19 August 1950 Tottenham Hotspur 1 Blackpool 4
Great start to the season
SPURS BEATEN
Tottenham Hotspur 1, Blackpool 4
By “Clifford Greenwood”
AN HOUR AND A HALF BEFORE A NEW FOOTBALL SEASON WAS BORN IN LONDON THIS AFTERNOON THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE WERE SWARMING IN THE NARROW BOTTLENECK STREETS WHICH RADIATE FROM THE SPURS’ STADIUM AT WHITE HART-LANE.
When the Blackpool team reached the ground soon after two o’clock there were 40,000 inside the gates.
Outside them queues hundreds of yards in length, shuffled through the pay boxes, marshalled by a regiment of mounted police.
It had the atmosphere of a minor Wembley. Such I suppose it was for the Spurs, who were playing in First Division football for the first time for 15 years after winning the Second Division title by nine points last season.
They were fielding the men who only a few months ago were being hailed as the team of the century.
Closing the gates
Blackpool played the 11 selected by Manager Joe Smith two days ago.
They were soon reporting closed gates, and to the Press box gave bulletins that in the streets there was the familiar congestion which prefaces matches at this mammoth enclosure, with traffic at a standstill for half a mile beyond the turnstiles, which, according to latest reports, were being shuttered one after another.
NEARLY 70,000
Early in the afternoon the record attendance of 70,302 for the Southampton game last season was being approached and there were prospects that the England-Italy game figures of 71,797 might be equalled.
Such is the magic of football, even in mid-August and on a day, too, which after early morning
Showers was as hot as the first day of a football season nearly always is, with scarcely a breath of wind escaping into a monstrous suntrap of a ground which has stands towering beyond all its four walls.
I have been told that the pitch was fit to play bowls on. It looked it too, emerald green, everywhere, with not a semblance of a bare patch scarring its surface.
DONALD THE DUCK
Awaiting me in the Press box was a telegram from the Atom Boys’ chief, Syd Bevers, containing the news that the famous duck was in town and was to be presented to the vast multitude before the kick-off.
And so it was to the familiar hullaballoo with 35 minutes still to go. Then, unexpectedly, rain fell in torrents on the thousands in the open terraces who everywhere, as it continued, began to improvise rain helmets out of newspapers.
I heard that watching the match was football’s problem forward, Billy Steele, who had come to the ground after yet another conference with the Leyton Orient directors.
Teams:
TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR: Ditchburn; Ramsey, Withers; Nicholson, Clarke, Burgess; Walters, Bennett, Duquemin, Baily, Medley.
BLACKPOOL: Farm; Shimwell, Wright (J); Johnston, Hayward, Kelly; Matthews, McCall, Mortenson, W. J. Slater, Wardle.
Referee: Mr. T. W. Rand, of Durham.
THE GAME
First half
The ’Spurs came out into the sunshine which soon followed the rain to the sort of reception reserved for conquering heroes. Blackpool were given too or three three big cheers which always greet the teams in a City which has its hundreds of exiles from the seaside in it.
I was told that the automatic register at the turnstiles had recorded 65,000 fifteen minutes before the kick-off.
For whatever it was worth, which was little, the Spurs won the toss.
They were off on time to a pace which was sheer madness and which, for a few minutes, seemed intent primarily on establishing a new land speed record.
SLATER’S GUILE
Unexpectedly, it was not the Spurs who were the first to build a raid, for directly from the kick-off the subtle footcraft of Bill Slater enabled the amateur to outwit three men in less than 10 yards before crossing out to an open left wing a pass which Wardle lost.
There was a free kick for the Spurs in the next half minute and a lot of raging excitement.
In the next minute Stanley Matthews strolled elegantly into the game, racing with a long pass to the comer flag, permitting his full back to gallop past him, and in the end almost leisurely crossing a ball which the tall, vigilant Clarke headed away from the waiting Mortenson.
MORTENSEN
Takes flying nose dive at Matthews’s pass
In all the fire, ferocity and fury of this early football it was Blackpool who were playing the ordered football and playing it to a right wing which was too often neglected last season.
Again the elusive Matthews revealed a pace which a few of his critics said he had lost, waited for Withers’ tackle again, swerved away from it, reached the line and flighted over a centre which Mortensen, hurling himself at it in a flying nose dive, headed inches over the bar.
This was not at all according to programme. Blackpool had commanded three of the first five minutes which it had been assumed the fast direct Spurs would monopolise.
