my brother, for, like the
Siamese twins, the one can do nothing without the other) on a Saturday.
He told the old man that he was going to play a match with the Leven
Crowers that very afternoon, and must have me. I was barely finished,
but Tate's son got the bars put on all right, and I was handed over to
the tender mercies of my new master. He was quite delighted with my
appearance, and looked with pride, and even satisfaction, on my
well-polished uppers and wrapper soles. There was even a half-'un going
at the paying.
The Leven Crowers were a young and powerful club, possessing more speed
in running than any real football ability at the time. The club to which
my master belonged was the first to introduce the new ideas in the game,
as they were then called, in Scottish soil, and as there were only three
clubs in existence at the time of which I am referring, the contests, as
a matter of course, were few and far between, and, consequently, looked
forward to with more than ordinary pleasure. The other two clubs were
the Greenvale and the Kilback, but they were not of much account (so my
master had often said, and he was supposed to be a good judge). I heard
him say the Conquerors had "licked" these clubs over and over again, and
that they weren't in the same street. When I was being laced up,
however, for the fray that afternoon in the old toll-house on the road
to Battlefield (the Conquerors had no such modern requisite as a
pavilion then), I heard Bob Gardens express quite a different opinion
about the Greenvale, and even go the length of saying that they had a
draw with them on the previous evening after a hard fight. This
demonstrated a fact that was useful to me in my subsequent career, viz.,
never to credit what other folks (especially football players) said
about the ability of opponents in the heat of a tussle. Talking about
the Leven Crowers, they were not to be despised. Although the haughty
Conquerors had given them their first lesson in Association football,
they were fast coming up on them in some of the points of the game. I
heard my owner say that the first lesson was given at Alexandria, and on
that occasion the Crowers, who were then crack shinty players, arranged
themselves in the field as if for a match at that ancient Scottish game.
That they had not forgotten their first game with the Conquerors was
amply illustrated in the present, which, I might again repeat, was my
first outset in public life. I was stiff at first, and pressed my
master's instep rather hard shortly after the kick-off. The contest was
played on the Recreation Ground, and was witnessed by very few
spectators. True, there were certainly many choice spirits residing near
the spot, who came out to see us and enjoy a quiet outing, and have a
friendly crack.
Little did these club companions imagine that that small but
enthusiastic gathering of spectators was the harbinger of crowds
composed of thousands of excited spectators who now assemble to witness
big Association matches every Saturday, not only to see the Conquerors,
but other clubs, very slightly removed from them in ability, playing
"Cup ties." The Crowers' forwards showed great pace, and one of them,
Will Cumming, repeatedly got past me, despite the smart manoeuvring of
my master. Will, however, was somewhat wild in his dribbling, and could
not keep the ball close enough to his toes. Jim Wild was my master's
backer up on the occasion, and as Jim was decidedly the finest dribbler
that ever toed a ball, and kept his place for ten years against all
comers, afterwards the pair managed to intercept Cumming before he got
close enough on goal to make a shot. The Crowers' goalkeeper was a good
one, and could clear his place of defence with great ability, but the
backs were not of much account. Pate M'Wherry and Luke M'Tavish did the
work at half-back, but their kicking was somewhat feeble when compared
with those of the Conquerors, Tom James and Willie Keith. The Conquerors
were far too anxious to score, and for some time kept up a close
cannonade at their opponents' goal without effect. Bob Prentice used his
hands cleverly, and, though the goal was again and again endangered, not
one of the forwards on my master's side could get the ball under the
tape. A fine run was made by Wild, Lucky, Grind, Short, and my master,
and the ball brought up to within a few feet of the Crowers' goal, but
at the last second, Johnny Forrester, one of their centre forwards,
kicked it behind. This gave the Conquerors the corner flag-kick. My
master, who was quite an adept at corner flag-kicks, was sent to the
spot, and placed the ball in a good position, but Bob Prentice got it up
in his hands at a critical moment, and threw it clear. Good runs were
eventually made on both sides, and once the Crowers nearly lowered our
colours, but nothing was got by either, and the game was drawn. In those
days the rules observed were somewhat different from those in vogue now.
The game was far prettier. There was none of that heading which forms
such important factors in the style of modern playing. When the ball was
thrown in from the touch-line the rule insisted that it had first to
land on the ground before being touched, and consequently head play was
unnecessary, and dribbling was, as a matter of course, considered the
most important point, combined with taking smart possession of the ball
as soon as it touched the ground after being thrown in. My master was
smart at getting on the leather, and, next to Jim Wild, he was the most
accomplished dribbler in the Conquerors. If there is anyone capable of
telling what he could do, 'tis I. How he used to keep my toes in a
circle as he left the grass behind his heels, piloting the ball past the
opposing backs, I know to my loss, and a very great depreciation in tear
and wear. He was a veritable "dodger," this owner of mine. Never afraid
of a charge, he would, in order either to secure the ball or keep it,
attack the biggest man in an opposing team, aye, and knock him over,
too. Sometimes he lost his temper when things went against him, and,
while his remarks to an adversary were somewhat cutting and at times
verging on impertinence, they were always within the scope of
"Parliamentary." In after life, however, my master found several foemen
worthy of his steel amongst backs and half-backs in the Flying Blues,
the Crowers, the Cedargrove, Red Cross, and North Western, and he
sometimes came off second best.
It is all very well to say that there were "great men in those days." So
there were, but the same remark can be made equally applicable now, for
they are even more common, and you find them scattered over the length
and breadth of the land. It would decidedly weary you, my friend and
reader, were I to detail all the games in which I have taken an active
part, and you will at once admit that I may succeed in pleasing you
better if I give a short sketch of the leading clubs and players who
have wrought so hard and done so much to make the Association game so
popular. Jim Wild has been mentioned in connection with his club (the
Conquerors), but it is necessary to give him a line or two more. There
was no other Association club in Scotland when the Conquerors were put
into ship-shape order, and consequently no opponents to play. They could
not challenge themselves to mortal combat, and there were none but Rugby
clubs, whose members treated the new order of things in football as
childish amusement, and unworthy of free-born Britons. "Give us," they
said, "the exciting runs, the glorious tackling, the manly maul, and the
beautiful dropped goal, and we will meet you a bit of the way, but not
otherwise. We don't believe in loafing about the field at times, when
only one or two of the side are engaged; we want to be active." "Well,"
said the Conquerors (one of whom had been offered a place in the Twenty
in the Rugby match between Glasgow and Edinburgh), "you don't know
Association rules, or you would never make such absurd assertions about
the new game. If there is really any inactivity in football while being
played, that inaction is clearly shown in a Rugby maul, where the one
half of the side are merely spectators. Besides, your game is only half
football; in fact, a combination of football and handball knocked into
one. Your run with the ball under the arm is only a display of speed; it
has nothing whatever to do with football. We want the grand dribbling
run with the ball at the toe, the smart passing and middling of the
Association, and we will enjoy it." Such good-natured banter went on at
first between two opposing interests, but by and by the difference
culminated into something more.
As a sort of _quid pro quo_ for the courtesy extended to an Association
player by the Rugby contingent in the Inter-city match, Tom Chaloner,
the very _beau ideal_ of a Rugby player, was asked, and promised to play
in the first International Association match at Partick in 1872. Tom
even came out to the Recreation Ground at Crosshill, and practised with
the Conquerors as goalkeeper, and promised well in that position, but
through some cause or other he did not play when the eventful day came.
If ever a man could handle a ball and kick a goal as a quarter-back in a
Rugby game, it was Chaloner. He was the pride of all the Rugby clubs in
the country side, and was as well, indeed, if not better known in his
brilliant career as a cricketer. Who in Scotland could bat like Tom? He
was not a hitter to a particular side of the wickets; all was alike to
him. He could cut, drive, hit to long and square-leg, and oh! how far!
He would have made a grand Association football player, but he preferred
to stick to the Rugby style, and was equally successful, at least to his
club's satisfaction. The first match between England and Scotland at
Partick, nineteen years ago (which, by the way, is worthy of note, was
played by members of the Queen's Park exclusively), did a great deal to
spread Association rules in Glasgow and district, and, in fact,
eventually all over Scotland. Hitherto there used to be a couple of
months of interval between the end of the Rugby football season and the
starting of athletics and cricket, lasting from March till May, and as
the football players of the old dispensation were still in trim, but
with exhausted fixtures, not a few of them, belonging to two of the
leading clubs, did not consider it _infra dig._ to have a "go" at the new
rules, "just to see how they could stand it."
The outcome of this hastily-formed notion was that a sort of Nomadic
team, calling themselves the Western Pilgrims, was formed, and three or
four matches, and good ones, too, were played between them and the
Conquerors and also the Cedargrove. The Pilgrims showed themselves no
mean opponents in the new game, and, after holding their own with the
Cedargrove in a drawn game, had a good tussle with the Conquerors on the
recreation ground at the Park, and were only beaten by a goal to none,
the goal, I remember, being made in the last five minutes by Bob Gardens
(who could dribble and play forward as well as keep goal). A few of the
Pilgrims took kindly to the Association rules, and while that season
lasted two of the leading forwards joined the Cedargrove, and turned out
capital players. Another joined the Druids, and became a famous
goalkeeper, even going as far as playing for his country in the
International match, and the fourth turned out a leading man in the
Holyrood Crescent. Talking about the above goalkeeper, Aleck M'Gregor
was one of the finest fellows that ever stood with his back to a goal.
There was the cheerful disposition, the gentlemanly demeanour to
opponents or associates whenever he appeared on the field. His knowledge
of the Rugby game made him a most useful man at goal, where the keeper
of that charge is the only man under Association rules who is allowed to
touch the ball with his hands. With the ordinary goalkeeper the punt-out
kick, when dexterously executed, was considered the most effective mode
of saving the ball from going under the tape, when the use of the hands
to knock it out was not deemed necessary, but Aleck preferred the
drop-kick, which is one of the redeeming features in the Rugby style of
play, and this he could do almost to perfection. I have seen him (for I
have, by-the-bye, taken part against him in several matches) lift a ball
after it had come pretty smartly from my right toe, and dropping it on
the ground before him, kick it as it rose, bounding away over the heads
of the Conquerors' forwards as they besieged the goal like a hive of
bees on a June morning. He had decidedly the advantage over the modern
"punter," inasmuch that the leather was always sure to go higher out of
reach when the place of defence was besieged, and farther out of the way
of lurking backs and half-backs, who, as a matter of course, crowd down
behind the forwards when an attack is made on an opponent's stronghold.
There were other instances which came to my knowledge (that is, if my
reader can imagine anything so queer as a pair of boots possessing such
an immensely human gift) of converts from Rugby to Association style of
play, or rather perverts, as they were designated, but enough has been
said to show how Association football gained a hold on the young and
rising generation, and how it spread all over the western and
north-western portion of the country, and, like the proverbial Eastern
magician's wand, caused goal-posts and corner-flags to spring up in
every village and hamlet with remarkable rapidity. Close to the shores
of several Highland lochs, where a big kick by a stalwart half-back
endangers the ball being swept away by the tide, one can see the game
played of an evening by the village youth with great earnestness of
purpose. By and by the new rules made remarkable progress, and as the
public liked the game, and deserted the Rugby matches to see what they
considered the most easily understood rules, the breach between the
rival contingents widened, and eventually the Jews had no dealings with
the Gentiles, and so they both continue playing the games they consider
the best.
What changes have taken place in clubs and players during the last few
years! Faces, blithe, happy faces, now gone forever, can be remembered
by the old spectators, although the present scarcely ever heard their
names; but I will not go very far back. Poor Dixy (for he is dead
now)--well can I remember his first introduction to the Conquerors. My
master had been indulging, in company with Bob Gardens, Jim Wild, Willie
Keith, and others, in a punt about on the evening preceding a match with
the Red Cross, and, after shaking hands and passing the usual
compliments, the practice game was started, and in it the newcomer
showed well, and kicked cleverly with both feet. He was, however, just a
shade too slow, and I frequently tackled him, and secured the leather,
giving it a deal of "toe" after passing close in on goal. The club were
badly off for a goal-keeper after Willie Keith left for America, and, as
John was not backward in making a display of his ability, he offered to
act as goal-keeper. It would take too long to recount the games in which
he and I were engaged in the subsequent career of the Conquerors, but an
incident or two will not be considered out of place. If Dixy had one
weakness more than another it consisted in a lively sense of his own
importance as a crack goalkeeper, and the supposed invincible qualities
of his club, which he often declared could not be beaten. He improved
wonderfully in his new position, and, while playing some of the junior
clubs, which were by this time beginning to spring up, it was positively
amusing to see how John would advance quietly from his goal when it was
besieged, and punt the ball contemptuously away with quite a crowd of
young ones close up, awe-stricken at the agility shown by such a bulky
form.
A few of the Red Cross and Cedargrove forwards sometimes gave him a
fright, and in one match with the Leven Crowers he was fairly outwitted
by Boyd and Ned M'Donald in a cup tie. I fought hard in that memorable
battle myself, and never got such a saturation with water and mud in my
career; but we were beaten. I will not easily forget Dixy as he came to
the field on that occasion, carrying his umbrella to the goal-posts, and
laying it against the left one. He, poor fellow, expected his club would
have an easy victory, and this belief was shared in by not a few of the
eleven besides, including my master, who had, by the way, emerged into a
centre forward since the last match with the Kilmarackers, and as a
consequence he gave me a deal of extra work as a backer-up to Mat.
