Meiklejohn pen 55
B McPhail 68
Match Information
Attendance: 118,115
Referee: W Bell (Motherwell)
Matchday: Saturday
Match Trivia
Beaten to a frazzle! There has been no more decisive victory in a Scottish Cup final for many years than that if Rangers over Celtic at Hampden yesterday. Anyone with the least discernment, surveying the efforts of Celtic to utilise the wind in the first half of the game, and observing their impotence against a sterling Ibrox defence, must have been convinced at the interval that Rangers had a ten-to-one chance of carrying back the trophy for which they have struggled since 1903. When Rangers set off with the breeze in their favour after the interval, they revealed a very much greater tactical sense than the celts had displayed. It will only be a matter of minutes, one felt, till Rangers open the scoring, and when once they do, we said, Celtic will be thoroughly whacked. You will read my opinion of the incident that led up to the granting of the penalty award, which Meiklejohn converted. But even if this unsatisfactory judgment had not been delivered, Rangers would have won handsomely, as they caged the Parkhead defenders, and in the end toyed with them, almost as merrily as the Scottish eleven toyed with the English team at Wembley a fortnight ago. In criticising the players, I must first concentrate on the two players who, I consider, were the most serviceable to Rangers. O pick out Andew Cunningham and Bob Hamilton. Not often has Andrew been a power in the important Cup ties in which he has been engaged. Yesterday he was just about the most energetic man on the field. Now he was operating on his own wing, next minute he was in Bob McPhail’s place, combining fluently with Morton; and all the time he used his head in both a mental and a physical sense! Bob Hamilton was simply splendid. The young Hamilton almost invariably took accurate position, and his quick dashed to get to the ball before Connolly or Alex Thomson got possession spiked the guns of the Celtic right wing pair. Tom Hamilton saved brilliantly now and again, but he presented two or three chances when he failed to clutch hot shots. Dougie Gray did the right thing when he concentrated on Adam McLean. McInally didn’t require much watching, as he seldom manoeuvred ‘on his own’, preferring to transfer quickly whenever he got possession. Only in the first half hour did McInally swing the ball dangerously about. McGrory was practically starved, and in any case Meiklejohn, one of the stars of the game, had him well ‘taped’. Buchanan and Craig paid their way. All the Ibrox forwards were in tip-top form. Fleming, as I anticipated, pain more attention to the job of harassing the Celtic defence than to individualistic efforts at scoring. Archibald, McPhail and Morton contributed their quota to the convincing victory. Celtic puzzled me. They hadn’t half the pep that characterised their teams in bygone years. McLean wasn’t bad – but he wasn’t brilliant. And no other forward sparkled. Peter Wilson seldom was in the picture. McFarlane worked hard. So did Jimmy McStay, but the Netherton lad seemed rattled in the second half. Willie McStay I was sorry for. He tried to do two men’s work and found the burden too heavy. Young Donoghue must bot be blamed. He did well in trying circumstances. The best man in the team was John Thomson – yet he had to acknowledge defeat for times! Rangers were set a hard task at the outset, as they were compelled to face a stiff breeze, but they steadied even when Celtic threatened danger and occasionally in the early stages the Ibrox forwards succeeded in making ground. Indeed, had the wind been less tricky, McPhail or Morton might have opened the scoring, as the left wing did find means of working up to the bye-line. John Thomson, however, was not asked to do more than watch Morton’s finishing effort go weakly past. Celtic’s retort kept the Rangers defence on the stretch for a time. McInally slipped a few well-directed passes forward, but undertook the mission of guarding McLean, with the result that the inside forwards seldom received the head-high crosses that the nippy left winger usually delivers. That the wind was not to be such a beneficial factor as was at first thought, we realised when Connolly sent a corner kick yards behind the goal. Yet the Celtic lads retained the initiative and hammered the Ibrox defence without, however, troubling Hamilton. Then the ‘Light Blues’ broke away. A corner kick beautifully placed by Alan Morton was followed by disjointed movement in front of John Thomson, who appeared to me to be lucky in getting a second chance to clear from the efforts of Fleming and McPhail. Up to this stage one man who was certainly not in the limelight – James McGrory – stood idle, awaiting even one direct pass. The Rangers right wing pair were also out of the picture until Andrew Cunningham wandered away to the left, and in conjunction with Morton gave us the best movement of the game. The little winger, finding his road to the bye-line blocked, meandered across towards the right, and was eventually brought to earth by Jimmy McStay. Then Cunningham flashed into prominence again. And instead of shooting from what seemed convenient position he transferred to Morton, whose cross Fleming headed wide. We longed for thrills. Not one genuine tremor warmed our blood, but Pat Connolly executed a movement that promised well. The outside right drove in an oblique shot that would probably have eluded nine keepers out of ten. Tom Hamilton dived out