7 January 1950 Blackpool 4 Southend United 0


BLACKPOOL HAVE EASY PASSAGE AFTER ALL

Early Southend fire - then class tells

THREE FOR SLATER

Blackpool 4, Southend United 0

By “Clifford Greenwood”

NEVER have I seen streets near a football ground on a Cuptie day quieter than they were this afternoon three-quarters of an hour before the Southend United match.

It was different inside the ground, for there the old familiar hullabaloo raged - a tumult of rattles, bells, bugles and parading mascots.

Southend’s faithful 816 pilgrims - 800 in a special train which reached the town only an hour before the kick-off and will leave it before five o’clock, and 16 in two planes - were making all the noise which everybody is supposed to make at a Cuptie.

When the Atomic Boys appeared it was a rare old riot.

All the non-ticket terraces and the Kop were packed before two o’clock, and every time the mascots paraded past them there was a tumult which silenced the music of the band.

Yes, in spite of the placid prelude this morning it was a Cuptie according to the expected pattern in its preliminaries, even to the solemn ritual of leaving Stanley the duck in the centre circle and this time even to the appearance of a donkey with a jockey with Stanley Matthews’ No. 7 on its back.

One hopes for the sake of Mr. Matthews’ reputation on the turf that Parbleu is faster than this steed.

DECEPTIVE GROUND

The pitch, which when I saw it yesterday bore a close resemblance to one of the first war pictures of Flanders, with one goal area under huge covers, had rolled out to a surface which seemed deceptively firm and level from the Press box but which would soon, I think, churn into a gluepot.

Blackpool had to field two reserves, one Gordon Kennedy in the full-back line, and the other Rex Adams in the attack.

Southend were able to field Len Jones, the ex-Plymouth, halfback at outside-right and admitted frankly that they were at full strength.

Blackpool: Farm; Kennedy, Garrett; Johnston, Hayward, Kelly; Matthews, McIntosh, Mortensen, W. Slater, Adams.

Southend United: Hankey; Loughran, Walton; Wallbanks, Sheard, French; Jones, McAlinden, Wakefield, Morris, Clough.

Referee. Mr. J. W. Topliss (Grimsby).

THE GAME

First Half

“The Atomic Boys” led a Blackpool reception in the sort Of cheers which a Blackpool team seldom hears on this ground.

There were big empty spaces on the south paddock, and it was definitely no record attendance, probably according to my estimate, fewer than 30,000.

Harry Johnston won the toss and Blackpool defended the south goal. It had to be defended, too, in the opening minutes, with Farm out to take a loose ball bouncing towards him in the first few seconds.

Young Adams built Blackpool’s first advance -with a long crossfield pass, which was correct tactics on such a field, but Matthews sliced his centre tamely back into a Southend defence massed as one expected it to be.

It was the outsiders, as often happens in Cupties, who almost dictated the opening passages. Twice Kelly crossed to his wrong wing to halt raids which were fast, direct and had no nonsense about them.

FALLING CENTRE

Clough ended one of these raids with a shot lobbed a long way wide, and a minute later, too, Jones crossed a high, falling centre which Farm held and was clearing with three forwards challenging him as the referee’s whistle came to his aid.

A Blackpool raid, apart from spurts by Mortensen after Slater’s passes, was still infrequent with 10 minutes gone.

The nearest, in fact, that the First Division men came to a goal in those opening minutes was when the aggressive Adams was felled to earth out on the left wing and from the free-kick Matthews hit the ball, as it passed knee high in front of him, a couple of feet over the bar.

Otherwise, Southend were so fast to the ball, so fiery in the tackle, that Blackpool, without losing any composure, were making little of these Third Division men with the first quarter hour approaching its end.

KENNEDY THERE

Forthright clearances for Blackpool

I noticed Gordon Kennedy making two of the sort of tackles and two of the forthright clearances in which the Southend defence were specialising.

In the 15th minute the United were as near a goal as either team had been, as Wakefield, wandering out on to the wing, brushed Kelly aside with a sort of tackle which is often visited with a free-kick, and crossed into a barely-tenanted goal area a centre which Johnston, a man here, there and everywhere in the first 15 minutes, was in position to clear almost in slow motion.