Angus. In fact, not long after I was carefully laced and ready for the
fray that wet afternoon, the Conqueror's eleven had a confab about the
tactics they should pursue, and Joe Sayler, our captain (who is now no
more, and lost to his club for ever), remarked it would take them all
their time to beat the Crowers. He had, I could see by his anxious
looks, grave doubts on the issue. At the outset of the game the rain
poured down in torrents, and as most of the play was on the Crowers'
portion of the field, the umbrella was put up, amid the laughter of the
partisans of John's contingent and the pent-up indignation of the
followers of the Crowers, who mustered strong on the occasion, and
demonstrated a strength of lungs truly astonishing. John, by and by,
when the battle became hot, had to discard his old friend and comforter,
and work in front of his fortress in a way that he had never done
before, and when the terrible tussle ended, the Conquerors were beaten
by two goals to one. When chaffed on the "umbrella incident" ever
afterwards Dixy was silent, and declared that in using it he did not
hold his opponents too cheaply, but simply with a desire to save himself
from a ducking. John was also a capital oarsman, and when he was
suddenly cut away in the pride of his manhood, he was barely 30 years of
age. He was greatly lamented, and his handsome figure is missed from the
football field.
John's death reminds me of a young and promising forward named Smith,
who used to play on the left wing of the Cedargrove in company with a
smart companion named Seward. Young Smith was a very enthusiastic
football player, and missed few, if any, practice games. Poor lad, I met
him twice in one season in matches with the Cedargrove, and it took all
my master knew to prevent him from getting clean past the Conquerors'
backs and scoring. He was a nice dribbler, and like Fred Adamson (an old
member of the same club), went straight ahead with a splendid hold of
the leather. Talking about Fred, I remember that player, in company with
Johnny M'Phedran and James Wilton, going for big Thomas, who was then
the Conquerors' captain, and played at half-back. Thomas was an awful
fellow to meet in a charge, and a hundred to one was sure to send his
opponent to grass. Johnny, however, who was a little bandy-legged, held
tenaciously to the ball, and while Thomas was eagerly watching his
opportunity, Fred sent him flat on his back, and the ball was close on
goal in an instant. There was a hard scrummage, and in the nick of time,
Joe Sayler (who was then the crack sprinter of the Conquerors), dashed
up and got the ball clear before it reached the keeper. Poor Smith, he
caught a severe cold one evening, and eventually succumbed to a painful
malady. The Cedargrove were at one time hard to beat. In fact, in the
early history of the Scottish Football Association Challenge Cup, they
pressed my master's club hard for the trophy, and were only
vanquished--after three games--by one goal to none.
The Red Cross were also dangerous opponents, and possessed not a few
capital players. There were John Huxter, Sandy Kenneth, Jack Williams,
Joe Drummond, and Bill Millins. They were not easily beaten. Sandy
Kenneth, though rather a quiet-looking customer to meet in the street,
developed into one of the finest half-backs that Scotland ever produced.
He was always cool and collected, and, although by no means a very hard
kicker, could judge the ball to a hair-breadth. Sandy was especially
clever in tackling, which he could manage without deliberate charging.
If the ball got up close on the goal which he defended, he would follow
the dribblers, and with a clever manoeuvre on the left foot, obtain
possession, and after nursing the ball for a few minutes, would, amid
the applause of the spectators, send it spinning down the field. Then
there was Bill Summons. He was rather a volatile customer, and a perfect
football coquette. There was scarcely a club of any pretensions in
Glasgow but what Bill had wooed. He, however, stuck well to the Red
Cross, and did some splendid service in their best matches, but
eventually left them and joined the Conquerors, who, by the way, were
just a shade too ready to take over the best men of other clubs by
holding out tempting baits in the shape of big matches. Bill, with all
his faults, was a grand back, and I question if anybody in Glasgow could
make a finer kick when he set his mind to it. He had his failing, to be
sure, and who hasn't? He was sometimes most erratic while playing
important matches, and, especially on a windy day, would make grave
mistakes with too heavy kicking.
Jack Huxter, too, of the Red Cross, was a very fine player, and a
"caution" to get past at back (poor fellow, he, too, like Dixy, has gone
to his account). He was a dangerous man to meet in the heat of a tussle
near the goal-line, and woe betide the daring forward who would attempt
to take the ball from Jack there. His only weakness was a frequent
desire to "go" for the man instead of the ball, and charging rather
heavily. Although a back, he was by no means an inferior dribbler, and
possessing good speed, sometimes astonished the members of his own club
by the smart runs he would now and again make in company with the
forwards when the leather was in an opponents' territory. He stuck like
a veritable leech to the Red Cross, and turned out most faithfully to
all their important matches. I must not forget Willie Millins, who was
one of the neatest dribblers of his day. He has given up football now.
Getting a clear start, many an exciting and clever run he made for the
Red Cross. I heard my master say that in a match for the Association Cup
between his club and the Cedargrove, he once made a goal after dribbling
the ball almost the entire length of the field.
Then there was a lot of smaller fry, including good players belonging to
the Dumbrook, North-Eastern, Gallowgate Rovers, the Locomotive Slashers,
Thornians, Northern Jumpers, Edinburgh Irishmen, Partick Unfortunates,
and last, though by no means least, the Flying Blues. There was no club
in Scotland, except, perhaps, the Vale Crowers, that had made so much
progress in the game as those Flying Blues, and few, if any, were gifted
with the same amount of self-confidence. The Blues, nevertheless, had
good reason to feel proud of some of their members, for they were young
and active, and the very ideal of smart football players. It was a lucky
thing for them when they migrated from the north and established
themselves in the old ground vacated by the Cedargrove. Had it not been
for that lucky arrangement, they might have wasted their football lives
in obscurity, and gone down to Association posterity "unhonoured and
unsung." Their success was as remarkable as it was swift and decisive.
Possessing any amount of pluck, they tackled all and sundry in the
district, and the second year, after gaining something like a
first-class reputation, won nearly every game they played. Their
captain, Tom Vincent, was a grand back, and, indeed, one of the crack
men in that position, of whom Scotland has now so many to select from;
and then there was Bentback, Bill Donoup, Jack Drummer, and Mat Neil,
all fine players at their respective positions. Never shall I forget the
match between the Blues and the Conquerors for the Association Cup a
dozen years ago, about the last big match in which I took an active
part. My master's team had had bad luck though, for after pressing the
Flying Blues till within a few minutes of the game, the Blues beat the
Conquerors by one goal to none, Bill Donoup sending the ball under goal
at the last minute, although the story goes that he had a bet of a
"sov." that the Conquerors would win, and it was even admitted that he
was heard to say, when kicking the goal, "Here goes my blooming
sovereign!"
Although now stowed away in the corner of a large chest, side by side
with jerseys, caps, knickerbockers, and other football requisites, as a
remnant of the glorious game, my master sometimes visits me to think
over the past, and I often hear him say that, although he does not play
now, he still goes to see some of the leading contests, and at them
picks up many queer stories of the modern players. Last year's crack
men, as he sees them crowding in his "mind's eye," are not, he says,
unworthy representatives of those of the past.
_VI.--HOW CLUBS WERE STARTED LONG AGO._
When the summer game of cricket was far more extensively played in
Glasgow and District than it is now, those who understood the feelings
and aspirations of young men engaged in it repeatedly considered the
question in all its aspects, and a combination of circumstances have
occurred within the last decade which had seriously affected that game.
The City of Glasgow could not, of course, afford to remain in a
stationary condition to suit the convenience of a few thousands of
cricketers. New streets had to be formed, new houses built all round,
and with this advance upon civilisation came the deadly blow to
cricket--at least juvenile cricket--and those clubs soon disappeared
from the field. Ground after ground was swallowed up, and on the scene
of many a hot and exciting match blocks of houses, railway stations,
churches, and public works may now be seen. The Scotch youth, and for
that part of it (just to give the sentence greater weight), the British
youth, loves some kind of manly sport. Cricket he could no longer play
for want of good and level ground, but then there was another game
which, at least, could be played or learned under easy circumstances,
even on a quiet street or big "free coup," and that was Association
football. They soon took to it kindly, and many of them struggled hard
and procured a ground. Not one, of course, like that on which they used
to have their cricket matches long ago, but one on which Farmer Lyon
grazed his cows and sheep, and they had it for a trifle. What did they
care about ridges and furrows, or that it was a difficult matter to see
the lower goal-posts when you were at the east end? Not a straw. The
only matter which annoyed them (and this only happened occasionally) was
Lyon's bull. Their club colours were red jerseys, with a small white
stripe, and "Jock" (that was the animal's name), used to scatter the
lads about on the Friday evenings when they were engaged in a big side.
The players generally managed to clear out in time, but the infuriated
animal once goared the best ball the club had, and next morning, as they
had to play the "Invincible" of Glasgow Green, a subscription had to be
raised for a new one. Football can thus be played under much more
favourable conditions than cricket, or almost any other out-door game,
at less expense, and this, in a great measure at least, is the secret of
its popularity amongst the masses. It can also be played under nearly
every condition of the atmosphere. Nothing seems to frighten the Scotch
Association football player. Rain, hail, snow, and even frost, is
treated with cool indifference. In England the ball is quietly laid
aside with the advent of April and forgotten till the Autumn leaves are
yellow and sear, but in Scotland Association football seems to have no
recognised season at all, so far as the younger clubs and even a few of
the seniors are concerned. With the sun making one's hair stick to his
head with perspiration, and the thermometer at 90 degrees in the shade,
they play away in the summer-time, and at Christmas attempt to dribble
in half-a-foot of snow. Meantime the question about football being
blotted out can, I think, be easily answered in the negative, and upon
these will depend the future prospect of Association Football in
Scotland. There are, in fact, "breakers ahead," and a strong and
determined hand will have to take the wheel. The greatest of these is
the "professional" football player, and the next the "greed of
gate-money." "O! we never heard of a professional football player in
Scotland," exclaims a chorus of voices; "there is no such thing. It's
only in England." My remark, of course, is only beginning to be
realised. The definition of professional in athletics "is one who runs
(plays) for gain." Everybody knows what that means. If you receive any
money whatever, directly or indirectly, from your club (except out of
the private purses of the members), you are a professional. Are there
not clubs, with great reputations, who have such members? If these are
allowed to continue on the club books simply because they are good
players, the committee are doing a great injustice to the other members,
it may be under a mistaken notion. Now, as football has always been
looked upon as a purely amateur game, and played by young men for their
own amusement, it is to be hoped that the day is far distant when the
professional football player, or even worse, the professional football
"loafer," who does not work, but preys upon his fellow-members, will
appear in a general form. In all conscience, if the public wish to see
professional football (and I know from experience they don't), what
would they think of the All-Scotland Eleven against the Champion Eleven
of England? That might sound all right, but with the recollection of how
professional athletics of all kinds (with the remarkable exception of
cricket) are now conducted, and their low associations, woe betide
football when the professional element is introduced. It will assuredly
be the signal for its decline and fall. As for the greed of gate-money,
of which some clubs are so fond, much might be said. When I refer to the
clubs who try to gather as much cash as they can during the season in
order to pay their legitimate obligations and meet the heavy item of
ground rent, I show up an honourable example, and one worthy of
imitation; but when I hear of clubs who have gathered ten, yea twenty
times more than is required for such purposes, and even get handsome
donations besides from their patrons, deep in debt at the end of the
season, I begin to wonder where all the money has gone. I ask a young
gentleman who has only lately become a member, and he tells me he knows
nothing about the finance committee, but throws out grave hints about
sordid motives and bare-faced applications for pecuniary assistance. In
this respect clubs must be above suspicion, if they want the delightful
game to hold its own and prosper. As a _quid pro quo_ for this vicious
practice, however, there is no game whose players are so charitable as
those connected with Association Football. There is not a club in the
Association that is not ready to play a "Charity Match," and far more
has been given to the funds of charitable institutions by the actions of
Association football clubs than all the other games in Scotland put
together.
_VII.--THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL;_
OR,
_NED DUNCAN'S DREAM._
~Scotland v. America, 1901.~
While on holidays, enjoying myself at a quiet and beautiful sea-side
village on the shores of the Firth of Clyde, I received a note from a
friend reminding me that an old football chum was still on the sick
list, and making little or no progress towards recovery. In fact, his
life, which had recently been enfeebled by an incurable malady, was
slowly but surely drawing to a close. Last time I saw him he referred to
the fact that he had some MS. which he wished Mr. John M'Dowall, his
successor in the secretaryship of the S.F.A., and myself, to read over,
and when this came into my mind I resolved to repair to Glasgow at once,
ere it might be too late.
It was just as well that I did, for poor Ned Duncan was fast sinking
when I got permission from his widowed mother to visit the bedside. Ned,
I may mention, was one of the most enthusiastic players of his day that
ever kicked a ball, but was obliged to give up practice in consequence
of the unfortunate circumstances I have just mentioned, and of late had
only been a spectator at the leading games. He received me that evening
with a kind smile of recognition, and his pale face beckoned me to come
near. I was certainly much touched with my old friend's appearance, and
tried as much as possible to cheer him, but it was of no use.
He said he knew he was going to the silent land. The doctor, in fact,
had told him he had only a few days to live, and he was glad I had come
to bid him farewell, and take over some straggling notes he had compiled
last summer about the football of the future. "Going home one evening,"
he continued, "after an International match, I fell into a deep sleep,
and had a remarkable dream. I thought I saw a great match between
Scotland and America. Real genuine players glided past, scrimmaging with
each other for the ball; thousands of spectators, new and beautiful
youthful faces, graced the area allotted to spectators; the hum of
thousands of excited voices greeted my ears, and"----Here poor Ned's
voice failed.