and deflected the ball – to Adam McLean’s vicinity. The outside left shot wildly over. Celtic were by no means holding the whip hand. There was not the least sparkle in their play. Even a long drive by McInally went soaring harmlessly over. Cunningham on the contrary, came more and more into the picture. He showed astonishing virility, and when on one occasion he made position and sent Archibald clear away with a perfect slip up the wing, we had visions of the opening goal. John Donoghue, however, overtook the winger, and so intervened as to prevent Sandy’s low cross from going clear to its objective – a position convenient to the tow of the waiting and well-placed Fleming. Archibald, Fleming and Cunningham shared the honours of the next movement. Fleming worked to the bye line on the right, looked round, and snicked the ball back towards Cunningham. The Galston man shot, but with his right, and even if the ball had travelled past the defenders to Thomson, the keeper would have had little difficulty in stopping it. Impoverished indeed in the circumstances, was the play of the Parkhead fellows. Not one cut wing movement; not one well-placed lob from Connolly or McLean, not one accurately placed slip up the centre from either Alex Thomson or Tom McInally. The backs and half-backs prompted faithfully, but the forward line was not the forward line to which we are accustomed. From Adam McLean we at last got a great solo effort. Yet his finishing shot – with his right foot – went low to Tom Hamilton, who foozled, and only retrieved the ball after Tom McInally had dashed in and got his tow to it just as the keeper dived. Next minute Hamilton dropped a hot ball from Alex Thomson, and completely unnerved his colleagues, who expected him to clutch cleanly. The Ibrox keeper earned no laurels in these incidents. When pressure from the Parkhead lads developed, Bob Hamilton entered the fray with considerable éclat. He it was who kept the Celtic right at bay. Though Connolly succeeded in getting his head to a likely cross he was unable to turn it in towards Hamilton, and when the interval arrived Rangers were sound favourites. Yet Celtic were the first to assume the aggressive. They found the adverse wind a help in ball control, and but for the watchfulness of Gray and R Hamilton would probably have caused the keeper Hamilton not a little uneasiness. Rangers, however, gradually took a grip. Jimmy McStay gave us a pointer when he spooned the ball over his own bye line, and John Thomson, after picking up a shot from Alan Morton, also conceded a corner when his intention was to punt up field to his comrades. Then Willie McStay booted past. And altogether it looked as if the Celtic defence were to ‘get it in the neck’. Unfortunately for Rangers, neither Archibald nor Morton could gauge the wind. It must have been galling for their colleagues to see corner kicks go yards behind. For ten minutes before Rangers scored Celtic were hemmed in their own half. McGrory and Connolly alone remained in their accustomed position. The other forwards lay away back, check by jowl with the backs. The goal that did come at last will be the subject of discussion for many a day. In my opinion Fleming’s drive, from close in, was past John Fleming and over the line before Willie McStay, who rushed across the goal, palmed it neatly out. Referee Bell did the right thing when he consulted his linesman, so vital was his final decision likely to be. He awarded a penalty. Had he awarded a goal, I should be prepared to approve of his decision. David Meiklejohn placed the ball on the spot. “Who’ll take the kick?” we asked. The responsibility was undoubtedly great. Davie shouldered it. As coolly as if he were potting a red dead in line with a gaping pocket, he advanced and smashed the ball low into the net. Try as they would, Celtic simply could not get out of the toils. John Thomson saved shot after shot. But it wasn’t in shooting alone that the Light Blues shone. They had remarkable spirit in the outfield and Kept the Celtic defenders on the run all the time. A demoralised lot were the Parkhead boys even before Rangers scored the second goal. Fleming and McHail both had a try when an Archibald cross landed in the goal-mouth. Bob put the finishing touch on. Archibald made the score three with a brilliant shot that Thomson did very well to get his hands to. The pace and the foot-high flight, however, were too difficult to judge, and the young Celt had to acknowledge defeat. Sandy Archibald threw his hands in the air and executed the sort of fling that Charlie Thomson once did when he scored a great goal for Scotland on the same pitch. Rangers now moved with the freedom of a victorious team, and Celtic laboured dispiritedly. I have never seen the famous Green-and- White lads so blotted out in a Cup-tie. No one on the side had the least idea how to solve the problem set them in that remarkable second half. Even Willie McStay seemed downhearted. He gave away corner cheaply, and cleared uncertainly, though occasionally he robbed McPhail and Fleming in taking style. Archibald’s fourth goal – his own second – was quite the best of the lot. He got his chance after Fleming had attempted to accelerate a pass from behind. The ball struck McStay and sailed away out to Archibald. The winger trapped the ball took a steady stance and then ‘let fly’. What a shot it was! Thomson didn’t appear to see it. Past his face it flashed into the far corner of the net. That finished the scoring. Celtic were beaten ‘to the wide’.
