S Archibald 87
Match Information
Attendance: 36,000
Referee: J Binnie (Falkirk)
Matchday: Tuesday
Match Trivia
Thrill followed thrill at Firhill yesterday, where Rangers carried off the points by an Archibald goal, scored five minutes before the close. It was a dramatic finish to a game that kept 36,000 spectators on the tip-tow of excitement from first to last. Rangers were superior in attack, and their machine-like movements in the first 20 minutes charmed friend and foe alike. Partick’s rear were first-rate in defence, and their forwards, if a bit straggly, gave Willie Robb and his backs no end of trouble after the turn-about. With a more pushful centre-forward, my notion is that the Thistle would not have lost. Whew! What a game at Firhill. It was really one long thrill. I fancy won’t be pleased with me saying that the better team collared the spoils. But on that point, I will agree to differ with them. There was no comparison between the attacks. How the Partick defence survived the Ibrox storm in the first twenty minutes was nothing short of marvellous. The Rangers displayed football par excellence both in offence and defence. Muirhead, filling the inside right forward berth for the day, was the master craftsman. Now to Alex Archibald, then to Carl Hansen, and occasionally over to Morton, Tommy tapped the ball with a deftness that made things look oh, so easy. Cunningham, too, kept slipping the ball forward in all direction, and with the great little Dane all a fire it seemed impossible that Ferguson’s charge could withstand the pressure for long. But survive it did, although on several occasions it is not easy to explain how. Once Hansen treated us to a run similar to those, he gave us at foggy Ibrox on the previous day when he opened the scoring. Carl, who tricked Wilson and Bulloch, was rushing in on goal when Gibson popped up from somewhere and back-heeled the ball away from a little fellow’s toe. Cunningham and Meiklejohn fired in shots, Alan Morton and Archibald kept pushing over the ball into the middle, but only to find it being whizzed over or past the framework around Ferguson, or Bulloch, Crighton and Wilson banging clear. One of Meiklejohn’s drives caught Wilson’s cranium rebounded high in the air and dropped just under the bar. But while the Rangers’ attack was of the hurricane order, I must confess that direct shots at Ferguson were comparatively scarce. Those Ibrox outfield movements of sparkling brilliance which were lovely to watch were carried on a bit just too near to Ferguson. When the quintette reached the penalty area and got to grips with Bulloch and Co, they found themselves huddled together, leaving too little space to get direct on the target, and the great little Dane did not improve matters by his impetuous drives from impossible positions. You’ll have to forgive me for dwelling at such length on this great 20 minutes siege but let me make it perfectly plain that all the credit dies not belong to the ‘Light Blues’. Those Thistle rear men proved themselves regular heroes; they put up a defence that will linger long in the memories of the Firhill faithful. Relief came at last, and if McFarlane had been a bit more thrustful we might have been provided with a first-class sensation. Dixon, in attempting to pass the ball back to Robb, got fankled. McFarlane pounced on it, but instead of going on himself he elected to let Blair finish, and ‘Johnny’ Made a sorry mess of it. He slipped. But this just proved to be the first of the many thrills that followed at both goals, the majority at the Patrick end – at least up to the interval. Hansen had another glorious run down the left, and his cross was a beauty. The ball dropped about a yard in front of Ferguson and Bulloch in his anxiety hesitated to let the goalkeeper clear, with the result that the ball lay for what seemed an age waiting on a scoring foot. Bulloch scraped it away from the goal-mouth, but what a palpitating period it was for the North-West denizens. When Harris, Wilson and Gibson got a real grip of those lively Rangers’ forwards the game levelled up, and it was a case of attack and counter-attack. For a time, the excitement among the crowd spread to the players, and knocks were given and taken, but of rough work the game was remarkably free considering the fierceness of the pace. While the Thistle forwards moved only by fits and starts, every raid spelled danger to Robb. McCandless and Nicholson found great difficulty in keeping their balance on the slippery, treacherous pitch, and McFarlane and Blair, who were being spoon-fed by tireless Kinloch, were presented with several scoring chances. Blair’s marksmanship was not of the A1 class, however, while the centre-forward more often than not was in two minds – whether to break through on his own or to let somebody else do the work. McFarlane usually chose the latter alternative, and with bad results. There is no doubt that the centre was the weak link in the Thistle front rank. McFarlane lacked initiative and dash. Any number of openings came his way, especially after the cross-over, but he absolutely refused to burst ahead and try his own luck. Just before the interval the Ibrox enthusiasts got a fright when a ball from the right rebounded from Reid’s head inti the goal, but Robb was on his guard. Turned round, Partick came away with a burst, and as it happened this was the beginning of a hot time for the Ibrox defenders, and twice Meiklejohn got in the way of balls – one of them a rocket Salisbury drive – that were going straight for the goal. Partick’s pressure was nothing like the same duration as the Rangers’ opening attack, but it must have caused a lot of quaking among the boys who sported the light blue. In one of his first raids on Ferguson this half Hansen ought to have counted. Muirhead and Archibald gave Carl a real gift, but he ‘let bang’ when a moment’s hesitation would have enabled him to realise that he could have walked the ball into the net. I have neither the time nor space to go into detail about all the incidents before the all-important goal came along. Let me say, however, that there was ever so little between the teams, and that scoring chances fell to both. Rangers had one particular bit of bad luck. I refer to a time when, following a ‘corner’, ‘goal’ was on everybody’s lips when the ball crashed against Nicholson in the middle and laid him low. So badly was big ‘Jock’ affected that he had to seek the shelter of the pavilion for ten minutes. This period almost proved fatal for the League leaders. Muirhead, who had taken up Nicholson’s place, got mixed up with McCandless, leaving Blair a clear run-on goal. ‘Johnny’ forged ahead, but his shot was blocked by Reid. With the end approaching both sides rolled up their selves. Alan Morton obliged with several solo runs, but kept the ball just Rather much to himself. As it happened, however, the little Rangers’ tactics were indirectly responsible for the winning of the game. Alan, who forced a ‘corner’ off Crichton, placed the ball right to Archibald, who lying unmarked, whizzed it into the top corner of the net. It was a lovely goal, and the Rangers made no effort to conceal their joy. Only five minutes remained, and even in this short space of time both goals underwent several narrow escapes. Muirhead, I place as the most enterprising of the Ibrox forwards with Cunningham and Archibald sharing second place. Hansen was rash, almost to the extent of being foolish, in some of his forages or raids. The great little Dane wants to restrain himself. Alan Morton was in his best form in the early stages but tapered off. Kinloch was the brains of the Thistle attack, which was disjoined and leaderless. Improving, Blair, with the chances he got, should have done better – like McFarlane, he lacked punch. Ballantyne was far too often out of his place, and Salisbury, in consequence, did not receive nearly as much of the ball as he should. Wilson was the brains of the Thistle attack, which was disjoined and leaderless. Improving, Blair with the chances he got, should have done better – like McFarlane, he lacked punch. Ballantyne was far too often out of his place, and Salisbury, in consequence, did not receive nearly as much of the ball as he should. Wilson was the giant among the middlemen; indeed, in this line the Thistle trio were the more effective. Harris, who hung to the ball too much early on, and took some time to settle never spared himself afterwards. Meiklejohn was the outstanding Ranger her – Davie was at his best. Dixon, who at times was easily beaten, was inclined to leave McFarlane unattended too often. Young Reid, who carried the ball out of danger like a veteran, enhanced his reputation he made fewer mistakes than McCandless, whose kicking was not so sure as usual. Crichton and Bulloch formed a great bodyguard for Ferguson, who like Robb came out of the fray with flying colours