After a few minutes repose, the old player gasped, "But what need I tell
you more. Here is the MS., and make what use of it you like."
My dear old friend is now under the turf he loved so well to play on
when in the zenith of his fame.
Having eventually opened the packet, the first sentence which met my
eyes was "Ned Duncan's Dream; or, The Great International of 1901."
I will, therefore, leave poor Ned to tell his own tale, and what he saw
in his vision, which at any rate has the merit of originality about it.
As more extraordinary dreams have come to pass, there is no saying what
the beginning of the twentieth century may bring forth, for
International football matches with Australia, America, and Canada have
been talked of, and some of them even played, during the past year or
two, and may become accomplished facts.
I must, however, return to the MS., which reads after the following
style:--
"It was in April, 1901, on a Saturday afternoon, that the Yankees came
to Scotland to play a match with our crack Eleven. The Universal Postal
Service, which scattered letters all over the world at the rate of one
half-penny per ounce, conveyed a formal challenge from the Americans to
Scotland that the Yankees would be delighted to meet an eleven of that
country in an even game of football. The New World men of course meant
business, and our secretary, who was a capital fellow, much liked by the
Scottish Football Association for his kind and obliging disposition, was
instructed to accept the challenge and welcome the strangers to Glasgow.
"Previous to the time I speak of, the Americans had beaten the
Australians and Canadians, and were considered by their own friends
invincible even to the extent of a couple of goals. The Canadians, by
the aid of the Electric Express Line's fast steamers, had been able to
leave Montreal in the morning and return in the evening from New York,
defeated but not disgraced. The Australians were a little longer on the
way, as the improved appliances for driving ships had not yet attained
that perfection there which had been shown in most of the ports and
rivers of the British Isles. They were experimenting, however, and some
good in that direction was looked for daily, and a new Express Company
floated. The Americans had also beaten the Englishmen the previous year
at New York, and, as their own newspapers had it, 'came over to crow in
the Land o' Cakes.' The great shipping trade of the Clyde ere this was,
so to speak, causing a new order of things to arise all over the world.
Large and beautifully-built steel and bronze vessels left the Clyde
every day for all parts of the earth.
"They had annihilated space and bridged the Atlantic in earnest, and the
'electrics' (once called steamers) could go from Glasgow to New York in
little over twenty-four hours. Yes. 'Daily to New York, Montreal,
California, and New Mexico. Splendid accommodation for first-class
passengers: 120 knots per hour, and no vibration.' So read the
advertisement in the leading Glasgow newspapers. Why! what did it all
mean? One hundred knots per hour--3000 in twenty-four hours! To New York
in a day! I had certainly heard of the swallow taking an early breakfast
at the uttermost part of England and picking up a late dinner on the
shores of Africa, all in one day; but 120 knots an hour with an
'electric,'--it was just enough for flesh and blood to comprehend at
once.
"'Well,' said a friend of mine with some experience in the marine
engineering line, 'I have long thought on electricity as the great
motive power of the future, provided it could be properly stored, and
now you see what it has come to.'
"In fact, our coal supply--one of the sources of Britain's
greatness--was getting exhausted, and electrical appliances had become
an absolute necessity. The strain could no longer be borne of one huge
vessel consuming 500 tons of coal in twenty-four hours, and those
blessed electrics were not introduced a moment too soon.
"The learned men of France, who had long been working earnestly to solve
the problem of electric economy, were beaten in the race, and a perfect
system of stored electricity introduced and successfully applied to the
propulsion of ships, patented by Professor Scotland Thomson, nephew of
the late Sir William Thomson, of blessed memory.
"Lots of other remarkable events had been occurring in our history, but
none so marked as the introduction of the 'electrics.' The people of
Scotland had very nearly lost their individuality. Old Caledonia was to
be simply a name. Englishmen invaded Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dundee, and
even _Ultima Thule_, and overran the country with their ideas of social
life. They made slow progress at first, but came in hordes, and the
invasion was irresistible. They, of course, introduced all their
newfangled ideas about games and pastimes, and compelled us to submit.
"Parliament had got so mixed up and thoroughly disgusted with the
question of Irish Home Rule, which cropped up every session, that in an
evil mood it had threatened puir all Scotland with assimilation of the
Law of Jurisprudence, but failed. King Albert the First, however, had,
out of respect to the great city of Glasgow--the Second City in the
Empire--created his third son Duke of Glasgow, for you must know the
House of Peers was still extant, but greatly reformed and limited in
power. It could only veto a law passed by the Commons once, and there
was no more about the matter.
"The match, you may be sure, was the general topic of conversation all
over Scotland several weeks before it came off, and on the Friday
evening, when the Americans arrived and put up at the Express Hotel,
Glasgow, the excitement was great. The preparations and arrangements for
the struggle were on a grand scale, and good weather alone was wanting
to make it a success. That evening several of the Scotch team strolled
into the billiard-room of the Express Hotel to welcome the young
Americans, and had a chat with them about football in general, and the
spread of the rules all over the world.
"The eventful day at last dawned, and a finer April morning could not
have been desired. Play was announced to begin at 3.30 p.m., and long
before that time Bruce Park, Cathcart Road, was half-filled with
spectators, and presented a fine sight.
"The crowd around the field was certainly the most remarkable that had
ever gathered together in Glasgow. As the game was no ordinary one, they
flocked from all quarters. Most of the towns in Scotland supplied their
quota to swell the multitude, and as railway travelling was cheap and
convenient now compared to the original football days of the Queen's
Park, Clydesdale, Vale of Leven, Rangers, Dumbarton, Granville, 3rd
Lanark Volunteers, Partick, Clyde, Alexandra Athletic (of which poor
Duncan was hon. secy.), and a host of other clubs, a two-hundred-mile
journey, which was easily accomplished in an hour, was considered next
to nothing. They were there--young men and maidens from London,
Manchester, Liverpool, Edinburgh, Blackburn, Darwen, Bolton, and
Sheffield--all bent on making a day of it. The road to Bruce Park,
indeed, was a sight to see, despite the fact that the Cathcart Railway
carried its thousands that afternoon to the south-side. There were not a
few buxom country girls in the crowd, enticed thither by no great love
of the game--which, of course, they did not understand--but by their
sweethearts, just to let the young persons of the place see that they
had lads as well as their neighbours. There was one winsome lassie among
them, however, who would have done credit to Burns' incomparable 'Queen
o' the Glen.'
"Emma was the only sister of a young farmer in the district. It is a
mistaken notion to suppose that farmers in Scotland are by far too
plodding a class to indulge themselves in anything savouring of English
games and pastimes, particularly football, but this is a mistake. I know
several farmers in the country who love the dribbling game dearly, and
do their best to promote its interests in the way of supplying ground to
not a few young clubs dotted over the country. In fact, Emma was the
beauty of the whole parish, and all the young men for miles around were
well aware of it. No one could deny it, and even the most unreasonable
of fellows, Charley M'Gowan, the schoolmaster, and Alfred Walker, the
lawyer's clerk, were forced to acknowledge it.
"'Talk about Sydney's heavenly Geraldine,' said young M'Gowan to me one
afternoon on the road to practice, 'she beats her hollow.' M'Gowan,
however, was a bit of a cynic, and Emma soon cast him off for Walker. He
was a fine singer, and in after years, when he became a confirmed
bachelor, delighted to sing songs about the inconstancy of the fair sex.
He used to hum out Goethe's 'Vanatos,' and more particularly that
verse with reference to the fickle fair ones, which ran
"'I set my heart upon woman next--
Hurrah!
For her sweet sake was oft perplexed;
But ah!
The false one looked for a daintier lot--
The constant one wearied me out and out--
The best was not easily got.'
The Yankees, however, had a high opinion of our feminine beauty, and the
impressions made on the gallant youths that Saturday afternoon were of
the most favourable order. The Romans, in fact, were not more captivated
with the beauty of the Sabean maidens than were the young Americans with
the lovely Scottish girls who gave them such a hearty reception at Bruce
Park in April, 1901.
"Walt Vanderbilt, their captain, was a fine-looking young fellow, about
25 years of age. Ere this the young Americans had completely discarded
whiskers, and Walt formed no exception to the rule, with his
closely-shaven cheeks and well-formed moustache. Good work in the field
in the way of practice had made Walt's form show complete development,
and I am inclined to think that a finer specimen of a football player
never toed a ball. The goalkeeper of the team, too, young Lincoln, was
rather a nice-looking fellow, nearly six feet high, and
well-proportioned, with eyes sparkling with humour, but he lacked the
fine open countenance of his captain.
"The other members of the team were much of the ordinary type of
humanity, just like our average football club men, with any amount of
nerve and energy. If they felt excited at the magnitude of the work they
had in hand they concealed it well, and looked as if they were merely
entering the field to do a little practice. They wore the sign of the
American eagle, dotted over with the emblematical stars and stripes. Our
fellows had also an imposing appearance, with the lion-rampant on their
jerseys, and, although looking rather douce and uncertain about the
game, determination was depicted on every face.
"The names of the gentlemen who entered the field were as under:--
"_Scotland._--F. Wallace (South-Side Swifts), goalkeeper; T. Glen
(Queen's Park), D. Smollet (Vale of Leven), backs; W. M'Millan
(Dumbarton), F. M'Neil (Rangers), half-backs; K. M'Geake (Pollokshields
Athletic), P. Livingstone (Kilmarnock), K. Watt (Edinburgh Rovers), T.
Stewart (Volunteer A.C.), T. D. Coats (Paisley Combination), and G. F.
Turnbull (Clyde), forwards.
"_America._--W. R. C. Lincoln (New York Caledonian), goalkeeper; V. H.
Grant (Texas Rovers), W. C. Vanderbilt (Hamilton State Swifts), backs;
J. H. Armstrong (Chicago Association), D. Steel (Nebraska Electric),
half-backs; D. C. Bramey (Victoria Boys), R. S. Chandler (Utah
Gentiles), P. Whitehouse (Newhaven), J. S. Bryan (Alaska Pilgrims), W.
D. Bangle (San Francisco Racers), and T. Lawrence (Washington House),
forwards.
"_Umpires._--J. W. Marindin (South Australia), and D. Y. Jones (Canadian
Association). _Referee._--W. H. Littleton (English Association).
"Before the game began, the Yankees offered to bet level money, and some
of their red-hot plungers even went the length of two to one on their
chances; but they were promptly told that the days of betting and
wagering at football matches, cricket, horse-racing, and all genuine
sport, were now numbered with the past in the United Kingdom.
"Gentlemen, in fact, who loved and enjoyed sport for its own sake, and
for that part of it, ladies too, had voted betting 'low and unmanly,'
and even degrading, and as Parliament had been repeatedly petitioned on
the subject, a bill was almost unanimously passed in the dying year of
the nineteenth century abolishing betting.
"The Loyal Irish Party (late Home Rulers), and the Rado-Toro Democratic
Party (led by Lord Randy Chapel-Mountain), whose hair was beginning to
get silvery-grey, and his long moustache to match, did not even oppose
the bill, and it passed. Never did a legislative enactment work such
improvement among the masses as this bill. It completely banished all
needy souls and black-legs from the arena of honest sport, and left the
field to those who came out of an afternoon and evening to enjoy
themselves in an honest way.
"The coarse language, too, of which our forefathers justly complained
twenty years ago, had almost disappeared, whether through the effects of
the School Board, I would not like to say, but one could now take
sweetheart or wife to enjoy themselves, provided always, of course, the
weather was at all suitable.
"As for professional football players, no such thing had been heard of
for years. They certainly died hard, but eventually no club would have
anything to do with them.
"'What is that?' 'Oh, it's the bell to begin.'
"Well, the game did begin in earnest, immediately after a fair lady had
thrown out the leather ball from the Grand Stand at the right-hand side
of the field. There was no tossing for choice of ends, for a new rule
had been just added to the revised code enacting in a most chivalrous
way that strangers or visitors be allowed to select the side of the
ground they preferred to play on for the first half-hour--for you must
know, my readers, the term now allowed for the game was one hour, and
that when the ball was kicked into touch, there was no throwing back
into play with the hands, but it was kicked from the touch-line straight
out before play was again resumed.
"For some time the forwards kept the leather close to themselves, and
the Yankees on the left wing, by a fine piece of manoeuvring, were
successful in getting it away, amid tremendous cheering. Chandler, who
was one of the fastest sprinters in the world, and had beaten the record
in San Francisco in the fall of last year, got through his men in
brilliant form, and came down on the goalkeeper like 'winkum.' Just as
he was poising himself, however, for a final shot, M'Neil deliberately
crossed the field from the opposite side, and after dodging about the
young American, rushed in and took the leather away, and keeping it
between his feet for a couple of seconds, kicked it clear of the Scotch
goal. A good deal of heading afterwards occurred near the home goal--the
ball getting close on the lines several times, and even passing them.
Many considered before the game began that the Americans would never
have a 'look in' at all, and great was their dismay when they actually
beheld their champions hotly pressed on their own ground, and look like
losing the day. With a brilliant charge the Yankee forwards crowded
round the Scotch sticks like a hive of bees on a June morning, and a
straight shot from the foot of D. Steel, who rushed in from his place at
half-back, caused the ball to glide past the Scotch goalkeeper like a
rocket.