“THE DUKE”
Yet in the sixth minute, after Johnston had made one slow- motion overhead clearance without being able to repulse a smash-and-grab raid, Farm had to race, out and make a high jump championship leap to snatch a flying centre away from that tall, alert opportunist from the Channel Islands, called Len Duquemin on his birth certificate, and “The Duke” by the population of Tottenham.
Four free-kicks in the first nine minutes were given against 'Spurs' defence, closely protecting its goal, but nearly all the time in retreat against a Blackpool forward line playing a blueprint of neat constructive passes.
Twice in a couple of minutes Spurs pelted pell mell into the offside trap and after the first of the decisions Mr. Rand decided that the ball required inspection, solemnly inspected it and ordered another.
BREAKS THROUGH
With the new ball, too, the Spurs began to appear a little less unimpressive than they had been. Ron Burgess cut through on his own from his wing half position and shot wide.
Two minutes later, in the 15th minute of the half, Bennett discovered himself with the first big chance which had offered itself.
He took a forward pass into a unmarked position, and, as the deserted Farm advanced to meet him, shot a bouncing ball slowly side of a post as 65,000 said, “Oh-oh-oh,” in despair.
There were signs as these raids built themselves up into the dimensions of an offensive that the Spurs’ forward machine was at last beginning to operate according to the familiar straight-for-goal formula.
Several raids had been halted by a Blackpool defence, as fast into the tackle as ever, before, in the 18th minute, the Blackpool goal nearly fell.
There was a raid on the right. Walters rolled a pass inside. Duquemin was waiting for it, reached it a split second before Jackie Wright could tackle him and shot from a narrow angle a ball which Farm fielded with a complete confidence.
JOHNSTON’S JOY
Leaps into the air as ball enters net
Two minutes later Blackpool went in front for a first goal of the season which came out of the text books.
It was a superb glittering Matthews who made it. On to a pass the outside-right pounced, held it a split second near the halfway line, eluded the tackle of Withers, raced down the line, and when the full-back came thundering after him allowed him to reach him and audaciously steered the ball between the fullback’s legs.
That left him in an open position
I could hear HARRY JOHNSTON calling for the pass, saw him waiting for it as it came, saw him hit it as it crossed him and leap high in the air with joy as the ball curled away from the leaping Ditchburn's left hand into the near top corner of the net.
It was about 50-50 afterwards for a time. Twice the bouncing, skidding ball eluded Mortensen in a shooting position, the first time from a Kelly pass which split the Spurs' defence wide open.
GREAT TACKLE
In front of the other goal a great sliding tackle by Hayward, competently holding a watching brief in the field’s centre, took away from Walters a ball, which the wing forward was preparing to shoot into the gaping net.
And in front of the ’Spurs’ goal Matthews eventually had a shot, too, and of such pace that it cannoned back off a massed defence I heard a customer in the centre stand demand, “Who said he couldn’t shoot?”
THE PACE
It was as hot as the early afternoon
Incidents came thick and fast afterwards in a pace still as hot as the afternoon had begun.
In the 30th minute there was at last a shot by a Spurs’ forward which had a trace of the old dynamite in it, Baily disdaining a pass to his waiting centre forward before shooting a ball which Farm reached in a dive to his left before snatching it up from the boots of the advancing Duquemin
BLACKPOOL’S No. 2
A minute earlier No. 2 for Blackpool was near, as Mortensen, alert for a chance, took half of one, hitting almost off a full-back’s foot a ball which cannoned off another man, crawled away from Ditchburn and was stopped half a yard off an empty goal line by the desperate Clarke with the Spurs defence in utter confusion.
It was in any case only a goal deferred, for in the 32nd minute Blackpool made it 2-0 with the sort of goal which I seldom saw a Blackpool forward score in 1949-50.
This time it was a two-man foray by McCall and Mortensen down the centre. Two swift passes were interchanged.
MORTENSEN took the third one from the little inside-right, hit it fast and low before a fullback could cross his path, watched it pass the falling Ditchburn at the pace of a bullet from a gun - the sort of swift, unexpected shot which no goalkeeper on earth could have one anything about.
DESPERATE
The rest of the half was almost inevitably in Blackpool’s half of the field with the Spurs’ pressing desperately, and still so often either missing the last pass or catapulting into the offside trap that they began to barrack for a minute or two with the slow hand clap in the centre stand.
During this pressure, which five minutes from half-time produced the first corner of the half, I saw Shimwell make a succession of daring brilliant clearances, saw, too, Hayward head out a ball which had “goal” written on it, and Farm, twice in rapid succession, hit up into the air and held as they fell, thunderbolt shots released at him.