In the 16th minute Blackpool won the afternoon's first corner and with it nearly a goal, for when Matthews crossed the ball Mortensen hit it as it was passing him and hooked it barely over the bar at a pace which would have left a Frank Swift standing.

Blackpool’s football was based on a design too close for the day and the mud, but by the end of 20 minutes the tide was beginning to ebb on the Blackpool goal and excursions into Southend’s territory were becoming frequent.

ROAMING CENTRE

Wakefield, the United’s centre- forward, roaming here and there, was at times as elusive as a wing forward, but so early in the afternoon it stood out a mile that Southend’s plan of action was based primarily on a massed defence.

Twice in as many minutes a wing forward escaped, crossed a ball into territory as bare of Southend forwards as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard of bones.

Yet when they moved in a line these United forwards knew the fastest and shortest rout to goal and took it, one of them, in fact, taking it so fast and with such violence that he upset the referee In the mud and was profuse in his apologies.

There was still not a lot in it with the first half-hour nearly ended, the only incidents at that time being a couple of fine headed clearances by Kennedy and a centre by Adams which Hankey held superbly.

TYPICAL CUPTIE

Play not of a high standard

The two reserves were not letting Blackpool down, even if in Blackpool’s football there was not yet any particular quality. It was, I suppose, in the old, old phrase “A typical Cuptie.”

Bill Slater was still seeking to find Mortensen with slow, deliberate lobbed passes, but repeatedly men in Southend’s blue leaped high to intercept them.

In the meantime, Blackpool attacked a lot, but something invariably seemed to go wrong with the last pass, and in front of the other goal Farm’s only employment for a long time was the collecting of passes too fast for the Southend forwards to reach or passes studiously steered back to him by his own defence.

The offside whistle also halted the United front line repeatedly.

It was not, therefore, all that exciting, and nothing at all illustrious happened until Matthews raced half the length of the field before crossing a centre which missed everybody until Adams raced excitably on to it and watched it cannon out of play.

BLACKPOOL AHEAD

Two minutes later, in the 34th minute of the half, Blackpool went in front. It was Harry Johnston’s famous long throw, which presumably Third Division teams know nothing about, that produced it.

Southend’s defence was unprepared for it, so unprepared that when the*ball sailed high into the goalmouth Mortensen leaped at it and was able to head it backwards.

On to it with that deceptive nonchalance of his W. SLATER moved and shot it fast and low into the net for the first goal he had ever scored in a FA Cuptie.

Inside-left Morris, is a desperate one-man swoop, nearly made it 1-1 in the next half-minute, shooting over the bar as he fell under a tackle by two Blackpool men closing fast in on him

AND ANOTHER!

Mortensen scores after a Matthews centre

Yet within two minutes of goal No 1 it was 2-0 when again the raid was built on the right wing.

This time a perfect pass inside the full-back by McIntosh gave Matthews an open field, left the wing forward to lob inside a ball inches out of Hankey’s reach which, after a bit of confusion almost under the bar, MORTENSEN hooked fast and wide of the fallen goalkeeper’s left arm Class was telling its tale, and Although in the closing minutes of the half there were several raids on the Blackpool goal none of them even remotely threatened to cause its downfall.

Half-time: Blackpool 2, Southend United 0.

SECOND HALF

The first cheer of this half, which opened with continuous Blackpool raids, was for Stanley Matthews for striding over Hankey instead of scoring as the goalkeeper fell in despair at his feet with half his goal open.

It appeared to have become a case of merely waiting for goals.

Rex Adams, after a free - kick perilously close in to the Southend goal, saw a thunderbolt of a shot cannon out off the United defence.

There were two or three scattered fugitive raids by Southend’s two fast wing forwards, in one of which Clough, as aggressive a raider as I have seen in action for a long time, left Kennedy sprawling, only to run full tilt into the path of the impassable Hayward.

THIRD GOAL

Slater header from a Matthews pass

In another raid, too, Jones from the other wing crossed a centre which Farm snatched away from a couple of forwards, and in another Johnston actually backheeled the ball through the gluepot to his waiting goalkeeper.

All the time, however, one had the impression that a goal for Blackpool would come whenever Blackpool felt inclined to score it. It came in the 10th minute of the half, and was so simple or was made to look so simple.