"This was the signal for tremendous excitement. Crowds of partisans and
friends who had come over with the strangers, and many enthusiastic
lovers of the game and fair play, raised a loud cheer, again and again
renewed, at this piece of grand play on the part of the Yankees. The
intensely interested Scotchmen, however, while they certainly admired
the pluck and fine play of the visitors, and cheered in a mild kind of a
way, even though an enemy wrung it from them, kept very quiet, and not a
few white faces might have been seen about the wire fence which kept
spectators and players apart on Bruce Park on that memorable day. They,
however, kept their own counsel, and quaintly said to the Yankees who
chaffed them on the point, that howling was a very good thing in a way,
but it should not be indulged in till people were out of the wood.
"The teams then faced each other in midfield, and the ball had no sooner
left the Scotch captain's foot than it was taken away, and dribbled down
the centre by Bryan, Whitehouse, and Lawrence, and when half-time was
called the latter was just finishing a good shy, which sent the ball
over the bar. According to the new rules a quarter of an hour was
allowed as an interval, and during that time speculation ran high as to
what was destined to be the final issue.
"To indulge for a moment at the idea of the Americans beating the Scotch
on their own ground in the great International was a sore point for the
bulk of the spectators with Scotch faces, but they said very little.
They had a secret hope that their champions would eventually pull off
the game, even though they had a goal to make up, and only half-an-hour
to do it. They had, it was remembered with pride and satisfaction,
pulled through many a doubtful match before, and Scotchmen, it was well
known, were not easily beaten.
"The young lady again threw up the ball, and Tam Glen, getting a good
hold of it at his left foot, made one of the finest fly-kicks ever seen
in a match, and the forwards on the Scotch side following well up,
completely puzzled the Yankee backs and half-backs by their brilliant
passing. Before you could say Jack Robinson, M'Geake shied for the
American goal, and the ball knocked off the cap of the goalkeeper, and,
hitting the bar, bounded back into the field of play. A hard and
exciting scrimmage followed, and amid breathless excitement the Yankees
cleared their goal. Five minutes of very even play followed, and then
the Scotchmen set their teeth and made a desperate effort for victory.
"Only ten minutes of the game now remained to the good, and there was,
you may be sure, no time to lose. One goal behind, and at the great
International, too! It would never do to allow America to whip creation,
even at football! One final effort; no, two final efforts, and it was
done.
"The Scotch captain was seen to whisper something to his team, and in a
few minutes the grandest run which was probably ever witnessed since
football became a scientific sport in the world, was started, and,
before the American backs, half-backs, and goalkeeper could realise
their position, the Scotchmen bore down on the visitors' goal, and
literally dribbled the ball clean through. This was, you may be sure,
the signal for an outburst of cheering, which must have been heard over
the half of the big city of Glasgow, which now contained over a million
of inhabitants.
"The game, however, was not yet won--it was only a tie--and when the
representatives of Brother Jonathan again started the ball only four
minutes remained, but it proved a bad four minutes for the
representatives of the stars and stripes. Another run, backed up by a
shooter from the left foot of Turnbull, settled the great International
for that year at anyrate. Those who had hitherto viewed the game in
moody silence began to come out of their shells (talking piscatorially)
and join in the universal huzzah.
"The Yanks were now fairly cowed, and when another grand piece of play
by Stewart, backed up at the proper moment by Watt, put a third goal to
the credit of the Scotchmen, the visitors, in the most gentlemanly way,
heartily joined in the cheering for the victors. When the referee's
whistle was sounded, the Scotchmen were declared the winners of a
hard-fought field by 3 goals to 1. The crowd completely besieged the
pavilion at Bruce Park at the close, and cheered lustily as the Scotch
champions made their way up the steps. Nor were the vanquished Americans
forgotten. They came in for a round of hearty cheers for their pluck.
"There was a dinner given to the distinguished strangers in the evening,
and the usual complimentary toasts proposed and duly acknowledged; but,
as I was not present, I am unable to say who spoke best and gave the
most enjoyable song.
"At anyrate, a happy evening was passed, and, after spending a day in
Glasgow, the Yankees sailed on the following Monday morning for New
York, where they duly arrived without any mishap, after the fastest
passage on record, having covered the distance from Greenock to Sandy
Hook in twenty-three hours fifty-nine and three-quarter minutes."
Such is "NED DUNCAN'S DREAM; OR, THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL."
_VIII.--THE PATRONS, SPECTATORS, AND POPULAR PLAYERS._
They are to be found in all ranks and conditions of life, from the lord
of the manor down to the apprentice-artizan and newly-fledged young man
from shop and warehouse. Like love, football, for the time, at least,
levels all distinction; and albeit I know, for that of it, many a
well-matched pair, who have met for the first time on the grand stand at
Hampden Park, looking back with feelings of intense pleasure to the time
when their "infant love began." Were it not, in fact, that Caledonia is
at times so "stern and wild," and that football and frost can never
flourish together, the game would be far more extensively patronised by
the fair sex. At a cup tie or an International match, it is quite a
common thing to see the Convener of an adjacent county,[A] the city
magnate, the suburban magistrate, the Free Kirk minister, and the
handsome matronly lady, standing side by side with the horny-handed
mechanic, the office-boy, the overgrown schoolboy, and the Buchanan
Street "swell." They all watch the game and surroundings in their own
particular way. I once heard a quaint, but nevertheless true, idea of
how some of the more familiar visitors give way to a certain failing,
which in itself can scarcely be called such, but is not unfrequently
looked upon with amazement by the stranger. The Scotchman, it is said
somewhere, is not so much respected for the manner in which he goes
about a thing as the way in which he does it, and the remark, when
applied to this particular case, will be all the more potent. Here it
is:--"Where are you going to howl to-morrow (the query is put on
Friday), Jack?" "Oh! the Queen's and Vale, of course; they will have a
close thing of it, and there will be rare fun," says Jack. "Old Anderson
was very indignant last Saturday, and declares that he will never stand
near me again at any such matches. He was quite ashamed of my howling,
and positively charges me with digging my thumbs into his ribs, and
nearly strangling his youngest son at every scrimmage near each goal."
"It serves you right, Tom. I was always afraid something of that kind
would happen; you shouldn't be so demonstrative." Tom was silent. He was
as jealous of his own propriety and good behaviour as anybody could be,
but being of a most excitable nature, he did things in the heat of a
tussle for which he was afterwards very sorry, and many ignored the fact
that he was an old Rangers man, who scored the first goal for that then
young club in a close and exciting game with the once powerful
Clydesdale. As the Association rules are very easily learned in theory,
the great bulk of the spectators show an acquaintance with them which is
pleasing to see, and when an assumed infringement takes place, it is
generally heralded from some part of the field by a partisan of the
contending elevens. The only apparently unintelligible point to them is
the "off-side" rule, and I have seen a goal kicked in this way hailed
with deafening cheers and waving of hats and handkerchiefs. These
manifestations, however, were turned into low growling when the leather
was sent away by a free kick. The ladies, too, talk about "free kicks,"
"corner-kicks," "heading," "hands," "beautiful passing and dribbling,"
as if to the manner born. I cannot, however, dismiss the subject of
spectators without referring to the use and abuse of a free and
unrestrained vent to pent-up feelings. There is the low, vulgar fellow,
whose collarless neck and general coarseness of exterior and language
indicates that he possesses all the vices but none of the virtues of the
"honest working man." Work he will not, except he is compelled, and
although to "beg he is ashamed," he would be the first to do a mean
action if he had the opportunity. It is he who, by his foul tongue and
very breath, contaminates the atmosphere he breathes, and brings some of
the matches into disrepute. Unfortunately he has paid his money at the
gate (sometimes he gets over the fence), and you can't turn him out; but
he makes hundreds miserable. He is, in fact, one of the "unimproving and
irresponsible," and moral suasion has no power over his hard and stony
heart. Sometimes in an evil moment his vulgar remark is challenged by
one of the players on the contending sides, and this gives him an air of
importance. There is nothing, however, which shows a want of gentlemanly
bearing in a team more clearly than paying the least attention to
exclamations from excited spectators. They should treat them with silent
indifference, and if needs be, contempt, and play away as if there were
nobody present at all. It is sometimes, nevertheless, very hard for
country clubs to come to Glasgow and play for the city charities, and
get howled at by this class of spectators at certain stages of the game.
The great bulk of those around, however, are indignant at such conduct,
and regret it all the more on account of being utterly unable to prevent
it. There is another spectator, too, who not unfrequently forgets
himself, and he is to be found on what might be termed the "touch-line"
of society. He is the fast young man, who considers you a perfect
nonentity if you don't bet. I don't mean betting on football pure and
simple, for he only lays a few "bobs" on it, but on the latest
quotations for the Derby, the St. Leger, the Waterloo Cup, or the
University boat race. His "screw" is not very big at the best, but he
can always lay "half a sov." on the event, whether his landlady's bill
is paid or not, and touching that little account of Mr. Strides, the
tailor, why, he'll pay it when he "makes a pile." He thinks too much of
himself ever to get married, and the young ladies of his acquaintance
may indulge in a sigh of relief at escaping from the toils of such a
consummate fool. When he has something "on" a match, and sees that it is
lost, he not unfrequently opens out, and is not over choice in his
language. The game, however, goes on, and is greatly enjoyed by the
general spectator, despite such drawbacks, and if you happen to go to
the same locality on a similar occasion, you are all but sure to see old
and familiar faces crowding round the stand and area.
[A] The late lamented Mr. A. B. Stewart, Convener of the County
of Bute, was an enthusiastic admirer of the game, and many will
miss his handsome firm and kindly remark when future matches are
played on the leading grounds in Scotland.
The modern Association football player is a man of some ability. As a
rule he is temperate in his habits, with a good appetite, and sound in
limb. Long before he knew what football was, he was blessed with a large
share of health. When a boy at school he used to be remarkable for
punctuality, but occasionally got into trouble from neglected lessons,
in consequence of a weakness for indulging in out-door sports. He loved
the rude style of football, then played, dearly (he knew of nothing
better), although goal-posts, touch-lines, corner-flags, and other
modern appliances were totally unknown. As for "hacking," it was endured
by all and sundry with the air of martyrs. Why, if you had not nerve
enough to "give and take" in that line, your chance of getting near the
"goal score" was remote indeed, and you were looked upon as a coward and
the verriest noodle. He, of course, grows older, and by and by joins an
average club, and gets on very well. The crack football players,
however, have many maturities. They generally come slowly, but surely,
and leave behind them powerful impressions. They are like the occasional
planets, not the stars which are seen every evening if you care to look
towards the "milky way." They are mostly fine-looking fellows, with
pleasant countenances and grandly-moulded limbs. They have just passed a
severe course of probation in the football field, without even an
outward trace of anxiety. The vagaries of the game admit of no
distinction of class. The crack player is, in fine, found among all
classes--in the gentleman's son, in the clerk at the desk, and the lad
in the workshop. There may be different ways of working out the latent
ability, but sooner or later it begins to show itself. Some thought it
was scarcely fair in the Duke of Wellington to say that "Waterloo was
won at Eton." There is not the least possibility of doubt such a remark
might be misunderstood, and many feel inclined to charge the "Iron Duke"
with ignoring the services rendered by the non-commissioned officers and
men of the British army, for everybody knows that none but the sons of
the opulent class can ever gain admittance to Eton. It looked, in fact,
very like the credit being given to the officers for winning that great
battle. Wellington, however, had his eye on the football and cricket
grounds when he spoke these words, and no doubt intended to convey the
idea that these games went a long way in bracing up the nerve which
served so well on the battle-field. Close adhesion to the practice of
any game really and sincerely creates fresh possibilities of that
perfection and discipline. And why should this not be so in football,
particularly as it is a game regulated by sharply-defined maxims?
Everyone can't be the captain of an eleven; and as for Wellington's
remarks, the most humble member of the team may show the greatest
ability. You may belong to the most "swellish" of clubs, and have a fair
reputation, but you are not chosen to play in the International. Your
father may be the "Great Mogul" himself, but that has no effect. The
coveted place can only be attained by merit, and this is one of the most
successful and meritorious traits in Scotch Association Football. You
don't, as a rule, even get a place now by reputation, and so much the
better. When clubs were few and good players fewer, you were not
unfrequently favoured with one, whether you deserved it or not, but now
the matter is different, and justly so, since we cannot go into a single
town or village in Scotland without seeing the practice ground and
goal-posts of the now omnipresent football club.
_IX.--A DREAM OF THE PAST._
I am getting old and stiff now, at least in a football sense, but have
seen and played in, perhaps, more big matches in my time than many will
be inclined to give me credit for now. Somehow or other the modern
player does not seem to go into the game for the pleasure it affords
nearly so heartily as his representative of yore, but it may be that the
Compulsory Clause in the Education Act has made him more refined, or, if
you like it, a good deal more cunning in hiding his animal spirits and
exuberance of innocent fun. Be that as it may, the Association Football
of to-day does not really possess the same charm to me as it did ten
years ago.
