Glasgow and District than it is now, those who understood the feelings
and aspirations of young men engaged in it repeatedly considered the
question in all its aspects, and a combination of circumstances have
occurred within the last decade which had seriously affected that game.
The City of Glasgow could not, of course, afford to remain in a
stationary condition to suit the convenience of a few thousands of
cricketers. New streets had to be formed, new houses built all round,
and with this advance upon civilisation came the deadly blow to
cricket--at least juvenile cricket--and those clubs soon disappeared
from the field. Ground after ground was swallowed up, and on the scene
of many a hot and exciting match blocks of houses, railway stations,
churches, and public works may now be seen. The Scotch youth, and for
that part of it (just to give the sentence greater weight), the British
youth, loves some kind of manly sport. Cricket he could no longer play
for want of good and level ground, but then there was another game
which, at least, could be played or learned under easy circumstances,
even on a quiet street or big "free coup," and that was Association
football. They soon took to it kindly, and many of them struggled hard
and procured a ground. Not one, of course, like that on which they used
to have their cricket matches long ago, but one on which Farmer Lyon
grazed his cows and sheep, and they had it for a trifle. What did they
care about ridges and furrows, or that it was a difficult matter to see
the lower goal-posts when you were at the east end? Not a straw. The
only matter which annoyed them (and this only happened occasionally) was
Lyon's bull. Their club colours were red jerseys, with a small white
stripe, and "Jock" (that was the animal's name), used to scatter the
lads about on the Friday evenings when they were engaged in a big side.
The players generally managed to clear out in time, but the infuriated
animal once goared the best ball the club had, and next morning, as they
had to play the "Invincible" of Glasgow Green, a subscription had to be
raised for a new one. Football can thus be played under much more
favourable conditions than cricket, or almost any other out-door game,
at less expense, and this, in a great measure at least, is the secret of
its popularity amongst the masses. It can also be played under nearly
every condition of the atmosphere. Nothing seems to frighten the Scotch
Association football player. Rain, hail, snow, and even frost, is
treated with cool indifference. In England the ball is quietly laid
aside with the advent of April and forgotten till the Autumn leaves are
yellow and sear, but in Scotland Association football seems to have no
recognised season at all, so far as the younger clubs and even a few of
the seniors are concerned. With the sun making one's hair stick to his
head with perspiration, and the thermometer at 90 degrees in the shade,
they play away in the summer-time, and at Christmas attempt to dribble
in half-a-foot of snow. Meantime the question about football being
blotted out can, I think, be easily answered in the negative, and upon
these will depend the future prospect of Association Football in
Scotland. There are, in fact, "breakers ahead," and a strong and
determined hand will have to take the wheel. The greatest of these is
the "professional" football player, and the next the "greed of
gate-money." "O! we never heard of a professional football player in
Scotland," exclaims a chorus of voices; "there is no such thing. It's
only in England." My remark, of course, is only beginning to be
realised. The definition of professional in athletics "is one who runs
(plays) for gain." Everybody knows what that means. If you receive any
money whatever, directly or indirectly, from your club (except out of
the private purses of the members), you are a professional. Are there
not clubs, with great reputations, who have such members? If these are
allowed to continue on the club books simply because they are good
players, the committee are doing a great injustice to the other members,
it may be under a mistaken notion. Now, as football has always been
looked upon as a purely amateur game, and played by young men for their
own amusement, it is to be hoped that the day is far distant when the
professional football player, or even worse, the professional football
"loafer," who does not work, but preys upon his fellow-members, will
appear in a general form. In all conscience, if the public wish to see
professional football (and I know from experience they don't), what
would they think of the All-Scotland Eleven against the Champion Eleven
of England? That might sound all right, but with the recollection of how
professional athletics of all kinds (with the remarkable exception of
cricket) are now conducted, and their low associations, woe betide
football when the professional element is introduced. It will assuredly
be the signal for its decline and fall. As for the greed of gate-money,
of which some clubs are so fond, much might be said. When I refer to the
clubs who try to gather as much cash as they can during the season in
order to pay their legitimate obligations and meet the heavy item of
ground rent, I show up an honourable example, and one worthy of
imitation; but when I hear of clubs who have gathered ten, yea twenty
times more than is required for such purposes, and even get handsome
donations besides from their patrons, deep in debt at the end of the
season, I begin to wonder where all the money has gone. I ask a young
gentleman who has only lately become a member, and he tells me he knows
nothing about the finance committee, but throws out grave hints about
sordid motives and bare-faced applications for pecuniary assistance. In
this respect clubs must be above suspicion, if they want the delightful
game to hold its own and prosper. As a _quid pro quo_ for this vicious
practice, however, there is no game whose players are so charitable as
those connected with Association Football. There is not a club in the
Association that is not ready to play a "Charity Match," and far more
has been given to the funds of charitable institutions by the actions of
Association football clubs than all the other games in Scotland put
together.