The hit-or-miss Southend defence conceded a free-kick half a dozen yards outside and to the right of the penalty area.

Matthews took it, crossed it as he alone can cross a ball, and left W. SLATER to leap at it and head it past Hankey’s right hand as if nothing could have been easier.

One had to admire Southend’s refusal to call it a day, even in the face of this almost impossible position.

HANKEY’S SAVES

There were several raids after this third goal, but not one of them had the remotest promise of a goal in it, whereas every time Blackpool advanced on the right Stanley Matthews made position for himself like the artist he is before raking Southend’s goal with a succession of centres which Hankey beat out brilliantly.

The Southend goal fell again, almost as if it were inevitable, in the 20th minute of the half. This time it was a penalty.

Matthews took a long forward pass from that grand half-back Johnston, who was constantly putting him in the game, and put it backwards for McIntosh. After it went the Scot, fell under Walton’s tackle, was being lifted to his feet and accepting an apology from the fullback almost before Mr. Topliss could point to the spot.

PENALTY SCORE

I had the impression that Stanley Mortensen sportingly declined the invitation to take the penalty, offered it to SLATER, who from the “spot” shot low past the hapless Hankey’s right hand to make it 4-0 with 25 minutes left and the match, except for a miracle, over.

In the succeeding minutes there were no signs of a miracle, but only signs that Blackpool were intent on increasing a winning lead.

Fifteen minutes were left and Blackpool missed a penalty.

This was a peculiar episode. Matthews went after another long forward pass, was taking it inside down the line as Sheard. who had crossed to challenge him, tackled him in a way of which Mr. Topliss disapproved.

Few people in the west stand heard the whistle, completely unaware of what had happened as the wing forward lurched back on balance again and crossed a ball which Mortensen shot low into the net.

- AND PENALTY MISS

A penalty, nevertheless, it had to be.

Again Slater took it, but this time the amateur, who wanted this goal for a Cuptie “hat-trick” - three in succession - shot far and away wide of the right post.

Not that it made any particular difference. This match had obviously been settled a quarter of an hour earlier, with the never-say-die United reduced to little except breakaways and desperate, almost despairing defence.

So, too, it went on to the end.

Result:

BLACKPOOL 4 (Slater 34, 55,  65 pen, Mortensen 36 mins)

SOUTHEND 0


COMMENTS ON THE GAME

CUPTIES often bring all teams down to a common level - and not such a high level at times. This was one of those matches which refused to prescribe to this pattern.

For about half an hour Southend United made a match of it, and to the everlasting credit of this Third Division team never laid down and died when their position was impossible.

But once Blackpool had taken the lead it was all over. Four goals came. Such was the complete dominion of the incomparable Matthews and his brilliant attacking wing-half Harry Johnston in the second half that there might have been half a dozen and a few others.

Once Blackpool had renounced the short pass there was only one end to it. with the half-back line as good as ever, the defence not at all reduced in strength by the inclusion of Kennedy, and the forwards making shooting positions almost at leisure in the last half hour.

THREE-GOAL AMATEUR

It was a triumph for the amateur Bill Slater, not only in front of goal but in the building of raids on to a goal which in the last 45 minutes was being menaced almost continuously.

Long before the end the men defending it were merely reduced to massing in front of this goal and clearing wherever and whenever they could.

Blackpool won as convincingly as a First Division team ought to win against a team from the Southern Section.




NEXT WEEK: It's all so pointless for the Villa

STRANGE how this horses for courses theory can be traced through football.

Portsmouth have never beaten Blackpool since the war. For nearly 30 years a Bolton Wanderers team never lost to Blackpool, who can never win at Wolverhampton. And so it goes on.

There is another illustration of it in the meeting next week of Blackpool and the Villa.

This will be the eighth match between the clubs in postwar football, and the Villa have still to win one.

The Villa, in fact, have never even scored a goal at Blackpool since the war, and enter next week’s game at Blackpool after four successive defeats and a goalless draw at Villa Park earlier this season.

These sequences have to end sometime, but there seems to be no particular reason why this one should end next weekend, even if in Trevor Ford, the Villa possess one of the most menacing centre-forwards in the country, and in Ivor Powell, one of Blackpool’s wartime guests, a captain and a wing-half who, like the good Welshman he is, revels in forlorn causes.