I was once a very fair player, but never considered sufficiently
brilliant to get my name handed down to posterity as the crack half-back
of the "Invincible Club" of bygone days, or proclaimed aloud in the
secret recesses of the great "houf" where football players now retire to
spend a social hour after finding themselves the victors of a
hard-fought field. I must admit, however, that I did some clever things
which the newspapers of that era ought to have at least given me a
"puff" for, but they didn't; in fact, I never, like Byron (Lord Byron, I
mean), awoke one morning to find myself famous, because my football was
that of days long ago, in an obscure (to football, at least) country
town; and, besides, the game then was conducted in rather a rude and
undignified fashion. Talk about rules, we had those which might, for all
I know, have been framed by the "Chief Souter of Selkirk" himself to
suit the peculiar mode of playing on the streets at Shrovetide (a
practice still in vogue near that Border land). Our captain knew nothing
of such new-fangled devices as the Rugby code, and far less of the
Football Association. Ours, in brief, was a sort of combination of both
styles of play. To win a "hail," as it was termed, the opposing side,
with shoving, hacking, and other descriptions of horse-play, had only to
pass the ball over the line, and it was won. Touch-lines, corner-flags,
twenty-five flags, and even upright posts, and the usual concomitants of
the scientific game of to-day, were unknown. This leads me, then, to the
point of tracing the rise and progress of the game in Scotland during
the past dozen years, leaving its antiquity and origin, about which
there are mere surmises, an "open question." That it was played,
however, in Edinburgh and Glasgow at least twenty years ago, under rules
somewhat similar to those now adhered to by the followers of the Rugby
Union I can well remember, and this was the only kind of football known
by the young athletes of that time. Over a dozen years ago many were the
exciting contests engaged in by not a few of the clubs still in
existence.
The oval ball, with its historical associations, has a charm for them.
They then talked about the Association style of play with something akin
to contempt. "What," they might have been heard to say, "is the fun of
looking at people 'bobbing' a ball about with their heads, and the half
of a team doing nothing, while a couple or so of the players are engaged
at a time? Give us the closely-packed maul, the exciting individual run,
with the ball under the arm, the gallant struggle to ground it over the
opposing line, and, above all, the beautifully dropped goal." "But
nobody goes to see your matches now," remarks a newly-fledged convert to
the Association style of play, who has come to see the "Inter-City,"
"they got disgusted with your never-ending mauls and shoving matches,
preferring to witness scientific manipulation of the ball in dribbling,
and passing with the feet." "Pshaw! do you imagine we care a straw for
gate-money? We play the game for the love of it, and the genuine
exercise it affords," retorts the old Rugby adherent, "and respect it
all the more on that account." "Oh! it is all very well to tell one
that, but don't your leading clubs still charge for admission to their
matches?" "Yes; but this is more in the way of keeping out the roughs
from the field than for gain." Such conversation I have overheard
myself, and none of the sides made much by it.
Well can I remember the birth of Association Football in Scotland, and
look back to the time when there was not as many clubs as I could count
on the fingers of one hand. In 1870, a semi-International contest, under
Association rules, was played in London between Scotch men living in
England and an English Eleven, and continued till 1872, when, on
November 30th, the first real International match between England and
Scotland took place in Glasgow. In that same year, early in the season,
the celebrated Queen's Park Club (to whom Scotland owes the introduction
of the game), entered the lists for the English Challenge Cup, and were
drawn against the London Wanderers. It was at that point that the
matches which had hitherto been played in London between London
Scotchmen and Englishmen were given up in favour of an annual match
between Scotland and England, to be played alternately in London and
Glasgow, and, if possible, so to arrange the contest that the
Association match might be played in England the same season that the
Rugby match would be played in Scotland, and _vice versa_. It might be
as well here to say that the celebrated Scotch club and the Wanderers,
then in the zenith of their fame, played a drawn game with no goals on
either side, but finding it too difficult a job to meet the Englishmen
again, they scratched. Since then, however, the Rugby and Association
Internationals take place regularly as each season comes round, in
Scotland and England alternately. It is a curious fact, and one worthy
of record, that the Scottish Rugby Football Union and the Scottish
Football Association were both constituted in the same year--viz., 1873.
The Union was formed after the International Rugby match at Glasgow, Dr.
J. Chiene, of Edinburgh, being in the chair on the occasion. The
Scottish Football Association was formed under the presidency of Mr.
Robert Gardner, the once famous goalkeeper.
The annual competition for the Association Cup, when the clubs who
entered for it the first year only numbered 16, were proceeded with in a
much more gentlemanly way than is the case now, but the reason is
obvious. Hitherto young and inexperienced clubs never dreamt of entering
against opponents with whom they knew they had no chance, and,
consequently, the competitions were left to be fought out among the
cream of exponents of the dribbling game. As each year came round,
however, and young clubs began to multiply exceedingly, many of them
considered they should have a shy at the "Cup," and as the entry-money
for membership to the Association was only a nominal sum, they competed,
and were never heard of after the first tie. No one who has watched the
progress of Association Football in Scotland can for a moment deny the
fact that the Challenge Cup has been the chief factor in assuring its
popularity and rapid development all over the Western District of
Scotland, and when its original promoters inaugurated the competition,
it was done with the honest conviction of spreading a knowledge of the
Association rules, together with generating a spirit of friendly rivalry
amongst clubs.
That it has been eminently successful in the former respect is admitted,
but I can't say the same thing so far as "friendly rivalry" is
concerned, and one has only to remember the manner in which some of the
ties are conducted to point out that the term "questionable conduct"
would be more appropriate. When I hear of men and lads deliberately
kicking one another, and charging wildly when the ball is about ten
yards away in front, I begin to consider that the time has positively
arrived when the Scottish Football Association, if it wishes to retain
its hold, should interfere, and make a selection of clubs to compete for
the "blue ribbon" of Association glory. Quadruple the subscriptions to
the Association if necessary, and, above all, revise the bye-laws in
such a way that what is known as a "rough game" would be impossible. It
is but fair, however, to the Scottish Football Association to state that
they have long been alive to the fact, and have since taken the matter
up while deciding protests.
The Association Rules, however, are immensely popular with the people,
and in some of the big matches it is quite a common thing to see 10,000
or 15,000 spectators. I have heard of such people as those who actually
hate cricket and football, and make it a constant aim to prevent those
over whom they have some influence from engaging in the manly sport.
They occasionally flit across one's path like an evil spirit, and
disappear as rapidly, but leave behind a chilling effect on the
imagination, far more intense than the terrible nightmare after a
disastrous defeat. They cannot see the fun of spending valuable time in
such a way. If you follow one of those gentle "cads," however, at the
close of an evening, he may be seen, cue in hand, earnestly engaged at
the billiard table. He is not in a happy mood, for he is one of the
losing side, and there is a wild look about his eyes. He sometimes gets
home rather early in the morning, and is not particularly careful of his
choice of companions at times. They are childish amusements, these games
at cricket and football, "and none but silly people," he continues,
"would ever think of engaging in, or even encouraging, them any way."
And another thing. There is a sort of prejudice to football, and, in
fact, to a lot of healthful out-door exercises, in Scotland, among the
older people, who can scarcely endure the thought of spending time under
any circumstances; and parents are often the cause of degenerating a
kind of deception more common than one would believe--viz., playing
under assumed names. Surely it is much better for the young men to spend
a spare afternoon on the football field, enjoying the fresh air, than
being, perhaps, engaged in questionable "time-smashing," in the way of
playing cards, draughts, or drinking. On asking a well-known dribbler
the other day how it came about that he played under a _nomme de
guerre_, "Was he afraid to let his real name be known?" The answer was
conclusive. The governor was sometimes inexorable, and treated him to a
lecture on filial obedience and the inevitable consequences of
neglecting business. He positively debarred him from playing again, but
Tom was not to be done. Taking advantage of the old fellow's absence
from home, he yielded to the solicitations of his captain, and played
under an assumed name, dribbling and passing in such beautiful form that
thousands of spectators applauded his efforts, and his side won in a
canter. As the non-indulgent parent did not observe Tom's name in the
papers, his little deception was never found out, and he continued doing
duty for his club in this way for a couple of seasons. And of the yet
fine player who thinks he will retire as each season comes round,
something must also be said. His eye has not yet lost the gleam of
honest rivalry, and he snorts like the war-horse as each season comes
round to be in the thick of the fight. He retired, it may be, last
season, for good, as he thought, but the fascinations of the goal-posts
and flying corner-flags was too much for him as a spectator at the first
big game, and he yielded for another year, but it will be his last, for
Maud, his beloved and beautiful Maud, will claim him as her own before
June. "We have been long engaged," he is heard to say to an old club
companion, "but this blessed football, of which I am very fond, has been
the cause of putting off the marriage."
I once knew a fine young fellow, a crack half-back, who was so anxious
to play in an "International," that he positively swore he would never
get married till he was one of the chosen team. He kept his word. He
played twice for his country, got married, and, as the "unexpected does
not always happen," is now the father of what may some day prove a race
of stalwart football players. His handsome, though now slightly-bent
form, is still often seen when a great event is being decided,
accompanied by his wife and children, and woe betide the captain of his
former club if he allows it to be beaten. "Well played; keep him off the
ball, can't you!" he is heard to exclaim, till he is red in the face,
and he goes home to dinner with something like an appetite.
None but those who have positively come through all the grades of
football probation really know what amount of labour, to say nothing of
self-denial, is needed to make a crack back, half-back, or skilful
forward. Sometimes one has to be contented with a place in the Second
Eleven for years, before some incident, it may be, brings him to the
front, and reveals true merit. In football, of course, as in other
things, I have found that the best men were not always in their best
places, and when this was the case, what is known as favouritism came in
bold relief, but in the end the club in which such stupidity was rampant
suffered very severely. It did all very well when the club were engaged
in ordinary contests with weaker opponents, but it came out in some of
the big events, in which the guilty club predominated in the selection
of men to represent a city, a university, and even a country.
Fortunately, however, I can honestly say that during the last few years
there has been little of this practised, and Scotch football under both
rules is all the better in consequence.
While every enlightened mind is willing to go a long way in advocating
equality, the line must be drawn somewhere, and I am inclined to think
at that stage where gentlemanly feeling and courtesy are absent. A very
obscure individual may, by his conduct on the field, show that he at
least can be a gentleman. In all such manly sports social distinction
ought to be sunk, and that great and noble equality--that equality and
love of honest worth which is so dear to the Scotch (and let me also say
English heart) be ever remembered, when team meets team on the football
field. We are shown noble examples of how in days gone by, peer mingled
with peasant on the cricket field, strove with each other on the curling
pond, and why should not such things exist in football? Let me hope that
as each succeeding season comes round the noble winter game will in
proportion show greater improvement, both in club and individual
integrity, as well as higher scale of moral worth.
_X.--THE DUEL NEAR THE FOOTBALL FIELD, AND THE CAUSE OF IT._
"And you tell me, Frank, that the old ground is at last cut up to form a
railway embankment?" said Bob Smith to Frank Green (whose sister, by the
way, had got married to Pate Brown last season), as they met one evening
at Crosshill.
"They will be long in finding a ground like Hampden Park, I'm thinking,"
replied Green, with the recollections of pleasant games and glorious
victories for the Black-and-Whites, to say nothing of numerous gains to
Scotland in matches with England and Wales.
Since this meeting of Bob and Frank, however, the said Black-and-Whites
have got pretty far forward with a new ground quite close to Hampden
Park, and it is now being levelled up and put into condition. The
railway embankment referred to is part of the Cathcart Railway, which
will assist very considerably in opening up rapid communication between
Glasgow and the whole of the suburban burghs lying south.
While referring to the Southern Suburbs, which, it may be mentioned, are
closely associated with the rise and progress of Association Football,
I cannot refrain from alluding to several genial souls who have helped
to make them what they are. None, however, is entitled to claim more
consideration and credit than Provost Goodfellow, of Suburbopolis, whose
official life, so to speak, has been spent in the cause of suburban
organisation, accompanied, of course, with a due regard for Association
Football.
You must know, my brave Scotch readers, and those hailing from South of
the Tweed, that the Provost of a Scotch burgh or town occupies the exact
position of the English Mayor. He is the head of the municipality, and
is, in fact, a kind of ruler of all he surveys, but about his "right to
dispute," particularly when the November election comes on, why that is
purely a matter of opinion.
Well, the ruler of Suburbopolis was not a despotic man. He was certainly
a little pedantic, and who, I should like to know, would not be inclined
to lean that way if they had taken part in a great annexation fight with
the chiefs of the big bouncing city of Glasgow, and beaten them too?
Some years ago, it may be briefly explained, the Glasgow authorities
devised a scheme, whereby all the suburban burghs were to be taken under
the wing of Glasgow and lose their entire independence, and
Suburbopolis, being close on the touch-line, was to be attacked first.
Glasgow, in fact, was to act as the veritable annaconda, and swallow it
up, but she didn't.
Scotch Radicals, talking politically, had not hitherto much faith in
what they considered an effete hereditary legislature, such as the House
of Lords, but if there was one thing more than another calculated to
bring about a Conservative reaction among the Glasgow suburban
authorities, it was the attention paid to their vested interests by the
Peers.
The Commons had spurned their entreaties to maintain independence with
scorn, and even relegated them to Bumbledom, but their lordships, to
whom the case was appealed, literally strangled the said annaconda
before she began to devour, and Suburbopolis, along with other five
thriving burghs, were saved from municipal death, and still retain their
Provosts. Provost Goodfellow was a most genial soul, and particularly
fond of Association Football.