A second corner came in this hammer-and-tongs bid to reduce the lead - a bid which was still raging as the half-time whistle went, with Burgess flinging himself at a low centre and heading it barely 'wide of a post.
A grand half, fast, dramatic, with nearly everything in it.
Half-time: Tottenham H. 0, Blackpool 2,
SECOND HALF
It all seemed curiously quiet, almost eventless, after the excitement of the first half.
Nothing of any particular consequence happened at all for a couple of minutes with both defences repelling two forward lines who, after the tempestuous pace of the opening 45 minutes, appeared almost listless.
It may have been the calm before the storm. I was told that always the Spurs wanted watching in the game’s last half hour.
Yet, to be frank, there were few signs for a long time of this storm rising, and in fact, not until nearly five minutes had gone was there an incident with a trace of drama in it.
THUNDERBOLT SHOT
Then, Duquemin, who had been as often all the afternoon in the offside trap as he had been out of it, raced into it again and with the referee noticing the linesman’s signal a fraction late, was allowed to thunder on and shoot against Farm’s knees a ball which cannoned almost to the halfway line off them.
That was in the fourth minute of the half. In the fifth Blackpool were nearer to a goal, which would have made it 3-0 and probably settled the game .
And this time it was a halfback who shot the ball which nearly counted, Hugh Kelly cutting in fast to take a loose ball and almost brushing a post with a shot which the unsighted Ditchburn never saw as he dived perceptibly late to it.
Still, for minutes afterwards, it was all the Spurs, who, desperately seeking to retrieve a position which was rapidly becoming critical, were firing on all four cylinders at last, but often still impetuously galloping into the offside snare.
There came a curious incident in the 11th minute of the half. Five minutes earlier Mortensen had been laid low - the game’s first casualty in spite of all its blood and thunder - and for a minute had been under the trainer’s attention.
COLLAPSED
Nobody, I think, was watching him as a Tottenham raid was being built half the field away until a ’Spurs’ full-back was seen bending over him and calling for the referee.
There was every indication that he had collapsed, probably a case of delayed concussion, and after another minute’s first aid, off the field he went leaning on trainer Lynas’s shoulder, shaking his head as if dazed.
That left Blackpool with a four-man forward line, unexpectedly led by Bill Wardle. But only for a couple of minutes were Blackpool understrength.
Then back came Mortensen to watch for a time his defence in another of those last ditch actions which were part of Blackpool’s repertoire last season, with Farm twice brilliantly in action.
LEAD REDUCED
Then in spite of one foray by Mortensen which ended in the centre-forward shooting at a great pace across the face of the Spur’s goal, the lead was reduced in the 21st minute of the half as for a quarter of an hour it had seemed almost inevitable that it would be.
And when the goal came it was a good one. The Spurs’ two wing half-backs made it with one of those square crossfield passes which can often open out a defence.
Bennett took the forward pass which followed the familiar manoeuvre, took it in the inside-left position, crossed it to the inside-right, where BAILY was waiting, and left the Spurs’ forward to shoot a goal with a shot which even the diving Farm could not reach.
Twenty-four minutes to go. Sixty-five thousand people were thundering the Spurs on. Rain was beginning to fall in sheets. And the Spurs were tearing in minute after minute for another goal.
SPURS
They were all out for that equaliser
It was all set for one of those dramatic retreats which won Blackpool so many points last season. Blackpool escaped now and again.
In one of these breakaways Johnston, who was hungry for goals today, nearly shot another from 20 yards, almost grazing the far post with a flying ball, which not even the giant Ditch- burn could have reached.
That, however, was only an interlude in an all-out Spurs bid.
Twelve minutes left and the storm was beginning to blow itself out. Eleven minutes remained and No. 3 goal came for Blackpool. A curious goal it was.
And again it was a half-back who scored it. There was a protracted Blackpool raid. A loose ball came out. KELLY was in position for it, shot it back. The ball rose, hit the bar, bounced on to the post, curled back behind Ditchburn, was cleared.
The referee waved “play on” consulted a linesman whose flag was lifted and gave a goal which settled everything.
In the last minutes from Matthews’ pass JOHNSTON made it 4-1 for Blackpool with a brilliant shot which took Ditchburn unawares.
Official attendance 64,978.