Undefeated at home since September 3, Blackpool should still be undefeated after this match. But it would be unwise to think the Villa will take it for granted that the fates have decreed that they should never win beside the seaside.


THE MORTENSEN STORY — No. 7

SUDDENLY THE SPEED COMES


WHEN THE WAR CAME AND FOOTBALLERS WERE SCATTERED ALL OVER THE MAP, A YOUNG, DISILLUSIONED FORWARD LEFT BLACKPOOL FOR THE HOME HE HAD LEFT WITH SUCH HIGH HOPES SUCH A SHORT TIME BEFORE.

They had told Stanley Mortensen that he was “too slow to go to a funeral,” and, he confesses, “They were right, too.”

How, before enlisting for air crews in the RAF, he went back to work on the docks in the north-east and, playing football at South Shields and Ashington, suddenly discovered that he had acquired the missing speed at last, Stanley Mortensen tells in this further instalment of his book, “Football is My Game,” a best - seller which has now gone into its second edition.

And I reap a harvest of goals

By Stanley Mortensen

I HAD been a professional for just over a year when the war came, and I went home to South Shields.
What had I to show for it?

I was heavier, taller, and fitter than ever before in my life - not fat, but heavy with the right kind of weight, developed by the healthy life I had led at Blackpool. I had grown up, in a sense.
I had been away from home, learned to stand on my own feet.

I had picked up the footballer’s language bv listening to the older players, and knew what they meant when they talked of certain situations or certain types of play.

I had learned to take care of my body. Physical fitness had always appealed to me; now it became an obsession. Training had never been merely a dull routine, to be got through with a minimum of bother and in a minimum space of time. I actively enjoyed every minute of it.

Forward again

BUT I hadn’t much to show in the way of football success. I had gone to Blackpool as a forward. I left the club as an experimental half-back, and I had not even managed to climb into the Central League team.

So it was home, to Mother. I got a job, naturally returning to the docks. But football was kept going all over England, even if the League had closed down under the impact of the first shock of war, and I got a game for any team that would have me.

I reverted to inside-forward, and a forward I have been ever since.

I have lost count of the teams I played for during the war years. No game was too hard or too long. The variety of shirts I wore!

Why, once I even turned out for a police team. If our opponents thought I looked a bit on the short side playing with so many finely-built fellows, they said nothing, perhaps thinking 1 was a wartime recruit!

Three-goal game

THEN, suddenly, I found I was developing. It came just like that. It was as though there had been latent talent waiting to come out, and it burst through in a matter of a few weeks.

I had a game at centre-forward for South Shield reserves. I would have recalled this game whether I had “come off ” or not, because we were playing against Sunderland “A” and the opposing centre-forward was none other than my boyhood hero, Bobby Gurney.

I was largely among grownups, but I had one of my best days. Although I was really new to the centre-forward position, the others fitted me in, and I managed to score three goals.

It was my first real success since the days when the ex-schoolboys’ team were cleaning up all opposition in their own neighbourhood; so it was somewhat overdue.

The great ones

THAT match really marked my arrival in first-class football. I had played alongside some of the great ones of Soccer - and had held my own.

I got into the South Shields first team, but a little later I began playing for Ashington in the Wearside League, and my football forged ahead.

Now what happened to turn a very ordinary, very young and very inexperienced Blackpool player into a goalgetter?

I will tell you. As soon as I began playing for Ashington as a centre-forward on the strength of what I had been doing for South Shields I found I had to get away from the rival centre-half.


Beating the ‘policeman

I NOTICED that some centre-forwards stuck by the “policeman,” or third back, as though they were doing the marking instead of compelling the centre- halves to do the worrying and the watching.

So I began to move about the field, tearing off to the wing at the slightest suggestion of a chance to gather the ball, or haring towards the deadball line to chase any kind of stray kick. Balls that appeared to be going out of play became my special target.

I chased them never giving up until I had caught the ball or’ it was actually over the line.

I could feel myself improving. That precious speed came to me suddenly. Now I reaped the harvest of all those hours of coaching by Bill Tremelling, and those little tips about sprinting passed on to me by George Mee.