He could talk about dribbling, passing, and backing-up, as if to the
manner born. The only thing, in fact, which he did not fully understand
was the "off-side rule," and many of greater pretentions were as far at
sea regarding that said rule as the worthy Provost. He was the life and
soul of Charity Cup Ties, and never failed to turn out to patronise
them. Even the charming young ladies of the family (for you must know
his honour had three handsome daughters) knew a good deal about the
rules, and had several excited discussions with their brother Archie
(who was a member of the Camphill), and Bob Lambert (of the
Black-and-Whites), as to the respective merits of sundry clubs.
These young ladies, too, had a long string of admirers, and no family
acquaintance was more eagerly sought after than that of the Goodfellows.
Suburbopolis, however, was by no means devoid of a galaxy of feminine
beauty and well-developed male forms, who might have been seen of an
evening leaving the handsome villas and terraces around the Park (for
which the inhabitants were not taxed).
There were, of course, the families of Colonel Black (an old warrior,
who had been through the Crimea and Indian Mutiny), the Redpath girls,
whose mother was a widow, the Snodgrass young ladies (three in number),
the Misses Bland, residing at Jessimine Lodge, and, of course, many more
lesser luminaries. The Colonel's daughters, or "Golden Slippers," as
one of them was called by several members of the Camphill, who had
caught her in the act of watching a practice game on the eve of a big
Cup Tie, wearing a pair of fur-lined slippers, and had her heart set on
the Camphill beating the Black-and-Whites, was, indeed, the most
handsome girl in the burgh.
I would not dare to attempt a pen-and-ink sketch. It would fail in its
effect. It's all very good for you fellows who have no soul for feminine
loveliness to talk about girls, like babies, being all pretty much
alike, but you are wrong--entirely wrong. Jenny was, in fine, a "bonnie,
bonnie lass," and scores of young fellows, I know, would have gone
considerably out of their way to have received "ae blink o' her bonnie
black e'e." Emma, although scarcely so tall, was very like her sister,
only shorter in the temper.
After sundry matches at the field, Jack Black used to take a few of his
companions up to the Hillhouse, and the young ladies received them
graciously--congratulating them when they won their matches, and
"chaffing" them unmercifully when they lost.
There were at least three suitors for the hand of Jenny, but one of them
resided in London, and the other at Skyview Villa, a couple of hundred
yards from Hillhouse. It can be easily imagined that the local man had
the advantage in the courtship, being, as the special correspondent
always prides himself in adding to his communications, "on the spot."
Bob Lambert was, to be sure, a welcome visitor at Jenny's residence, and
a fast companion of her brother Jack, and what was more, Bob was quite a
favourite with the old Colonel, who admired his fine appearance in the
football field, and the brilliant manner in which he could "back-up"
when that was needed to win a game. Bob, I must confess, was really a
nice-looking fellow, with black curly hair, and a good broad chest. His
features were well formed, and he possessed penetrating dark grey eyes.
There was one thing, however, which told against Bob in many ways, and
that was his hasty temper. He could brook no rival in his position as
the best forward in the Black-and-Whites, and a word or two from the
captain at a practice game was sure to upset him. He sometimes, in fact,
took the pet altogether.
Once, when playing a Cup Tie with the Athletic Park, he met his match in
Charlie Walker (another of Jenny's sweethearts), who played at
half-back, and the work done all through that eventful match was seen
between the pair. Talk about coming in contact with "mother earth," why
that was positively child's play when the two met.
Walker was also a powerful fellow, and it was a case of Greek meeting
Greek. "Bumping at Oxford," to use an aquatic term, why it was nothing!
At one time Bob was seen tossed up in the air as if from the horns of an
infuriated bull, and at another Charlie was observed lying on the field
at Bob's feet. What did they care about the ball being fifty yards off?
Not a straw, so long as they tackled and kept each other away from it.
"That's not football," says one, "it is horse play." "Never mind about
football in a Cup Tie," says another, "let the heaviest team win; go
into the fellow." "Oh! gentlemen, gentlemen, fie, fie, Association
Football is an amateur game, and as long as I play it," said the
captain, "there shall be no cruelty done on either side."
Little did the spectators know the real cause of the inordinate tackling
done by Bob and Charlie, but the secret soon came out. The pair had
previously been rivals for the hand of Jenny Black, and Bob was looked
upon as the winner. At least Charlie had not been seen at the Black's
Villa for two or three months, and before this he always made it his
house of call. But what about Harry Carts, Jenny's English sweetheart?
Why, I had almost forgotten him.
A team of Cantabs had played the Black-and-Whites just a year
previously, and Harry was one of them. He had been invited to spend an
evening at the Colonel's house, and had fallen desperately in love with
the bonnie Scotch lassie. Bob was also specially invited and was present
that evening, and although trying to be as affable as possible to the
friendly stranger and opponent, could barely hide his jealousy when the
gallant English forward kissed the lovely girl's ruby lips in a game at
forfeits.
Bob said nothing about it to Jenny, but Emma, the youngest sister,
whispered to her brother Jack that Bob's eyes had a wild look that
evening. The matter, however, was soon forgotten, as Harry Carts left
Glasgow the next evening for London, after his gallant team had played a
drawn game with the Scotch Black-and-Whites--the first one ending in
that way, be it observed, that had ever been played between them and an
English team on Scottish ground in the memory of the proverbial "oldest
inhabitant."
Harry Carts, to give him his due, was one of the best Association
football players ever England produced. When Mr. C. W. Alcock and a few
choice spirits in London, it is true, first opened the eyes of many
football players to the value of the Association rules, and inaugurated
the Football Association in 1863, Harry was a mere child. Appearing at
college, however, he soon showed a liking for the dribbling game, and
never lost a moment in doing his best to acquire everything he was
likely to know about it.
Just the season before our story opens, he had been chosen from an
imposing array of names sent in by his club, and also the branch
Associations, for an honourable place in the "Great International." His
superiority, in fact, put his place beyond doubt, and he stood to
represent his country first, and club afterwards, in a tussle which
proved disastrous to England; but it was admitted by all who witnessed
the match that Harry was one of the best men on the Field, and, in
company with his half-back, showed the best form and pluck--the
victorious Scotchmen notwithstanding. How the pair above mentioned
tackled and passed up, to say nothing of backing and nursing the ball, I
know full well, for I saw the game. Harry and his companion, in fact,
were again and again cheered for their magnificent dribbling, and when
the eventful game was over Harry was carried shoulder-high, in real
Scotch form, to the Black-and-White's pavilion.
The incident did not escape Jenny and her sister, who were standing on
the gravelled walk in front of the pavilion. Jenny was sympathetic when
she saw the handsome young Englishman cheered by the excited crowd, and
when the excitement culminated into carrying him shoulder-high to the
pavilion, a brilliant flash from her eye told the tale of regard. The
young lady, despite assertions to the contrary, must have at least
admired the young Englishman; and among the blithe and gentle faces who
swept their cambric handkerchiefs over their heads, none were more
demonstrative than the Black girls. They saw, with something akin to
pride, Harry let gently down at the pavilion door, followed by their
brother Jack, Jim Wallace, and Bill M'Clelland, all of whom had done
great work in the big match.
Harry did not lose sight of the handsome face which had haunted him all
the previous summer, notwithstanding his flirtation with the Italian
girls in Venice. Venice, beautiful Venice! It was in thy classic city,
close to the scene of the great Italian poet's labours and triumphs,
that poor Jack Vincent (who used to play left wing in the Swifts) was
found drowned, after attending a ball. Poor Jack, I think even now I can
see his handsome, but withal, comical face, when he used to dodge sundry
half-backs while playing for his club. Poor fellow! grave hints were
held out at the time that he had met with foul play, but nothing more
was ever heard about the matter, and Jack's friends never got any
satisfaction.
I am, however, going off the line with my brief story. Carts, in fact,
felt Jenny's face haunting him wherever he went, and on the earliest
opportunity came back to Scotland, asked the dear little girl to be his
wife, got the crusty old Colonel's consent, and the pair were all but
apparently engaged to be married at an early date. Harry was splendid
company either on the field, at the Black-and-White's room in
Battlefield Hotel, or at the villa. He could sing a good song, tell a
good story, and crack a wild joke. Harry used to sing a new song about
football, the chorus of which jingled out:
"In measured blow, the dancing feet,
Now moving slow, now galloping fleet;
With a leap and a curl,
With a sweep and a twirl."
He declared that the song was original, but Archie, who was a bit of a
book-worm, and never neglected taking in the "Monthlies," expressed
grave misgivings about having seen something like it applied to a skater
in "Scribner's Magazine."
Bob Lambert and Charlie Walker, the other two young fellows who were
looked upon as Jenny's admirers, were terribly shaken in heart and
spirit when they heard of her flirtation with the handsome young
Englishman; but such a thing as an engagement between them was never for
a moment entertained. Bob was too much a man of the world to suppose
that Jenny would ever give him up for another; and poor, soft-headed
Charlie, why, he was sure the Colonel's favourite daughter loved him
still.
Matters went on in this way for some time. The football season was now
about closed, as the month of May was at hand, and all the big matches
had been lost and won, including the Challenge Cup Tie, which Dumbarton
had carried off. For several evenings Bob and Charlie had not come
across one another (although Charlie was also a member of the
Black-and-Whites, as well as the Athletic Park). Bob had blamed Charlie
for telling some stories about a fine young girl whom the former had
promised to make his wife a year previously. The poor girl, it was
hinted, had been jilted to such an extent by Bob, that she had broken
her heart, and pined away and died.
One evening the pair met at the entrance to the pavilion on Hampden
Park, where a lot of the players were lounging about smoking, after
having done with their sides. Most of the club fellows knew that Lambert
and Walker had not spoken to each other for a long time, even to the
extent of exchanging the usual salutations about the weather. They were,
therefore, much astonished to see them in earnest conversation. Menacing
looks were exchanged, and something like curses--not deep, perhaps, but
loud--were heard from the rivals' lips.
The fact was, the men had arranged to settle their "little difference"
with swords. What do you think of that, my nineteenth century
intelligent reader, with all your boasted approach to civilisation and
sacred respect for life? Why, a cold-blooded duel with swords, and in
the French fashion, too! Both hot-headed youths knew comparatively
little about the handling of the chosen weapons, nothing more, indeed,
than what they received while training in the Volunteers; but it was a
"point of honour," and they would do their best.
Several of the Black-and-Whites, who had heard about the proposed
"meeting," had a secret consultation with Ned M'Gill and Davie Merricks,
who, it was whispered, had taken the friendly job of "seconds," and the
whole affair was "adjusted." With swords this was impossible, and they
resolved to resort to the respectable and honourable weapon, the
revolver.
The two men who were to face each other in terrible earnest, you may be
sure, slept little or none during the preceding night. "Four o'clock
sharp, mind, at the grass field, near Hagg's Castle," said the brave
seconds, "and it will be all over in a few minutes." Charlie shuddered
when he heard the last words (which, by the way, were deliberately
intended for him).
"_A few minutes, and all will be over_," Charlie muttered; "what if I
should be killed?" His very teeth (which he used to whiten with cigar
ashes, and was so proud about), were chattering. Thousands of ideas
floated across his heated imagination. He saw his past life before him,
and the only consolation, if it could be called one, lay in the thought
that, should it come to the worst, Jenny Black's eyes would be dimmed
with tears at his misfortune. He felt sure the dear lassie loved him,
and he would brave death a thousand times rather than endure the anguish
of seeing her married to a useless fellow like Bob Lambert.
Bob, on the other hand, was really a cool and determined fellow; and
while Charlie was in the throes speculating about probable dissolution
before the morrow's sun should rise, Bob was actually priding himself on
superior ability in handling a revolver. He was, in fact, far too
arrogant a man to imagine that _he_ could be shot by a silly boy like
Walker. He had made up his mind to shoot straight when the signal fell,
and indulged in the devilish pleasure it would afford him to read a
"true and particular account" of the duel in the Glasgow evening papers,
if good luck would favour him in escaping to the Continent.
"These fellows are not going to come up to the scratch," said Ned M'Gill
to the other honourable gent--as they passed the Clydesdale Cricket
Ground a few minutes to four o'clock on that memorable morning. Ned,
however, was wrong. Through the grey dawn a muffled figure was observed
crossing the Pollokshields Athletic Club's Park, and making direct for
the old castle. Almost simultaneously came a second individual from the
vicinity of Crossmyloof, smoking a cigar. There was no doubt about it,
for on closer inspection the figure was that of Lambert, who generally
indulged in a good cigar, as he had a friend in the Anchor Line who was
always supplying him with "weeds."
A very short time sufficed to measure the distance, but the would-be
_murderers_, no doubt, considered it an age. When the seconds advanced
along with their men to the fatal spot, and placed them twenty paces
apart, Charlie put one in mind of the poor misguided boy in "The
Rivals." His hand shook, and his knees almost touched one another.
_The signal was given_, and bang went the revolvers from both sides.
None of the young men, however, seemed to have been hit; and while
Charlie was almost sinking on the ground from excitement, Bob might have
been seen examining his weapon with suspicion, at the same time casting
a glance at his rival and wondering why he did not fall. A second or two
more, and the latter fired another shot, and this time poor Charlie
dropped his pistol and fell back on the grass.
Bob was satisfied he had done the business now, and taking the advice of
Davie Merricks, he fled for his life; getting the early train for
Greenock and thence per steamer "Golden Eagle," to the Isle of Man.