_VII.--THE GREAT INTERNATIONAL;_
OR,
_NED DUNCAN'S DREAM._
~Scotland v. America, 1901.~
While on holidays, enjoying myself at a quiet and beautiful sea-side
village on the shores of the Firth of Clyde, I received a note from a
friend reminding me that an old football chum was still on the sick
list, and making little or no progress towards recovery. In fact, his
life, which had recently been enfeebled by an incurable malady, was
slowly but surely drawing to a close. Last time I saw him he referred to
the fact that he had some MS. which he wished Mr. John M'Dowall, his
successor in the secretaryship of the S.F.A., and myself, to read over,
and when this came into my mind I resolved to repair to Glasgow at once,
ere it might be too late.
It was just as well that I did, for poor Ned Duncan was fast sinking
when I got permission from his widowed mother to visit the bedside. Ned,
I may mention, was one of the most enthusiastic players of his day that
ever kicked a ball, but was obliged to give up practice in consequence
of the unfortunate circumstances I have just mentioned, and of late had
only been a spectator at the leading games. He received me that evening
with a kind smile of recognition, and his pale face beckoned me to come
near. I was certainly much touched with my old friend's appearance, and
tried as much as possible to cheer him, but it was of no use.
He said he knew he was going to the silent land. The doctor, in fact,
had told him he had only a few days to live, and he was glad I had come
to bid him farewell, and take over some straggling notes he had compiled
last summer about the football of the future. "Going home one evening,"
he continued, "after an International match, I fell into a deep sleep,
and had a remarkable dream. I thought I saw a great match between
Scotland and America. Real genuine players glided past, scrimmaging with
each other for the ball; thousands of spectators, new and beautiful
youthful faces, graced the area allotted to spectators; the hum of
thousands of excited voices greeted my ears, and"----Here poor Ned's
voice failed.
After a few minutes repose, the old player gasped, "But what need I tell
you more. Here is the MS., and make what use of it you like."
My dear old friend is now under the turf he loved so well to play on
when in the zenith of his fame.
Having eventually opened the packet, the first sentence which met my
eyes was "Ned Duncan's Dream; or, The Great International of 1901."
I will, therefore, leave poor Ned to tell his own tale, and what he saw
in his vision, which at any rate has the merit of originality about it.
As more extraordinary dreams have come to pass, there is no saying what
the beginning of the twentieth century may bring forth, for
International football matches with Australia, America, and Canada have
been talked of, and some of them even played, during the past year or
two, and may become accomplished facts.
I must, however, return to the MS., which reads after the following
style:--
"It was in April, 1901, on a Saturday afternoon, that the Yankees came
to Scotland to play a match with our crack Eleven. The Universal Postal
Service, which scattered letters all over the world at the rate of one
half-penny per ounce, conveyed a formal challenge from the Americans to
Scotland that the Yankees would be delighted to meet an eleven of that
country in an even game of football. The New World men of course meant
business, and our secretary, who was a capital fellow, much liked by the
Scottish Football Association for his kind and obliging disposition, was
instructed to accept the challenge and welcome the strangers to Glasgow.
