English
J Smith <45
Match Information
Attendance: 5,000
Referee: T Dougray (Glasgow)
Matchday: Saturday
Match Trivia
Resolutely though they struggles against the power of Rangers the Bairns were well and truly beaten at Ibrox. The chief cause of the Brockville trouble was the inability of the attack to function properly. Even Patsy Gallagher failed to instil the spirit and snap so sadly lacking. All the wiles and craft went for Nothing. He planned many raids, but his comrades could not carry them to fruition. Low missed his regular partner Stevenson. Eager enough was Miller, to whom the vacant position was relegated, but he and Low had little understand, and often lost touch with one another. The ball did not run kindly for Morgan, who rarely eluded the watchful Simpson, and this of course also militated against the success of the line. Tom Townsleys generalship was of tremendous value in the first half, when he was up coaching the forwards and encouraging them to greater endeavour. His foraging was admirable, but in his obsession for construction, he wandered from his position and exposed a gap which English was not slow in putting to full advantage. I have seen Kennedy and Hutchinson do better. They had their bright spells, it is true, but the open formation of the champions thrusts had them wandered. Had not Hamill perceptibly wavered in the last quarter of an hour when the points were won and lost. I would have written him down the most efficient back afield. Three times before the turn thwarted English when Sam was through. Now let me say a word of praise about the Ibrox centre-forward. Cool and sprightly, he was willing and able to dash ahead alone yet he did not let the attack get out of gear by his individualism. His three goals stamped him as a menacing, alert leader. The battering-ram of the front-line however, was undoubtedly, McPhail. Bobs dazzling footwork and scheming placed him high above any of the others, although some of Alan Mortons incursions were in the best vein. Kennedy and Scobbie were lad many a dance by the wee blue devil, who showed that a master he is by the way he controlled the ball in the swirling wind. Had Smith been kept busy, he would have come out of the contest with much credit. As it was, he suffered in comparison with his mates on the other wing. Still, he was in his element during the latter stages. For sheer artistry, George Brown had no equal. His anticipation too, was delightful. The way he fitted in with the manoeuvring of McPhail and Morton and varied his distribution had much to do with the ultimate cracking of the Falkirk rear. Meiklejohn the dependable was as usual, a powerful middleman. He carried the fight well into the Brockville zone before the turn and was quick to seize a chance to send English away when the opposing backs did not exploit their offside tactics as they intended. The contest was spoiled to some extent by these Falkirk offside stunts. McAulay, who was a big improvement on what I saw of him in the Clyde game, had a strangle-hold on Low and Miller, and became more confident the longer the encounter went. In conjunction with Gray, who did not male a mistake, he put the shutters up and left Hamilton with a simple task. Falkirk found themselves a goal behind in four minutes. English sending the ball whizzing past Thomson low down from an apparently off-side position. Brown, McPhail and Morton engineered the situation which led up to it. Eleven minutes later Smith received possession from McPhail and away he cantered to send it tearing past the keeper. A grand goal this. There was no more scoring until twelve minutes after the restart, Brown pushed the ball out to Smith and as the later swept it over with perfect precision. English met it with his head and adroitly turned it into the net. The Bairns only then threw in the towel, so to speak, and were treated so some lovely play by the Champions. A minute remained when English scored his third, and what a glorious goal it was. Half the length of the field did he traverse and the whole Falkirk defence did he hoodwink before putting the finishing touch to his spectacular run
