Thomson >45
T Cairns
Match Information
Attendance: 60,000
Referee: Peter Craigmyle (Aberdeen)
Matchday: Tuesday
Match Trivia
We had to wait at Parkhead for the real thrills, but they were worth waiting for. For nearly an hour the Celts had a decided pull, and when Thomson rammed a Connelly ball past Robb early in the second half a Celtic triumph seemed assured. But no! The Ibrox fellows warmed up a bit and Cairns, catching up a Cunningham pass from a free-kick just outside the penalty area, deftly lifted the ball over Shaw’s outstretched body into the net. Twenty-seven minutes of ‘the 90’ remained, and what grand play we saw before the finish. Celts got ahead again, the Light Blues once more neutralised their lead, and the result was just what it should have been. In saying this I’m not forgetting that hard graft put in by the Celts and the pull they had on the first ‘45’. They had chances sufficient to have given them a two-goal lead. Against that there must be placed that late Rangers’ revival. They gave of their best then. About midway through the half McCandless upended Gallagher within the box, and Willie McStay smashed the ball home from the spot. There was no dubiety about the justice of the award. Mr Craigmyle might, I thought, have penalised Manderson in similar fashion a few minutes earlier for holding McLean. ‘Wee Adam’ was so incensed at being pulled down when going through, and he rushed after the man in charge to enter his protest. But all was forgotten when Patsy’s penalty came alone. The ‘mighty atom’ was being attended over the line when Willie McStay stepped up to pluck the ball into the net. Then the real Rangers. Until now Cairns, Morton and Archibald had been no better than just so-so. In a glorious closing fifteen minutes Celtic, I thought, made the grievous mistake of ‘lying back’. They wanted to hold what they had and couldn’t. Their game was to carry the war into the enemy’s camp. They blundered against surely as plucky a lot of fellows as ever sported light blue. Cairns, seemingly leg weary, now became the true Tommy. He scampered down the field and gave Morton the passes he had been patiently witing for, and Archibald also took a tumble to himself. Alec seemed to make up his mind now that McFarlane and Hilley were not unbeatable giants. At any rate, ‘the Fifer’ went off on his own not once but several times. With only five minutes to go, he picked up a Cunningham pass and set off at full steam, to find a drive – a grounder – blocked before it reached Shaw. But this was only a sort of ‘trial trip’. Sixty seconds later ‘Archie’ found himself in the self-same position. Away he sped again, and rounding a couple of Celts had the ball whizzing into the net. I fancy the most surprised man on the field was Charley Shaw. Yes, it was thrilling finish – the sides were level again. Where the Celts had the most pull was in the middle. Johnston lacked Muirhead’s driving power and craft; the occasion may have been too big for him. Young Connelly, who was keeping Andy McAtee’s place warm, made a rattling fine partner for Gallagher. Acting to instructions, I thought, Paddy wasted no time in getting the ball into the centre. Some of his crosses were a trifle too square, but his way of doing things gave Dixon and Co no end of worry. Cassidy, always in his place, more often than not was outnumbered when he tried to break through on his own. Joe’s mistakes were in the shooting department. Twice he should have covered a lot more ground before Shooting; his thirty-yard range drives were too easily dealt with by Willie Robb. Thomson put in a lot of effective work, but McLean failed to show his recent sparkle. Adam, more or less smothered by Bert Manderson, only occasionally got round the Irishman. Gallagher, in fine fettle, was not long in discovering Johnston’s weakness. Some of Patsy’s mazy runs fairly tickled the crowd at the pavilion end. But although it was pretty much Celtic in the first half, much of their outfield brilliance was nullified when it came to shooting. Why, Robb didn’t get a quarter of the trouble he should have. With Rangers nothing would go right. If they had a plan of action it miscarried. There was no punch in the middle; the trio gave little or no assistance to the attack. To make matters worse Cairns and Morton could not get going. Tommy’s passes to the wing were usually short or steamy, and Alan was more or less left out in the cold. Once McNair miskicked. The ball reached Alan’s toe, but, even from six yards’ range, he shot weakly past. This was one of the few chances that came his way until near to the finish. McNair was easily the master of the situation; indeed, Alec was a cut ahead of all the other backs. His kicking was sound. He was polish and cuteness themselves. Andrew Cunningham never despaired of bringing his men along. He plugged away with unceasing determination, and, if he ploughed a sort of lonely furrow for nearly an hour, he ha the satisfaction of finding his work yielding fruit. The Rangers have Andrew to thank much for keeping that cherished record intact. He was the one ‘Light Blue’ to give Shaw any ‘hard warming’ exercise in the first half. It was he who enabled Cairns to banh on the first equaliser. With Celtic doing so much of the attacking in the earlier period, Robb and his backs were glad to get the ball away by hook or by crook, but as I have already pointed out, the Parkhead forwards had not many shots in their locker. But, once turned round, both goals were soon in danger; still, in the eight minutes which preceded Thomson’s opening goa, the Parkhead fellows showed the greater confidence. They fully merited their lead. Then the play levelled up – you know already how the game developed into a real thriller. When all is said and done, over the piece Celtic were the more crafty. Skilful and solid side. I have told you about McNair, and Alec had in Hilley a more than useful partner. Willie McStay was the No 1 middleman; besides seeming that George Henderson did nor travel far, he forced the play in fine style. Brother Jamie did very well indeed. Late on, he got a knock which reduced his usefulness. McFarlane was an artist all the time, and an effective one at that. Connelly, as I have indicated, was something of a surprise packet. True, he was spoon fed by Gallagher, but his fearless dashes and accurate crosses were undoubtedly two of the brightest features. Cassidy was tireless and distributed the play well – I’ll say no more about Joe’s shooting. Thomson, a grafter took his goal splendidly. While Adam McLean did many clever things, he was not quite the same Adam I have seen recently. A word of praise for the Rangers’ rear, and to Arthur Dixon and Davie Meiklejohn. Dixon was omnivorous; Meiklejohn a master placer