"Previous to the time I speak of, the Americans had beaten the
Australians and Canadians, and were considered by their own friends
invincible even to the extent of a couple of goals. The Canadians, by
the aid of the Electric Express Line's fast steamers, had been able to
leave Montreal in the morning and return in the evening from New York,
defeated but not disgraced. The Australians were a little longer on the
way, as the improved appliances for driving ships had not yet attained
that perfection there which had been shown in most of the ports and
rivers of the British Isles. They were experimenting, however, and some
good in that direction was looked for daily, and a new Express Company
floated. The Americans had also beaten the Englishmen the previous year
at New York, and, as their own newspapers had it, 'came over to crow in
the Land o' Cakes.' The great shipping trade of the Clyde ere this was,
so to speak, causing a new order of things to arise all over the world.
Large and beautifully-built steel and bronze vessels left the Clyde
every day for all parts of the earth.
"They had annihilated space and bridged the Atlantic in earnest, and the
'electrics' (once called steamers) could go from Glasgow to New York in
little over twenty-four hours. Yes. 'Daily to New York, Montreal,
California, and New Mexico. Splendid accommodation for first-class
passengers: 120 knots per hour, and no vibration.' So read the
advertisement in the leading Glasgow newspapers. Why! what did it all
mean? One hundred knots per hour--3000 in twenty-four hours! To New York
in a day! I had certainly heard of the swallow taking an early breakfast
at the uttermost part of England and picking up a late dinner on the
shores of Africa, all in one day; but 120 knots an hour with an
'electric,'--it was just enough for flesh and blood to comprehend at
once.
"'Well,' said a friend of mine with some experience in the marine
engineering line, 'I have long thought on electricity as the great
motive power of the future, provided it could be properly stored, and
now you see what it has come to.'
"In fact, our coal supply--one of the sources of Britain's
greatness--was getting exhausted, and electrical appliances had become
an absolute necessity. The strain could no longer be borne of one huge
vessel consuming 500 tons of coal in twenty-four hours, and those
blessed electrics were not introduced a moment too soon.
"The learned men of France, who had long been working earnestly to solve
the problem of electric economy, were beaten in the race, and a perfect
system of stored electricity introduced and successfully applied to the
propulsion of ships, patented by Professor Scotland Thomson, nephew of
the late Sir William Thomson, of blessed memory.
"Lots of other remarkable events had been occurring in our history, but
none so marked as the introduction of the 'electrics.' The people of
Scotland had very nearly lost their individuality. Old Caledonia was to
be simply a name. Englishmen invaded Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dundee, and
even _Ultima Thule_, and overran the country with their ideas of social
life. They made slow progress at first, but came in hordes, and the
invasion was irresistible. They, of course, introduced all their
newfangled ideas about games and pastimes, and compelled us to submit.
"Parliament had got so mixed up and thoroughly disgusted with the
question of Irish Home Rule, which cropped up every session, that in an
evil mood it had threatened puir all Scotland with assimilation of the
Law of Jurisprudence, but failed. King Albert the First, however, had,
out of respect to the great city of Glasgow--the Second City in the
Empire--created his third son Duke of Glasgow, for you must know the
House of Peers was still extant, but greatly reformed and limited in
power. It could only veto a law passed by the Commons once, and there
was no more about the matter.
"The match, you may be sure, was the general topic of conversation all
over Scotland several weeks before it came off, and on the Friday
evening, when the Americans arrived and put up at the Express Hotel,
Glasgow, the excitement was great. The preparations and arrangements for
the struggle were on a grand scale, and good weather alone was wanting
to make it a success. That evening several of the Scotch team strolled
into the billiard-room of the Express Hotel to welcome the young
Americans, and had a chat with them about football in general, and the
spread of the rules all over the world.
"The eventful day at last dawned, and a finer April morning could not
have been desired. Play was announced to begin at 3.30 p.m., and long
before that time Bruce Park, Cathcart Road, was half-filled with
spectators, and presented a fine sight.