As a result of getting about the field and making the centre- half run about to places he did not want to run to, I often forced him into errors. Sometimes I would try to anticipate the run of the ball and nip off before the policeman realised what was happening.

Sometimes again, in my eagerness, I would get a flying start over my opponent. And so the goals began to come, and soon I had chalked up for Ashington one four-goal feat and four “hat tricks."

But meantime the war was dragging on. On the northeast coast many were in reserved occupations, but some of my older friends were going into the Forces; and one day my old footballing pal, Ernie Wright, and I decided to volunteer.

So off we went, passed our medicals, and were attested in the Royal Air Force. We were sent back home to await our call-up to put on uniform, and I still recall my mother’s shock when I told her what I had done.

In February, 1941, my papers came, and I left home again - but with what a difference. Instead of going off full of hopes to a new career at Blackpool, here I was saying good-bye to a mother full of apprehension and going off into an unknown world.

A new adventure had started.

After the primary training I passed on to the course set for a W/Op.AG  - wireless - operator air-gunner. The new life was to lead me near to death, but it helped me also to travel quickly along the football road.

NEXT WEEK - FOOTBALL IN WARTIME. FOUR GOALS IN FOUR MINUTES





Jottings from all parts

BY "CLIFFORD GREENWOOD" 7 January 1950

ONLY THE GOALS ARE LACKING

TODAY, WITH THE LEAGUE RELEGATED TO THE SIDELINES FOR A WEEK AND THE CUP STEALING THE FRONT PAGE, BLACKPOOL’S FIRST DIVISION POSITION CAN BE PUT UNDER THE MICROSCOPE,

What is revealed under it? Little which is encouraging, and scarcely anything at all that is depressing.

Comparisons with the three other postwar seasons establish that:

(1) The club is fielding its best defence since the war - in spite of the loss of those three goals in a quarter of an hour at Wolverhampton - probably its best defence of all time.

(2) The front line is not scoring the goals which a team third in the First Division table ought to be scoring.

(3) The reserve strength is greater than it has ever been since Blackpool won the Central League championship 30 years ago.

Blackpool's best since war

IT is interesting and informative to line up side by side the records since the war.

These are the figures:—

Goals

                    P W D L F A P

1949-50 .. 24 11 9 4 33 20 31

1948-49 .. 24 7 8 9 30 37 22

1947-48 .. 24 10 6 6 30 25 26

1946-47 .. 24 14 2 8 42 41 30

Nearest approach to this season’s returns was in the first postwar year, but even if the 1946-47 forwards obviously packed a greater punch in front of goal than the present line, the defence was infinitely more vulnerable, and, in fact, lost twice as many goals.

This present team, then, according to statistics, is the best postwar team to wear Blackpool’s colours.

Nobody will seriously challenge that claim.

***

Fewer goals

YET, obviously, there are still not sufficient goals in the forward line, too few coming from the wings, too few, to be frank, from every forward except Stanley Mortensen, who has actually scored 13 of the 27 credited to Blackpool forwards this season.

Not that this poverty in marksmen is peculiar to Blackpool. Fewer goals are being scored by nearly every team in the land.

And, except for Eddie Quigley, whose price was extravagant except for a club in desperate straits or with Preston’s vaunting ambitions, there has not been in the market for weeks a forward with a scoring reputation.

Milburn rumour

THAT Blackpool would sign such a forward, if the fee were not in the Eldorado class, can be accepted, and, in fact, there was a rumour this week, entirely without foundation, that the club were bidding for Jackie Milburn, the England and Newcastle leader.

The United, I know, are interested in a Blackpool forward and would offer a player in exchange, but there is less likelihood of the Newcastle board selling their centre-forward than of disposing of the stands at St. James’s Park.

Blackpool’s quest for shooting stars may in the end not have to be pursued as far afield, for there appear to be a few in the club’s own Central League team, which, with the aid of seven goals against a goalkeeper on an off day last weekend, have already this season totalled 54.

***

Reserve advance

THIS is only one fewer than were scored all last season, and, incidentally, the team have already collected one more point than all their games in 1948-49 produced.

Which is sufficient proof of the advance in this reserve team's resources.

