T Cairns
S Archibald
Match Information
Attendance: 40,000
Referee: unknown - to be confirmed
Matchday: Saturday
Match Trivia
It was difficult to realise that the restless Rangers who ousted the Celtic from the Glasgow Cup competition by three goals to nothing at Parkhead on Saturday was composed of the same, or almost the same, men who figured in that depressing City tie at Shawfield a few weeks ago, At Rutherglen Bridge they were a lot of dull dogs; at Celtic Park they were all life and fire. As a matter of fact, a more virile and powerful Rangers’ eleven I have not seen for many moons. In these times of stress we don’t look for the finer points of the game, and we don’t get them often. The next best thing is whole-heartedness. This the Rangers supplied in full measurer. For a good twenty minutes I had the feeling that the Celts would continue their winning sequence against their greatest rivals. The cup-holders were operating then in the teeth of a most troublesome wind, yet if their play was nothing to go into raptures about they doing the major share of the pressing. A cool head to steady the Parkhead attack during this period would have been invaluable – it would have deferred further this latest Rangers’ triumph, I am convinced. You know how much the first goal means in these ‘old firm’ tussles. Chances were there for the picking up – from McAtee’s crosses mostly – but there was nobsy there who could clinch them. Following fine work by Cringan, McAtee and Gallagher, ‘Patsy’s’ first of the few shots delivered by him during the afternoon was blocked, then pushful McColl had no luck with a fine swerving ball which sailed harmlessly past. These were really the only things that caused Hempsey any concern in the opening half of the first half, the one spell in which the Celtic mattered much. Their attack lacked penetration sadly – indeed the closet shaves were at the other end, although, as I gave indicated, the Rangers, so far, were not nearly so often within hail of Shaw as Gallagher and his maters were in front of Hempsey. What a ‘life’ Archibald gave the Parkhead custodian seven minutes after the start! Brown, who had wrought his way over to the left, flashed one across the front of the goal. Archibald’s duty was clear – stop the ball, and tip it into the net. But the ‘Fifer’ elected to let go a rocket first-timer, and - missed! Had, the Rangers lost the tie, I am afraid the Ibrox faithful would have strafed the ex-Raith Rovers despite those delightful first half centres of his, and his lovely goal which arrived a couple of minutes before the interval. The ball, with which he gave Shaw no chance, came out to him nicely, as the result of a mix-up in the middle among the Celtic defenders, who already looked a half-beaten company. A quarter of an hour before this I could discern the ‘handwriting on the wall.’ The Parkhead wing half-backs, never happy from the beginning, cracked up completely, Cringan got more to do than any one man could expected to cope with successfully, and the unsupported forwards lost their earlier grip of the game. When that attack did get a move on the energetic Dixon or the speedy Manderson swooped down on them like hawks and cleared, or made things easy for the waiting and more reposeful Blair, who was off for four or five minutes as the result of a collision with McAtee. Hempsey on a knee, picked up a semi-apologetic shot from Gallagher, but in a manner of speaking the Ibrox goalkeeper held a watching brief only. For all he got to do he might be said to have enjoyed a pleasant Saturday afternoon looking at a right good hard match in which no player spared himself. How different with Shaw! A busy man all the time, Charley knuckled clear a dangerous high shot and tricky low ball, both from McDiarmid, a soft one from Bowie, and another from the left-winger Brown on his top before he made that one mistake which was responsible for the Rangers’ second point. The closing half was three minutes old only when Archibald forced a ‘corner’ Dodds, which he placed high up in the middle of the goal. Shaw got a hand to the ball, but instead of clearing he dropped it at Cairns’ foot, and in a twinkling ‘Tommy’ had flashed it into the net. This goal finished the Celtic, who went from bad to worse in marked contrast to their conquerors, who improved as time went on. There is no use wearying you by telling of how near the Ibrox forwards came to scoring again before Bowie in magnificent fashion practically gave Brown a present of the third goal just on the call of time. I prefer rather to relate how Shaw, McNair and Cringan stood up to their work during this gruelling period, which was fought out nearly all the time in Celtic territory. Shaw was simply splendid, and crafty McNair, as cool as ain icicle, never did his club better service. I need hardly tell you that the veteran kept his head – he never loses it. Dodds, never the ease, was positively feeble on occasion, and when I say that I have seen Willie Cringan play very much better, the fact should not be forgotten that the Douglas Water-Sunderland man was overwrought. Some of his touches in the first half were delightful. How much the Celtic lost by McMenemy’s absence is matter for conjecture. I don’t say that would have won had the mater forward been playing, but the fact remains that the line which was rushed off its feet latterly by the speedy and impetuous Rangers’ rearguard was for the most of the time like a flock of sheep without a shepherd. Gallagher I have never seen to so little advantage – indeed, one could have been excused had he forgotten that the little bit of grit was playing. McColl, who missed McMenemy most of all, looked in vain for these forward passes which he so dearly love to gallop after and clinch, yet he and McAtee I would bracket as the best of the forward bunch. When criticising the players in the Clyde-Rangers tie I said that Archibald would success if he continued to centre the ball/ I say so again. This, as it Shawfield, he did to perfection almost in the first half, but also, as against the Clyde, ‘the Fifer’ fell away from grace later on, and shot or tried to diddle Dodds when he should have put the ball in the middle. McDiarmid, as I have all along contented, is a much better left-winger than a centre, for which latter position then man arrived with the moment. I refer, of course, to Sergeant David Brown, a big strong fellow, who believes in being up. If the opposing centre half-back is to keep a tight grip of Dundee’s bustling soldier, he won’t do much else. Willie Cringan will subscribe to this statement I know. Cairns got ‘fankled’ now and then at the beginning, bur soon found his feet, and afterwards shared with Bowie the distinction of being the brainiest forward afield. Pursell also started pretty wobbly and improved; Dixon, seldom off the ball, defended and forced the game to some tune; but purposeful Gordon was without the shadow of a doubt the man that mattered most in the line. Yes ‘James E,’ who was both player and coach, and Cringan were the best half-backs afield. Manderson – veritable avalanche at times – and Blair were unbeatable in a Rangers team which came out determined to break Celtic’s spell of success, and succeeded admirably and worthily. It was easy to see that the Ibrox folks had profited from recent experiences