"The crowd around the field was certainly the most remarkable that had
ever gathered together in Glasgow. As the game was no ordinary one, they
flocked from all quarters. Most of the towns in Scotland supplied their
quota to swell the multitude, and as railway travelling was cheap and
convenient now compared to the original football days of the Queen's
Park, Clydesdale, Vale of Leven, Rangers, Dumbarton, Granville, 3rd
Lanark Volunteers, Partick, Clyde, Alexandra Athletic (of which poor
Duncan was hon. secy.), and a host of other clubs, a two-hundred-mile
journey, which was easily accomplished in an hour, was considered next
to nothing. They were there--young men and maidens from London,
Manchester, Liverpool, Edinburgh, Blackburn, Darwen, Bolton, and
Sheffield--all bent on making a day of it. The road to Bruce Park,
indeed, was a sight to see, despite the fact that the Cathcart Railway
carried its thousands that afternoon to the south-side. There were not a
few buxom country girls in the crowd, enticed thither by no great love
of the game--which, of course, they did not understand--but by their
sweethearts, just to let the young persons of the place see that they
had lads as well as their neighbours. There was one winsome lassie among
them, however, who would have done credit to Burns' incomparable 'Queen
o' the Glen.'
"Emma was the only sister of a young farmer in the district. It is a
mistaken notion to suppose that farmers in Scotland are by far too
plodding a class to indulge themselves in anything savouring of English
games and pastimes, particularly football, but this is a mistake. I know
several farmers in the country who love the dribbling game dearly, and
do their best to promote its interests in the way of supplying ground to
not a few young clubs dotted over the country. In fact, Emma was the
beauty of the whole parish, and all the young men for miles around were
well aware of it. No one could deny it, and even the most unreasonable
of fellows, Charley M'Gowan, the schoolmaster, and Alfred Walker, the
lawyer's clerk, were forced to acknowledge it.
"'Talk about Sydney's heavenly Geraldine,' said young M'Gowan to me one
afternoon on the road to practice, 'she beats her hollow.' M'Gowan,
however, was a bit of a cynic, and Emma soon cast him off for Walker. He
was a fine singer, and in after years, when he became a confirmed
bachelor, delighted to sing songs about the inconstancy of the fair sex.
He used to hum out Goethe's 'Vanatos,' and more particularly that
verse with reference to the fickle fair ones, which ran
"'I set my heart upon woman next--
Hurrah!
For her sweet sake was oft perplexed;
But ah!
The false one looked for a daintier lot--
The constant one wearied me out and out--
The best was not easily got.'
The Yankees, however, had a high opinion of our feminine beauty, and the
impressions made on the gallant youths that Saturday afternoon were of
the most favourable order. The Romans, in fact, were not more captivated
with the beauty of the Sabean maidens than were the young Americans with
the lovely Scottish girls who gave them such a hearty reception at Bruce
Park in April, 1901.
"Walt Vanderbilt, their captain, was a fine-looking young fellow, about
25 years of age. Ere this the young Americans had completely discarded
whiskers, and Walt formed no exception to the rule, with his
closely-shaven cheeks and well-formed moustache. Good work in the field
in the way of practice had made Walt's form show complete development,
and I am inclined to think that a finer specimen of a football player
never toed a ball. The goalkeeper of the team, too, young Lincoln, was
rather a nice-looking fellow, nearly six feet high, and
well-proportioned, with eyes sparkling with humour, but he lacked the
fine open countenance of his captain.
"The other members of the team were much of the ordinary type of
humanity, just like our average football club men, with any amount of
nerve and energy. If they felt excited at the magnitude of the work they
had in hand they concealed it well, and looked as if they were merely
entering the field to do a little practice. They wore the sign of the
American eagle, dotted over with the emblematical stars and stripes. Our
fellows had also an imposing appearance, with the lion-rampant on their
jerseys, and, although looking rather douce and uncertain about the
game, determination was depicted on every face.
"The names of the gentlemen who entered the field were as under:--
"_Scotland._--F. Wallace (South-Side Swifts), goalkeeper; T. Glen
(Queen's Park), D. Smollet (Vale of Leven), backs; W. M'Millan
(Dumbarton), F. M'Neil (Rangers), half-backs; K. M'Geake (Pollokshields
Athletic), P. Livingstone (Kilmarnock), K. Watt (Edinburgh Rovers), T.
