G McMillan
S Archibald <45
Match Information
Attendance: 40,000
Referee: T Small (Dundee)
Matchday: Saturday
Match Trivia
In the latest Parkhead Celtic-Rangers’ scrap the three goals of the match stand out in bold relief. They were all beauties. And – think or say what you will – in my opinion the third one was the best of all. Jamie McGrory has many brilliant goals to his credit, but I doubt if he has ever scored a better than his very last one. George McMillan, who opened the count, showed highly commendable opportunism when he let go to flabbergast young John Thomson; Alex Archibald’s whizzer was one of his ’whizziest’. And – one doesn’t need to be the Man in Charge of the opening ‘Archie’ is aiming at to have some odea of the weight that is behind his crashers. Celtic were two goals down, when after Alex Thomson had just got the wrong side of Tom Hamilton’s left-hand upright with a screaming sneak shot, McGrory hooked the ball past one Ranger, then another, and went on to give the Ibrox keeper not the ghost of a chance. By this time Davie Meiklejohn was injured and doing as best he could on the right touch-line. Cutting towards the pavilion to beat back an attack on the Celtic right, he overstretched himself as he ran right out of the field. This happened in the fifteenth minute – of the second half, of course – after which the Rangers came close to counting again. Willie McStay, all out after Alan Morton, gave away a free-kick, which allowed John Thomson one more opportunity of distinguishing himself. After this McMillan shot, Fleming shot, and John Thomson fell on the ball. nearer the middle of the field Tom Hamilton would have been beaten. Followed McGrory’s glorious goal, and it was all it nearly all, Celtic now – for the first time. This Parkhead pressure was punctuated by another brilliant Thomson save, following which McCallum pranced ahead like a young thoroughbred to be pulled up with a jerk. McGrory galloped on, Bob Hamilton played behind for safety, and the other Hamilton, out for the corner-kick, was up-ended. ‘Twas truly a case of rattled Rangers – a goal up, still they were in ‘Queer Street’. Davie Meiklejohn, back in his place again, kicked clear twice or thrice, bit it was evident that he was suffering much. Thomson took the edge off another Morton try; in a tick, at the other end, Tom Hamilton was out clearing a loose one. McCallum came in too late for a Connolly cross; Then an Archibald raid brought Thomson into action again. Hereabout ‘Archie’ struck the crossbar. Back came the Celts, and the Rangers were tied up once more as the Parkhead fellows made a last desperate attempt to pull level, Connolly headed over a free kick from Peter Wilson, and was sent spinning his his pains. Another from McFarlane was ‘skied’ by Connoly, and – what at one time looked something of an Ibrox dawdle finished with the Rangers straining every nerve to retain their single goal lead. Gone were all their style and finish – it was a case of anything, anywhere to retain their slender advantage. I have started my story at the end, because the closing half of the second half contained all the thrills. It also contained most of the short-tempered interludes – those nasty, narky little things which seem inseparable from the meetings of our greatest rivals. Tom Small said a few words on several occasions, and one man was his ‘audience’ thrice at least. Before the interval, as in indicated in my opening sentence, it was scrappy; scrappy because of the indifferent fight being put up be Celtic. Rangers, on their toes from the kick-off, were much superior to an unaccountably lethargic side, which became more so with the scoring of the Ibrox goals. And, as I have said, both were beauties. Clever and all as George McMillan was, when after Archibald, by doubling back, had put an end to a pretty bit of play, in which Muirhead and Buchanan figured, he was allowed a bit too much rope preparatory to getting his goal. It came along in the tenth minute. Beating a couple of Celts cleverly, his shot was as much a surprise as it was well directed. Had he waited a fraction of a second things might have been different. Young Thomson would have been better prepared. But ‘ifs’ have no place in the results of matches. As Jock Britton said, if everybody did the right thing, if there were no mistakes in football would be no goals. And – a goalkeeper, and a good one, Jock ought to know. McMillan’s goal came from twenty-five yards out; Archibald’s screamer also came from a distance – in the thirty-seventh minute. Hereabout Alex Thomson should have shot; instead, he gave the ball to Connolly, whose ‘corner’ was cleared with difficulty. About midfield the ball became Archibald’s own, and going on until he was a couple of yards or so from the corner ‘the Fifer’ let fly. A grand shot; a great goal; still, no doubt it, McFarlane hung back; Jock should have come out to meet his man. Once, in the first half, I thought Alan Morton, with Thomson on the ground, should have scored but throughout the little Ranger was delightfully clever and elusive. How the ‘true blue’ portion of the crowd yelled when Willie McStay, at the eastern end, threw himself at – nothing. Elusive Alan wasn’t there. Bob McPhail, too eager perhaps, was a mixture – now first class, then anything but that. Jamie Fleming stuck into his work unflinchingly, and – the sturdy Ranger had the better of it when knocks were going. He was useful, pushful centre-forward. George McMillan, an inveterate worker, like Fleming, was ever a sore thorn in the side of the Celtic rearguard. Both took a deal of watching. Alex Archibald, like Morton, was ever ready for a raid, and his goal accrued from one of them. Davie Meiklejohn’s worth to Ibrox was reflected in Jamie McGrory’s ineffectiveness, until the stolid, stalwart Ranger left the middle of the field. There was nothing flashy in his game; Davie just kept position and tackled steadily and resolutely. When he returned from the right touch-line, as in have said, cripped as he was, he took some getting round. Od course, then he had the assistance of Jock Buchanan and Tommy Muirhead, who each in his own way contributed much to this Ibrox victory. The ex-Morton man brought down the wrath of a section of the crowd on his head more than once. Tommy Muirhead, undergoing a ‘National test, shone brightly in the aggressive sense, until McGrory’s goal came and with it a ‘back-to-the-wall’ Rangers company. They were out to hold their own, and here, let me say, a tendency to this sort of thing even before Meiklejohn was hurt was evident. And – haven’t we been taught right down the ages, that attack is the best defence. I have been told that Bob Hamilton has not been doing too well recently. He started a bit timidly, but latterly Ireland’s left-back was OK, So, too, was his partner. The little Aberdonian was grand. Never flurried, never worried, Dougie Gray was ever in position; his tackling was sure, and he kicked a beautiful ball. More – he has two feet; more, still – he seems to have as much confidence in his left foot as in the right. Tom Hamilton was a sound goalkeeper; at the other end John Thomson did lots of clever saving despite the two goals lost. But you don’t often find him beaten twice on the same game from a distance as he was in this match. Both Celtic Willies were at their best – McGonnigle improved on recent showing. And they had need to be on their toes, for neither Peter Wilson nor John McFarlane was up to concert pitch. Neither was anything like the man he was at Motherwell. McGrory, until the Rangers Meiklejohn disaster, was held as in a vice, and Gray surely touched rick-bottom. Things ran very badly for the Maryhill Hibernian, who made glaring mistake. Alec Thomson, the cleverest of the bunch, found himself up against something too powerful for him. Still, the clever touch was often there. Pat Connolly too was a bit below par. Dashing Denis McCallum, I would say, was best in a line that only got working as a line in the closing twenty-five minutes.
