G Henderson 5
A Cunningham 7
Fleming 60
Match Information
Attendance: 34,000
Referee: T Small (Dundee)
Matchday: Thursday
Match Trivia
While the ‘old firm’ battle at Ibrox yesterday ended, as most folks expected, in Rangers pocketing the points, the score was more than a trifle severe on the plucky young fellows who sported ‘green and white’. Although losing a couple of goals in 8-an-half minutes and a third before half an hour had gone, the Parkhead confederacy faced their task with hearts of steel. And their second half showing, when they had the gale and the rain behind them, merited more than a solitary goal. The beaten Celts possessed cleverness, determination and stamina; the vital factors missing were subtlety and craft. Young Corrigan, who faced the huge task of trying to fill Patsy Gallagher’s shoes, is a promising boy, who has not yet developed the artistry or cunning of Parkhead’s ‘might atom’. ‘Patsy’s influence and driving power would have gone a long way to steady Eastern attack. I was having my first peep at Fleming, and he surprised me. I had been told things about this lad, but on the day, I liked him. His ball control surprised me particularly. Time and again after the turn Fleming carried the ball Robb-wards very cleverly, and when the chance came from Cassidy to pierce the Ibrox defence he was ‘on it like a bird’. No veteran could have bettered his goal. But first place in the Celtic forward quintette I award to Thomson. He was not so spectacular as Fleming or Connolly, but like Cairns on the other side he was a plodder all the time, a plodder who made the best use of the ball. ‘The Fifer’ did not get from McLean the response he should – well, Adam was never comfortable. Another thing – Dave Meiklejohn and Bert Manderson gave him little room. While there were heaps of individual cleverness in the Celtic movements’ forwards, it was left pretty much to the ‘Light Blues’ quintette to provide the solid machine-like sweeps. Archibald, I have seldom seen do better. He lagged once or twice, yet I might say that he kept forging ahead all the time. Sometimes before the interval his progress was made easier through McFarlane being out of his place; but ‘Archie’s’ crossing was delightfully accurate. Two of the goals – the first and last – both galloping Geordie Henderson counters, accrued from Archibald’s capital work. Alan Morton, if he took things easily latterly, scintillated before the cross-over, even if his direction was faulty on occasion. Yes, ‘Wee Alan’ gave young Beith Wilson a worrying time. George Henderson, Andy Cunningham and Tommy Cairns – and Captain Tom particularly – were grand grafters. When I recall the awful overhead conditions and the sloppy, churning ground, the movements of the Ibrox forwards in the first half-hour were wonderfully bright. Unquestionably it was a stroke of fortune for the League champions when Cairns ‘found the lady’. The spin of the coin gave them the wind; it meant the tide running with them to begin with. And they made the most of Dame Fortune’s lavish gift. They went off full steam ahead; every man-jack was a worker – and within five minutes Shevlin was beaten. As I have mentioned Archibald’s fine wing work gave Henderson the opening, but it was a masterly-taken goal. When the ball was swung over George burst after it, got it on the drop and in his stride. He timed his shot perfectly, and poor Shevlin was helpless. It was a glorious goal Less than five minutes after this Cunningham crashed on a second – a left foot smasher from six yards range, and again Shevlin was beaten through no fault of his. Rangers were in one of their brightest moods now. The other fellows battled hard to change the run of things, but with little or no success. McLean and Connolly gave Robb balls to return, and McFarlane smashed one in just bar high, but these were but interludes in the fight which raged about continually in Shevlin’s vicinity. Jamie and Willie McStay, with Hugh Hilley, were giants in defence, yet Hilley made a glaring blunder. He upended Archibald with the box, and McCandless made no mistake with his kick from the spot. Twenty-five minutes had gone now – right on to the interval the Rangers dominated matters. Turned round without the usual adjournment the Celts quickly got in touch with Willie Robb. A curling ball from Fleming gave Willie some trouble; then an unexpected cold douche for the luckless Parkhead party. Twice Archibald lobbed over a ball, and the second one was caught by Henderson and sent home just as George can send them. Only four minutes had gone, and before many more seconds had been clocked the Ibrox goal had undergone a great escape. Thomson fired in a ball which had Robb ‘beaten to the world’, but McCandless came from somewhere. The little Irishman got up and ‘headed’ out on the goal-line – or where the goalkeeper had been. That bit of play which led up to this ‘near thing’ fairly cheered up the hitherto despondent Celtic faithful who had not long to wait till Fleming gave then something worth shouting about. Muirhead missed, or rather failed to trap a ball which Connolly smartly snapped up, and quickly dropped it into the middle. Fleming dashed in and scored a brilliant goal – one almost as brilliant as Henderson’s first one. This finished the scoring, but in the remaining half-hour, the younger Celts strove hard for another goal. Fleming made several attempts to break through on his own, but he was invariably crowded out. I have already told you how the forwards comported themselves – individually and collectively. In the rear none did quite so well as Willie McStay, whose work was reminiscent of the Celtic we used to admire and laud so much. Buirdly Willie’s power, determination, craft and resource placed him on a pedestal of his own. He brought us back to the days when giant Celts – by comparison – figured in the fiercest and most exhilarating of the old-time epic ‘old-firm’ Ne’erday battles. Even if a trifle fitful, Hilley did much good work. Manderson and McCandless formed a stonewall bodyguard for Robb. ‘Big Bert’, I thought, was particularly lively, Rangers had a big pull in the middle division. Arthur Dixon fairly revelled in the mud. Towards the close ‘Lil’ Arthur, like Tommy Cairns, might easily have passed for an ‘All-Black’ instead of a ‘Light Blue’. Jamie McStay was also a tireless worker, but the Ibrox wing halfs were ahead of the Celtic pair. Tommy Muirhead was quieter than was his wont, I thought. Yet his ground passes to Morton and Cairns were as accurate and effective as ever