The "seconds" (and a few strange figures that were seen lurking about)
of course, lifted the supposed dying man from the grass, and as his
"life's blood ebbed away," they whispered about being willing to fill a
last request. Poor Charlie's brow was covered with blood, and as he
himself expressed the terrible sensation of "feeling a pistol ball
bobbing about in his brain," arrangements were hastily made for having
him consigned to relatives. Accordingly his lodgings were sought after
and easily found by the excited hansom driver who had taken them near
the fatal spot.
All the time the affair was going on the driver threw out grave hints
about reporting the whole matter to the police. When they reached
Greenfield Avenue, however, there was still some life in Charlie, but he
said he "knew he was dying," and forgave everybody who had taken part in
the rascally business.
Higgins, the hansom driver, was as good as his word, and after leaving
the place, went direct to the Suburbopolis Police Office, and got the
whole matter reported. Not very long after the police surrounded the
house in Greenfield Avenue, and Provost Goodfellow (who, it may be
remarked, was the only magistrate at home when the affair took place,
and had to be aroused for the purpose), came in all haste to take the
"dying deposition." Meanwhile Dr. Barrister, one of the best of the
local surgeons, was in attendance.
The doctor, however, suspecting something soon after feeling the
supposed wounded man's pulse, and judge of the surprise, to say nothing
of indignation, when the doctor, and then the Provost, began to indulge
in a hearty fit of unrestrained laughter. The "seconds" knew their
business well, for they had _loaded the weapons with blank cartridges
and a few drops of bullock's blood_, and some of the contents of Bob's
pistol had hit Charlie on the brow.
Poor Charlie, he was so terribly shaken and nervous after being hit that
he was long in getting the better of the fright. Like the French
prisoner whom the cruel authorities of the "Inquisition" determined
should be experimented upon as a victim of imagination in the way of
supposed bleeding to death, Charlie, although he had not received a
scratch, thought he was dying fast, till the doctor informed him of the
imaginary wound.
A few days afterwards the affair was "hushed up," and nobody was better
pleased when he heard the true state of matters than Bob Lambert
himself. His friend Jim Campbell had sent a letter to Douglas Post
Office, to be called for, under a fictitious name, and Bob soon returned
to Glasgow.
When little Jenny Black was told the same morning of the duel, that
Charlie Walker had been shot by Bob Lambert, she fainted clean away, and
afterwards refused to be comforted. "To think that she, a poor weak
girl, should have been the cause of such a terrible tragedy," she was
heard to say to her sister, "I'm afraid I'll never get over it." When
the true state of matters, however, was revealed, and the whole affair
brought up in its real light, it afforded immense merriment all over
Suburbopolis, and when football players met to spend a social hour, the
duel between Bob Lambert and Charlie Walker is, of course, alluded to as
a standard joke.
A few months afterwards there was a nice wedding at Colonel Black's
villa, and strange as it may seem, both Lambert and Walker were there,
together with quite a crowd of football players and their sweethearts.
The reader will, of course, easily make out who wore the bridal dress,
and looked lovely in it, too. Surprise, however, not, it is to be hoped,
altogether unmixed with satisfaction, will be expressed, when the
bride-groom appears in the person of Charlie Walker, Jenny's own love.
Harry Carts, the handsome Englishman, she certainly admired, but did not
actually love sufficiently to make a husband of. He, in fact, seemed to
have been too fond of company, and in correspondence a coldness had
sprung up between them, and ended in two parting letters.
Jenny loved Charlie Walker best, and accordingly gave him her heart and
hand. "What he had suffered for her sake," the young lady was heard to
express to a confidant, "no one but himself knew." They are, however,
now a happy pair, and when Cup Ties and big matches are being played
near Suburbopolis, you will be sure to see Charlie and his handsome wife
on the field.
As for Bob Lambert, who was forgiven, he became more of a man in
subduing his temper and general disposition, and one evening told his
old rival that he would never forget till his dying day--"THE DUEL NEAR
THE FOOTBALL FIELD."
_XI.--THE FINAL TIE FOR THE ASSOCIATION CHALLENGE CUP--1889-90._
_TWO MEMORABLE MATCHES._
A couple of matches had to played before the final tie for the
Association Challenge Cup was decided, and at the earnest request of
numerous friends I have reproduced my articles on both games, which
appeared in the Daily Mail, and trust they will be considered worthy a
place in the volume. The following is the
~First Match.~
This important contest, which had to be postponed the previous Saturday
in consequence of the dense fog which enveloped the city and suburbs in
semi-darkness, came off at Ibrox Park, and resulted in a draw--each side
scoring a goal. Early in the forenoon the weather in every particular
looked like a counterpart of the previous Saturday, and it was not till
well on in the day that the Association Committee finally decided to go
on with the match. Even with this short notice, combined with the fact
that heavy rain came on and continued till well on in the second half,
the attendance of spectators was large, about 11,000, and this is borne
out by the cash lifted at the gate, some £500. Of this the Association
gets a third, and the other two-thirds are equally divided between the
contending teams. The proceeds of the stand, however, went to the
Rangers' funds, as that club gave their ground free of charge to the
Association to play off the tie. Paisley Road and Govan Road presented a
scene to be remembered from two o'clock till well on for 3.30 P.M.,
being thronged with vehicles of every kind, from the carriage and pair,
the hansom and cab, down to the modest van. Pedestrians, too, were
numerous, and on the Govan Road the Vale of Clyde Tramway Company, with
extra cars, reaped a good harvest. On the way down, and in the field
itself, the usual good-natured banter was largely indulged in, and as
football enthusiasts, like the rest of impatient spectators, are only
human, they were in better temper at the start of the contest than was
the case at the finish. The meeting of the Queen's Park and Vale of
Leven, in fact, revived old times among the once brilliant players of
both clubs, many of whom were present on Saturday to "fight their
battles o'er again." "Dae ye ken," said an old man as the game
proceeded, "I wis present at old Hampden Park on the wet Hogmanay
afternoon long ago, when the Vale licked the Queen's by two to one in a
Cup tie, and I wish'd ye'd a' seen the Queen's Park committee men and
their supporters that day when the bare fac' wis kent. I'm thinkin' they
didna craw sae crouse, and maybe they'll get a fricht the noo." When the
Vale scored their goal a wag, primed with a fair-sized pocket pistol, no
doubt containing the best--well, every public-house salesman will tell
you at anyrate, it is the "best," and charge for it, too, as
"special"--began to lilt a verse of the popular pantomime song, "Their
funeral's to-morrow," hinting heavily about the decline and fall of the
Queen's Park. Many saw the point, and laughed; while others gave the
jolly fellow a look that betokened contempt and dismay. "Wait till the
second half," said a quiet supporter of the senior club, "and ye'll see
what they can dae; they're only making some fun." In pressing forward,
leaning against the pailings, were not a few critical rivet boys and
iron-workers, whose running comments were amusing in the extreme. Of
some young fellows who came down from the city dressed up in style, one
of the "black squad" was heard to say, "Don't they look blooming
'swells,' with their gloves and G.O.M. collars, and you wid think that
the whole landed property about is theirs, even to Ibrox Park itself.
Crush up, Bob. We've paid our money as well as the lot, and must get
share of the view. Crush up." "Man, jock, they've got a new ile for
training and rubbin' up the fitballers noo. It's whit they ca'
herbuline, and it keeps out the cauld and warms ye unca' much; but the
smell's sae strong that it nearly blin's ye." No doubt some kind of
specific was required on such a trying day as Saturday, for it was
indeed a clear case of illustrating the old adage, when exclusively
applied to man, about the survival of the fittest. There is this about
Ibrox Park, however, which certainly recommends it to the impartial
spectator--fine even turf, without a flaw, and no advantage even to the
home club itself when playing matches. It is well sheltered, and the
arrangements for the big crowd were ample, and well carried out by the
Rangers' committee and the Scottish Football Association, for whom Mr
John M'Dowall, the secretary, acted with much credit. The Govan
policemen (at least most of them) love a good game at football as dearly
as the old Highland landlady lo'ed a lord, and what is more, their
respected chief shows them a good example, as he is generally to be
found at Ibrox Park, in company with other burgh officials, when there
is a good thing on. The early editions of the evening papers were
largely in request, not by any means for the purpose of reading, as all
attention was directed to the game, and in the anxiety to see the
players before the contest began, but for the sole purpose of being "sat
on." The supply was soon exhausted, and one speculative newsboy, taking
in the situation at a glance, disappeared for a short time, but came up
smiling towards the grand stand ten minutes afterwards with a bundle of
brown paper wrappers, which he disposed of like penny pies at twopence
per sheet. The judges of the game had very difficult duties to perform,
and to their credit be it said they did the work without fear or favour,
and we are quite certain gave general satisfaction to the players. The
spectators, however, treated the unfavourable conditions of the
atmosphere with indifference, and even contempt, and long before the
time announced for the kick-off they crowded around the pailing and
surroundings to get a good view of the game. In consequence of the wet
weather very few ladies were present compared with what has turned out
at previous finals. The Vale of Leven emerged from the pavilion first,
and were well received. A few minutes afterwards came the Queen's Park,
who were also loudly cheered with cries of "Good old Q.P." The toss
between the two captains was watched with much earnestness, and when the
Leven team ranged themselves in front of the ball from the gate end, it
became apparent that they had won. The Queen's Park, by Hamilton, kicked
off against the wind, and a short run by Berry was successful in sending
the ball so near the Vale of Leven goal that one of the strangers put it
behind, and gave the Queen's Park a corner-flag kick. This was followed
by a close scrimmage, in which the ball came near Whitelaw, who sent it
down the field. A "foul," however, by Paton gave the Queen's Park a
lift, and in a second scrimmage the ball was again put behind the lines.
Another corner-flag kick was the consequence, and it took the Queen's
Park well in on goal, where the tackling was very severe. The ball again
bobbed about the posts, but the Vale men showed splendid back play on
the slippery ground, and sent it clear. After this Bruce and M'Millan
had a good run on the left for the Vale of Leven, and the former had a
shy that went past the left post. The kick out by Gillespie was followed
up by a steady run on the part of Allan, Berry, and Gulliland, and the
former shied wide past the right post. After the kick out, the Queen's
Park kept up the pressure, and it was some time before the ball emerged
from Vale of Leven territory, which it did from the foot of Rankin. Some
even play ensued, and then the Vale had a run by the right forwards,
and, in kicking clear, Arnott slipped a bit, and the ball, getting the
upper of his boot, rolled over the lines and gave the Vale of Leven a
corner-flag kick. It was taken by M'Lachlan, but he cut the distance too
fine, and the ball rolled harmlessly over the bar. In turn, Gillespie's
kick-out was followed by a run on the part of Sellar and Hamilton, and a
"hand" by one of the Vale of Leven backs gave Smellie a chance of doing
something with a free kick. It was very hard work, however, for both,
and the opinion began to gain ground that the team who could keep up
their stamina longest would be the winners. The ground, in fact, was a
bit treacherous, and in some cases when the ball landed, after a long
kick, it bounded clean over the heads of the backs, and some mis-kicks
now and again occurred. Seven minutes from half-time, the Vale men made
a smart spurt, and, after some clever passing, the ball was taken
possession of by M'Lachlan, who jumped in and headed it between the
posts--just a few inches from the right side--amid cheers and counter
cheers. The teams then faced up in the centre, and, from a good start,
the Queen's Park got up to their opponents' lines, and Berry just missed
the goal by a foot. After this the Vale of Leven had a good run down on
the Queen's Park lines, and a fast shy by Osborne was caught up and
punted out by Gillespie, and another immediately afterwards, from the
foot of Bruce, was cleared by Smellie. The half-time signal, however,
was given, leaving the Vale of Leven one goal ahead. The strangers had
now the kick-off, and made considerable use of it, for the forwards
backed up well, and a slip by one of the half-backs of the Queen's Park
gave the Vale of Leven a corner-flag kick. The ball was fairly managed,
but Bruce, who had it at his toe, was tackled by Smellie, and sent down
the field. The Queen's Park had now a brilliant turn at the Leven goal,
and several hard shies at the posts were cleverly returned by the backs.
