J Smith 54
Match Information
Attendance: 12,000
Referee: W McCulloch (Glasgow)
Matchday: Saturday
Match Trivia
Dont look at the result and tell me you have an idea how this Glasgow Charity Cup semi-final went. The result tells you nothing apart from the fact that Rangers are through to another final and seen their twentieth victory. They night have won by six, and Third Lanark could not have offered an alibi. But in their failure to bring some beautifully conceived outfield movements to fruition, they gave McAffrey a chance to gain glory. He took it. I could become lyrical. First of all, he thrilled us; then he amazed us. His inspiring save from Kinnear, who thundered the ball in from fifteen yards only to see this flashing figure in orange throw himself at the ball and turn it aside, was one of the games most gripping incident. That save alone would have entitled him to fulsome praise, but he had many like it. For instance, he sopped Venters drive that came at him as though driven by a thousand devils and again caught a Venters header on the goal-line after McCulloch and Johnstone had failed to get it close in. He was entirely blameless when Jamie Smith, who was led off five minutes before the end with a lacerated head, notched the goal that took Rangers on. McCulloch was indirectly to blame for the loss of this goal. Nine minutes after the start, he upended the flying Kinnear. The winger took the free-kick himself, placed the ball across the goal in delightful style and whooped with joy as he saw Smith cleverly head it high into the net over upstretched hands of McAffrey. Let me say of McCulloch that he was by no stretch of imagination a failure. True, he did not measure up to a Carabine, but I see in this bustling back many excellent qualities. And it must not be overlooked that Kinnear was in one of his most bewildering moods. Everything didnt come off for the Ranger, but I had always a feeling he was likely to run into a game capable of demoralising the Cathkin rear. That it did not eventuate was due to the defiant stand of McCulloch and the intelligent positioning and quickness in recovery of Blair. The lanky Barr too, must be commended. Never did he allow himself to be intimidated by the juggling Smith. Beaten he was a t times, but he was ever back asking for more. He refused to be drawn. At no stage did the Third forwards advance with the individual skill of the Ibrox quintette. There was far too much bunching, while you would have imagined by their timidity that they were actually afraid of Dawsons reputation. Kinnaird was under the shadow of Gray throughout, while Dewar, wily though he was, had not the speed demanded. Young Mason disappointed me. He looked good but promised more than he achieved. The Rangers forwards, on the other hand, played some immaculate football, controlling the light ball with confidence and etching their patterns with consummate skill. Harrison alone fell from grace. He dissipated many obvious chances, his failure to send home from ten yards after Kinnear had laid the ball on to him, leaving himself open to harsh criticism. And one word more. George Brown, so cultured and thoughtful, stood head and shoulders above all. The Master