Stewart (Volunteer A.C.), T. D. Coats (Paisley Combination), and G. F.
Turnbull (Clyde), forwards.
"_America._--W. R. C. Lincoln (New York Caledonian), goalkeeper; V. H.
Grant (Texas Rovers), W. C. Vanderbilt (Hamilton State Swifts), backs;
J. H. Armstrong (Chicago Association), D. Steel (Nebraska Electric),
half-backs; D. C. Bramey (Victoria Boys), R. S. Chandler (Utah
Gentiles), P. Whitehouse (Newhaven), J. S. Bryan (Alaska Pilgrims), W.
D. Bangle (San Francisco Racers), and T. Lawrence (Washington House),
forwards.
"_Umpires._--J. W. Marindin (South Australia), and D. Y. Jones (Canadian
Association). _Referee._--W. H. Littleton (English Association).
"Before the game began, the Yankees offered to bet level money, and some
of their red-hot plungers even went the length of two to one on their
chances; but they were promptly told that the days of betting and
wagering at football matches, cricket, horse-racing, and all genuine
sport, were now numbered with the past in the United Kingdom.
"Gentlemen, in fact, who loved and enjoyed sport for its own sake, and
for that part of it, ladies too, had voted betting 'low and unmanly,'
and even degrading, and as Parliament had been repeatedly petitioned on
the subject, a bill was almost unanimously passed in the dying year of
the nineteenth century abolishing betting.
"The Loyal Irish Party (late Home Rulers), and the Rado-Toro Democratic
Party (led by Lord Randy Chapel-Mountain), whose hair was beginning to
get silvery-grey, and his long moustache to match, did not even oppose
the bill, and it passed. Never did a legislative enactment work such
improvement among the masses as this bill. It completely banished all
needy souls and black-legs from the arena of honest sport, and left the
field to those who came out of an afternoon and evening to enjoy
themselves in an honest way.
"The coarse language, too, of which our forefathers justly complained
twenty years ago, had almost disappeared, whether through the effects of
the School Board, I would not like to say, but one could now take
sweetheart or wife to enjoy themselves, provided always, of course, the
weather was at all suitable.
"As for professional football players, no such thing had been heard of
for years. They certainly died hard, but eventually no club would have
anything to do with them.
"'What is that?' 'Oh, it's the bell to begin.'
"Well, the game did begin in earnest, immediately after a fair lady had
thrown out the leather ball from the Grand Stand at the right-hand side
of the field. There was no tossing for choice of ends, for a new rule
had been just added to the revised code enacting in a most chivalrous
way that strangers or visitors be allowed to select the side of the
ground they preferred to play on for the first half-hour--for you must
know, my readers, the term now allowed for the game was one hour, and
that when the ball was kicked into touch, there was no throwing back
into play with the hands, but it was kicked from the touch-line straight
out before play was again resumed.
"For some time the forwards kept the leather close to themselves, and
the Yankees on the left wing, by a fine piece of manoeuvring, were
successful in getting it away, amid tremendous cheering. Chandler, who
was one of the fastest sprinters in the world, and had beaten the record
in San Francisco in the fall of last year, got through his men in
brilliant form, and came down on the goalkeeper like 'winkum.' Just as
he was poising himself, however, for a final shot, M'Neil deliberately
crossed the field from the opposite side, and after dodging about the
young American, rushed in and took the leather away, and keeping it
between his feet for a couple of seconds, kicked it clear of the Scotch
goal. A good deal of heading afterwards occurred near the home goal--the
ball getting close on the lines several times, and even passing them.
Many considered before the game began that the Americans would never
have a 'look in' at all, and great was their dismay when they actually
beheld their champions hotly pressed on their own ground, and look like
losing the day. With a brilliant charge the Yankee forwards crowded
round the Scotch sticks like a hive of bees on a June morning, and a
straight shot from the foot of D. Steel, who rushed in from his place at
half-back, caused the ball to glide past the Scotch goalkeeper like a
rocket.