The Queen's men, however, kept pressing on, and had a corner-flag kick,
which was taken by Sellar, and splendidly sent out by Wilson. The play
after this was straggling a bit, and falls were frequent in Vale of
Leven territory, but the Queen's men were very unlucky at goal, and
could not get the ball through--Gulliland, with a hard shy, only missing
by a shave. The ball eventually passed the Leven lines in a scrimmage
not long afterwards, and as it was put over by one of the defenders,
another corner-flag kick was the consequence. Time was now wearing on,
and do all they could, with hemming in their opponents and making
innumerable shies at goal, the Queen's Park could not score, and a
corner-flag kick did not mend matters. After this the Vale team improved
very much in their forward play, and M'Lachlan and Bruce again had a
fine run up the field, and as Arnott, in tackling, let the ball go over
the lines, the Leven team had a corner-flag kick. The shot from the
pavilion end was very well taken by one of the half-backs (M'Nicol), and
the Queen's Park goal had a narrow shave, as the ball was caught by
Robertson in the nick of time and cleared. The Queen's Park were soon at
it again, however, and not only drove their powerful opponents off, but
completely invaded their stronghold. Crowding round Allan, Berry,
Gulliland, Sellar, Hamilton, and even the Queen's half-backs had shies
at the Leven goal, but Wilson saved brilliantly. When time was drawing
to a close the excitement became very intense, and while the friends of
the Vale of Leven were jubilant and hopeful about the issue, the
partisans of the senior club, who came to see their favourites conquer,
were proportionately sad and crest-fallen. "They cannot do it now," said
a chorus of voices well up on the stand, "but see this, boys," remarked
an old football follower, as Arnott rolled up the sleeves of his jersey
with a determination which gave new life to the game; and as it has been
said frequently before that the Queen's Park can rise to a great
occasion, assuredly they did on Ibrox Park on Saturday. One minute or so
more and all would be over. Pressing their opponents very hard with
shots at goal, corner-flag kicks, scrimmages almost under the
goalkeeper's feet, they were again and again repulsed by grand work on
the part of Wilson, and as the ball emerged out of the pack after a free
kick it was sent a bit down the field towards the Queen's Park
half-backs. Here Bruce, the most prominent forward of the country club,
got possession, and was about to beat Stewart, when Arnott and Smellie
came to the rescue, and the ball was immediately sent back to the Vale
goal, where, after a terrible scrimmage, from a "free kick," it was put
between the posts by Smellie. The vision of a glorious victory for the
Q.P. had by that time faded away like a dream, and a crowd of the senior
club's followers had actually left Ibrox Park in disgust, when a
tremendous cheer burst forth from the ground signalling a point for the
Queen's Park, who had "turned" the doubtful day again. The scene which
followed was truly exciting. The Q.P. followers gave vent to their
strained feelings with an outburst of cheering which must have been
heard in some of the neighbouring police burghs, including Partick on
the other side of the river, while those of the Vale kept quiet in
disappointment. The teams then began the struggle anew, and from the
kick off the Vale of Leven men made a grand run up on the Queen's Park
goal, and had a couple of corner-flag kicks in succession, but the
Queen's Park backs sent the ball clear, and a few seconds afterwards the
whistle sounded, leaving one of the most remarkable games ever played in
the final tie for the Association Challenge Cup drawn, with one goal
all. The following are the teams that played in both games:--Queen's
Park--Goal, Gillespie; backs, Arnott and Smellie; half-backs, M'Ara,
Stewart, and Robertson; forwards, Gulliland, Berry, J. Hamilton, Allan,
and Sellar. Vale of Leven--Goal, Wilson; backs, Whitelaw and Murray;
half-backs, Osborne, M'Nicol, and Sharp; forwards, M'Lachlan, Rankin,
James Patton, Bruce, and M'Millan.
~Second Match.~
The destiny of the Challenge Cup has at length been decided for the
season, and the Queen's Park are the conquerors after one of the finest
games ever seen on Ibrox Park--the victory being the narrow one of two
goals to one. The game, it may be remembered, was drawn on the previous
Saturday, when each side had scored a goal, and, strange as it may seem,
the Queen's Park only saved themselves then, as they have done now,
towards the close of the contest, and converted what looked like a
defeat into a victory. Between 12,000 and 13,000 spectators were
present, and as the weather was fine the match was a most enjoyable one.
The cash drawn at the gate amounted to fully £600, and, as on the
previous meeting, will be equally apportioned among the two clubs and
the Association. The city cabbies made a day of it, and pocketed a good
round sum. They handled the ribbons with a dexterity which in some cases
was really alarming, and threatened the lieges with accident. "Drive us
to Ibrox Park, mind, in ten minutes, or we'll be late for the kick-off,"
and the promise of an extra sixpence did the business, although Jehu's
old friend and brother must be passed on the road. In some cases this
was overdone, and a horseless machine with only one wheel might have
been seen near Bellahouston Academy, awaiting "alterations and repairs,"
and on the same road some "spills" also occurred. The remarks round the
pavilion, stand, and approaches were, as usual, both instructive and
amusing, and let the impartial spectator know how the land lay, and the
kind of company he was for the moment keeping. All sorts and conditions
of men and boys were there to see the match. A hasty glance, in fact,
revealed the astonishing fact that nearly all classes in the country
were represented--city magnates, iron-masters, shipbuilders, ministers
of religion, doctors, schoolmasters, clerks, mechanics of all kinds, and
a much larger contingent of ladies than we have seen on any previous
occasion. From the cheers and counter cheers which greeted the
goal-scoring by the senior club it was apparent that their followers
were in the majority, but when the young Vale of Leven got the first
point, the cheers which followed showed that they had also a large
number of partisans, who honestly believed in the club's ability to win
the cup. In the first round, indeed, the Vale players showed much better
combination all over than the Q.P., and reminded many of the Vale of
yore. The second half, however, revealed the senior club at their best,
and from the manner in which they acted together and kept up their
staying powers, they really deserved to win. As we have already said,
the gossip among the spectators was both bright and original. A
demonstrative supporter of the senior club was rather personal with his
remarks, and was asked by a lover of the game, but not a partisan of
either club, to keep quiet "and not let everybody know he was a born
fool." "Oh! yes; it's all very fine, but the band at Alexandria 'ill no
play at the station yet: the Vale canna' win noo," said he, as the
Queen's team put the ball through a second time. A well dressed young
fellow on the stand near the press table was very funny, and if ever a
man enjoyed the game it was he. In the exuberance of his joy at the Q.P.
scoring, he danced on the little spot allotted to him on the stand, and
in doing so nearly overbalanced himself. "Ye'll be the better o' a half
yin after that narrow escape," said one of his friends, handing him a
bottle. After he had swallowed a fair amount of the liquor he stole a
hasty glance at the bottle, and found to his disgust he had been
drinking "The Vale of Leven blend." "It's a' richt," said his country
friend, "ye'll maybe need it a' yet; the Vale are not beaten the noo;
the Queen's man tak' anither goal before that occurs," and so they did.
"Oh! a' say," remarked a born East-Ender, for whom we are perfectly
certain the Clyde and Thistle, according to his self-importance at any
rate, had played their best on Barrowfield and Beechwood, "look at that;
it's no' fair to gie the Vale a free kick for that; it's the auld way;
gie't ta the yin that mak's the maist noise." "Yes," said another, who
looked every inch a dyer from the celebrated football county of
Dumbarton, and maybe the Vale of Leven district itself, "did ever ye see
the likes o' that, and frae sic a swell club, tae?" as Robertson bowled
over Bruce on the grass, and cleared the ball away. Wilson, the Vale of
Leven goalkeeper, came in for a fair share of praise; and so did Arnott,
Smellie, Sellar, Gulliland, and Gillespie for their brilliant play, but
many were in ecstacy about young Wilson. "His mither 'ill be a proud
woman the day when she kens how well he kept goal for the Vale; there's
nae doubt about it, Wilson's the coming man between the sticks for the
International on Hampden Park on 5th April next," said a red-faced man,
wearing a glengarry. Old and respected members of both clubs were again
present to cheer on their successors to victory, and we observed several
original members of the once-famous Clydesdale, including two who took
part in the first final tie for the cup on old Hampden Park. Several old
Rangers were present, too, who remembered well the series of exciting
matches played by them against the Vale of Leven, when no fewer than
three hard battles had to be fought before the destiny of the cup was
settled for the year. The sad news, too, was announced in the papers of
the sudden death of another famous forward (Mr. J. R. Wilson), who took
part in the first final tie between the Queen's Park and Clydesdale on
behalf of the latter club. Many of the "Old Brigade" viewed the contest
with mixed feelings. "You seem excited, Bob," said a friend to an old
Q.P., and no wonder; time is fleeting fast; the game will be done in a
quarter of an hour, and, dear me, the Queen's have not even scored. "Not
at all, not at all," said the Q.P. old player, tearing at his moustache
in a manner that threatened that hirsute appendage with instant
annihilation, "I think they will, at anyrate, make it a draw, for see
how they press the Vale now. Oh! they've done it; see that," as Hamilton
sent the ball between the posts. "The extra half-hour is sure to be
played now," said another, as the Vale of Leven men brought down the
ball to mid-field, and kicked off. There was, indeed, great excitement,
and as the Queen's Park again and again pressed their opponents, and
finally scored a second goal, it was a dozen times intensified, and the
subsequent play made the Q.P. men more bold and determined. The Vale of
Leven, as on the previous occasion, appeared in the field of play first,
and had a punt about with the ball for a few minutes, when their
opponents emerged from the pavilion and had some practice round the
upper goal, while the umpires and the referee were arranging the
preliminaries. The visitors won the toss, and played with what little
wind there was in their favour. Hamilton kicked off, and Berry followed
his forward companion, but Murray turned the ball, and M'Millan and
Bruce had a nice run, and caused the ball to get near the Queen's Park
goal, but Smellie caught it on the rise and sent it down the field. It
was taken up on the left side, and Sellar ended a brilliant run by
passing the leather fairly across the goal to Gulliland, and that player
made a rare shot at goal, but Wilson was on the alert, and caught the
ball very smartly, and sent it out. Here a close scrimmage was followed
by another shot on the part of Allan, but the ball went over the lines.
After the kick-out, the Vale of Leven men made a fine run up on the
Queen's Park goal, and M'Lachlan had a long shy that caused Gillespie to
throw away the ball in a hurry. The strangers played well together, and
had by far the best of it, and made the Q.P. backs work about as they
had never done before. Paton had another shy, and then the left outside
forward had one that came so close on the bar that Gillespie had again
to chuck out in double quick time. After this, Gulliland had a fast run
down the field, and ended the run with a parting shot that went past on
the right post. Some even play then occurred, but the Leven forwards
manoeuvred together better than those of the Queen's Park, and a fine
piece of passing by Sharp, Osborne, and Bruce ended by the latter making
a shy that touched the tips of Gillespie's fingers and went through the
goal, close to the post. The point was so smartly made that it fairly
took away the breath from the Queen's Park friends, and caused the faces
of the supporters of the country club to beam with delight, while the
cheering for the then successful team was long and loud. The players
then faced up in mid-field and renewed the battle, and not very long
thereafter the Queen's Park gained their first corner-flag kick, but it
was a poor one for Sellar, and the ball was soon cleared away by the
Vale of Leven backs. The Queen's team, however, kept well in front of
their opponents' goal, and another corner-flag kick was succeeded by an
exciting scrimmage, and then a shy by Gulliland was cleverly cleared
away by Wilson. When half-time came, however, the Leven men were
swarming round the Q.P. posts. The contest was then renewed in terrible
earnest, and the Queen's Park, with one goal against them, had the wind
in their favour now. The Vale of Leven, however, had the kick-off, but
the ball was at once returned by M'Ara, and the Queen's Park found
themselves right in front of the Leven goal, where one of the backs
fouled the ball close on the right post. The shy was taken by Allan,
and the ball hit the bar, but after an exciting scrimmage it was cleared
by the Vale backs. The Queen's Park, however, were soon on it again, and
the next five minutes' play was nearly disastrous to the Leven team, as
no fewer than five corner-flag kicks were given to the Queen's Park, in
consequence of kicking behind on the part of Leven men. The defence,
however, was excellent, and by slow degrees the ball was worked clear,
and M'Lachlan had a run down on the Glasgow club's goal, where the
whistle of the referee told the spectators that the dashing forward was
off-side. He did not seem to hear the whistle a bit, but coolly went up
to the Queen's Park posts and kicked the ball through without the least
opposition. The kick-out in front was followed by a fine run on the part
of Gulliland and Berry, but Whitelaw managed to tackle the Q.P. young
forward, and the ball was soon sent back. It did not go far, however,
for the Q.P. forwards kept it among them for a time. The Leven men had
now a good run on the left by Sharp, and Stewart sent the ball behind
his own goal. Rankin took the corner-flag kick, but Arnott got on the
leather in an instant, and sent it spinning up the field by one of his
famous returns. From this point till the call of time the Queen's Park
were fairly in it, and played, perhaps, as they had never done before.
Defeat stared them in the face, and the game was fast drawing to a
close. Barely a quarter of an hour and the destiny of the cup would be
settled. As on the previous Saturday, however, the Queen's men played
worthy of a great occasion, and won the trophy. Pressing their opponents
up on the goal, they kept them there for a time, and although the ball
was seen to go out and in among the shoal of busy feet a few yards from
the posts, Wilson and the backs cleared brilliantly. At length, however,
Allan had a corner-flag kick, which was managed so neatly that Hamilton
got the ball in a good position and headed it through. This gave new
life to the senior club and their supporters, and the cheering was again
renewed when a few minutes after the next kick-off the Queen's Park
drove the Vale team before them, and again had hot work near Wilson. The
Queen's half-backs, who had hitherto not acted so well together in the
earlier stages of the game, metaphorically speaking, "came out of their
shells," and, along with the forwards, took an active part in the siege.
Shots were aimed thick and fast at the goalkeeper, and at length
Stewart, with a shooter, sent the ball spinning through, making the
second goal for the Queen's Park. The teams then faced up in the centre,
and the tremendous cheering which greeted the scoring of the second goal
had scarcely died away when the Vale team made one last but brilliant
effort to equalise, but they were driven on by Smellie and Arnott, and
at length the whistle sounded, leaving the Queen's Park the winners of a
match in every way worthy of the final tie for the Challenge Cup by two
goals to one. Although the strain now and again was pretty heavy on the
players when at close quarters, the contest all through was conducted in
the most friendly way, and showed a marked contrast to some final ties
played a few years ago. It may also be mentioned that the premier club
have not held the trophy since 1885-86, when they defeated Renton by
three goals to one; but of the seventeen matches played in the final the
Queen's Park have carried off no fewer than nine, while the Vale come
next with three.
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End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Scottish Football Reminiscences and
Sketches, by David Drummond Bone
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