Result:
TOTTENHAM 1 (Baily 66 mins)
BLACKPOOL 4 (Johnston 20, 89, Mortensen 32, Kelly 79 mins)
COMMENTS ON THE GAME
Blackpool, who could not take chances last season, took them today. Opportunism took points and deserved them.
Blackpool had great right wing in first half with Matthews superb.
All match two wing half-backs, Johnston and Kelly, were stars.
Defence massed in its old compact formation under Spurs' pressure after interval, with Shimwell grimly resolute at close quarters and Farm a great goalkeeper.
GOALS are often in short supply (as they say in Whitehall) whenever Burnley and Charlton Athletic come to Blackpool.
I expect there will be few again on Monday, when Burnley are in town for an evening match (6-30) and when the London team visit the coast on Saturday afternoon (3-30), writes Clifford Greenwood.
Defences have had the answer to all the problems the forward-lines may have presented in Blackpool’s postwar matches with these teams.
Burnley have been three times to Blackpool in postwar days. The first time the Turf Moor men won 1-0.
The second time a 1-I draw was played.
Last season - a Christmas match - the team that these days is managed by Mr. Frank Hill, the ex-Arsenal forward who captained Blackpool’s last promotion team, lost 2-0, but offered a Gibraltar of a defence even in defeat.
Burnley have the forwards who can score. So, in theory, have Blackpool. But they seldom seem able to in Blackpool-Burnley games.
So it is, too, with the Charlton matches. It was 0=0 in 1946-47; 3-1 for Blackpool in 1947-48, which was almost a goal-rush in these games; 1-0 for Charlton in 1948-49; and 2-0 for Blackpool last season.
Anything can happen in football, but if a lot of goals happen in these two engagements at Blackpool it will blow the form book higher than the Tower.
BLACKPOOL GROUSE SEASON IS NOW ABOUT TO START
But it is not easy to 'buy the players wanted
By Clifford Greenwood
SPORTS SNAPSHOTS
BY "CLIFFORD GREENWOOD" 19 August 1950
HE'S BACK IN HIS NATIVE SOUTH AFRICA
LATEST news at Bloomfield-road is that Gordon Falconer, who decided to return home during the summer, is already back in Johannesburg and already playing in South African football again.
A cultured footballer, this young South African. And yet after a few months in England he realised that he was taking too long Gordon Falconer to accustom' himself to the pace of the game in this country and reluctantly, but probably wisely, he decided to go back to a land where there was still a business post open to him, and where, presumably, he could revert to his amateur status.
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MR. JAMES HOUSTON, of St. Annes, cannot complain that there is no variety in his early season assignments.
During the first week of this new football year he will have matches in three Divisions of the League.
Today his appointment was the Notts County-Coventry City match which reintroduced “Tommy Lawton United,” as the County are called, to Second Division football.
On Wednesday he will be up at Newcastle for the visit of West Bromwich Albion to St. James’s Park.
And next Saturday he is at Barrow for the Oldham Athletic game in the Northern Section.
Hie day is rapidly approaching when Jim Houston will be ranking among England’s first half-dozen referees. His advance in the game since the war has been as remarkable as it has been deserved.
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GOOD luck to Eric Sibley in his first managerial post in Lytham. This full-hack is one of football's gentlemen. They sang his swan song for him after the war, but he played himself into Blackpool’s First Division team - the team, by the way, whose 1946-47 aggregate of 50 points remains a record -and held one of the full-back positions until the season’s last month.
Since then he has been at Grimsby and Chester. His knowledge of the game and his intelligent approach to it qualify him for the position he now holds at Ballam road
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TWO players who have been on Blackpool’s staff since the war are to play with Warton United, the enterprising Fylde League club, this season.
One is Michael Johnson, the inside forward who was given a trial last season at Bloomfield-road, went to Burnley for another trial later, but was retained by neither club
The other is the former Lytham forward, Eddie Medcalf who had several games with Blackpool “A” and “B” during the early months of last season.
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W J - SLATER, Blackpool’s amateur international, has completed his course at Leeds Training College, graduating with distinction.
One result may be that he will be free to play frequently for Blackpool this season.
But he will remain a college student for another 12 months while he is qualifying for a physical training instructor’s certificate.
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WHETHER Derek Lewin, the young forward from St. Annes, will make the grade at Blackpool time alone can establish.
But he showed great promise in one of the trial games even when he was fielded at wing-half, and in the Army, from which he was recently demobilised, he had an impressive record.
It is a long time since Lytham St. Annes supplied Blackpool with a star. The last was Johnny Crosland. Derek Lewin may be the next in the line.
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