"This was the signal for tremendous excitement. Crowds of partisans and
friends who had come over with the strangers, and many enthusiastic
lovers of the game and fair play, raised a loud cheer, again and again
renewed, at this piece of grand play on the part of the Yankees. The
intensely interested Scotchmen, however, while they certainly admired
the pluck and fine play of the visitors, and cheered in a mild kind of a
way, even though an enemy wrung it from them, kept very quiet, and not a
few white faces might have been seen about the wire fence which kept
spectators and players apart on Bruce Park on that memorable day. They,
however, kept their own counsel, and quaintly said to the Yankees who
chaffed them on the point, that howling was a very good thing in a way,
but it should not be indulged in till people were out of the wood.
"The teams then faced each other in midfield, and the ball had no sooner
left the Scotch captain's foot than it was taken away, and dribbled down
the centre by Bryan, Whitehouse, and Lawrence, and when half-time was
called the latter was just finishing a good shy, which sent the ball
over the bar. According to the new rules a quarter of an hour was
allowed as an interval, and during that time speculation ran high as to
what was destined to be the final issue.
"To indulge for a moment at the idea of the Americans beating the Scotch
on their own ground in the great International was a sore point for the
bulk of the spectators with Scotch faces, but they said very little.
They had a secret hope that their champions would eventually pull off
the game, even though they had a goal to make up, and only half-an-hour
to do it. They had, it was remembered with pride and satisfaction,
pulled through many a doubtful match before, and Scotchmen, it was well
known, were not easily beaten.
"The young lady again threw up the ball, and Tam Glen, getting a good
hold of it at his left foot, made one of the finest fly-kicks ever seen
in a match, and the forwards on the Scotch side following well up,
completely puzzled the Yankee backs and half-backs by their brilliant
passing. Before you could say Jack Robinson, M'Geake shied for the
American goal, and the ball knocked off the cap of the goalkeeper, and,
hitting the bar, bounded back into the field of play. A hard and
exciting scrimmage followed, and amid breathless excitement the Yankees
cleared their goal. Five minutes of very even play followed, and then
the Scotchmen set their teeth and made a desperate effort for victory.
"Only ten minutes of the game now remained to the good, and there was,
you may be sure, no time to lose. One goal behind, and at the great
International, too! It would never do to allow America to whip creation,
even at football! One final effort; no, two final efforts, and it was
done.
"The Scotch captain was seen to whisper something to his team, and in a
few minutes the grandest run which was probably ever witnessed since
football became a scientific sport in the world, was started, and,
before the American backs, half-backs, and goalkeeper could realise
their position, the Scotchmen bore down on the visitors' goal, and
literally dribbled the ball clean through. This was, you may be sure,
the signal for an outburst of cheering, which must have been heard over
the half of the big city of Glasgow, which now contained over a million
of inhabitants.
"The game, however, was not yet won--it was only a tie--and when the
representatives of Brother Jonathan again started the ball only four
minutes remained, but it proved a bad four minutes for the
representatives of the stars and stripes. Another run, backed up by a
shooter from the left foot of Turnbull, settled the great International
for that year at anyrate. Those who had hitherto viewed the game in
moody silence began to come out of their shells (talking piscatorially)
and join in the universal huzzah.
"The Yanks were now fairly cowed, and when another grand piece of play
by Stewart, backed up at the proper moment by Watt, put a third goal to
the credit of the Scotchmen, the visitors, in the most gentlemanly way,
heartily joined in the cheering for the victors. When the referee's
whistle was sounded, the Scotchmen were declared the winners of a
hard-fought field by 3 goals to 1. The crowd completely besieged the
pavilion at Bruce Park at the close, and cheered lustily as the Scotch
champions made their way up the steps. Nor were the vanquished Americans
forgotten. They came in for a round of hearty cheers for their pluck.
"There was a dinner given to the distinguished strangers in the evening,
and the usual complimentary toasts proposed and duly acknowledged; but,
as I was not present, I am unable to say who spoke best and gave the
most enjoyable song.