Everything in the garden, in short, is a lot lovelier than a sceptical public during last summer said it would be. Perfection has not been achieved. But, then, whenever in this imperfect world, is it achieved? 

Never, at any rate, in football.

***

They prefer Tangerine!

BLACKPOOL have lost four First Division matches this season - and in three of the four, at Middlesbrough, Highbury, and Wolverhampton, the team have had to play in white because of a colour clash.

They are beginning to think there is a hoodoo on these white jerseys.

George Farm recalls that when he came into the Blackpool team in September, 1948, he was in six successive games without being once on the losing side until Blackpool went to Middlesbrough and lost there 1-0 - in white jerseys.

And they played in white at Wembley - and you know what happened there.

Anything in it? Of course, there isn't. It's just one of those coincidences.

JOE VISITS TED

FIRST port of call for Mr. Joe Smith, the Blackpool manager, after his team had gone off to a pantomime on the eve of the Wolverhampton Wanderers match, was the home of his old partner, Mr. Ted Vizard.

Those were the days - so I am always being told and am prepared to believe, writes Clifford Greenwood when those two were the Bolton Wanderers’ left wing, when they had such an intuitive knowledge of each other’s moves on the field that only the Piddingtons in this present year of grace could approach them.

Their friendship has been as enduring as their partnership as footballers was illustrious.

These days “Ted,” who not so long ago was guiding to fame the destinies of Wolverhampton Wanderers, seems to be one of football’s forgotten men. It is a game which so soon forgets.

Which is. I think, a pity - for football.

***

HERE today - and gone tomorrow, the fate of footballer.

When I was at Wolverhampton a year ago everybody was singing the praises of young Jimmy Dunn, son of a famous father who made his name at Goodison Park.

Jimmy shot the goal which beat Blackpool in the last season’s match.

I was in Wolverhampton again last weekend, and when 1 asked about this young inside forward I was told that he was soon to have the second of the operations which may or may not make him fit for football again.

***

Reserves of quality

BLACKPOOL are not the only club with good reserves who have cost little or nothing. Take two of the Wanderers of Wolverhampton who defeated Blackpool a week ago.

For a long time to come the name of Raymond Chatham will, I think, be familiar in first-class football. He is a draughtsman, who has said that he will never sign a full-time contract in the game, and the Wanderers may never be able to persuade him to.

But if as a part-time centre- half he can often play such a game as he produced against Blackpool a week ago his fame in the League is assured.

And there was 19-year-old Royston Swinbourne, too, an inside-right who has been out of the RAF for only five weeks, and yet, until he tired, was in the authentic Wolverhampton tradition of inside forwards who storm into shooting positions, and, once in them, know how to shoot

***

It happened at Molineux

CURIOSITY of the Wolverhampton Blackpool match a week ago: The trainers were never once called on the field.

And another: George Farm had to repel 15 shots on his goal during the afternoon and Bert Williams was in action against possible scoring shots only three times - and one of the shots was by wing-half Harry Johnston.

And yet another: The Blackpool defence in 15 minutes lost as many goals as it had lost in the previous eight hours 42 minutes.

***

GEORGE DICK has resigned the Carlisle United captaincy.

Successor to him is another ex-Blackpool man, Tom Buchan, a wing half who at last is escaping the bad luck which dogged him all the time he was at Blackpool. These days he ranks as one of the Third Division’s best half-backs. Tom still lives and trains in Blackpool has never regretted his move north.

***

REMEMBER "T. W," ?

WHO should I meet in Wolverhampton a week ago but T. W. Jones, writes “C.G.”

He was always “T.W.,” never “Tom," to the Blackpool public during the years he played for the club before the war after a 1933 transfer from Burnley which nearly created a record in the town’s football.

He went to Grimsby when he left Blackpool and finished his playing days at Wellington last season.

It was a good innings.

“I was a professional 26 years,” he says - as proudly as he ever says anything, for he’s as quiet and modest as ever.

Nowadays he has a little shop in a town a few miles outside Wolverhampton, and is on the FA panel of school coaches.

How time flies! When he met the Blackpool team last weekend there were only three men in it  - Eric Hayward, Harry Johnston and Stan Mortensen - who were on the Blackpool staff with him  - and Mortensen, when “T.W." left, was still in the “A” team.

***


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