Part 18: Football at the inception of the Football League

Considering football had been widely known and seen in Lancashire and the West Midlands for not much more than ten years, the ascendancy of the clubs in those parts by 1886 was quite remarkable. They were ten years or so behind the South to begin with, yet quickly caught up and by now were playing more successfully, organising more thoroughly, and had some of the loudest and most powerful voices in the debates of The Football Association. These clubs were domination the game, setting the fashions, forcing the changes both in the way the game was played and the way it was administered.

For the provincials of Lancashire and Staffordshire took football seriously, very seriously indeed. In the South, it was a game, but the North made it almost a way of life. In London, one played football for enjoyment; in Bolton the remark was heard, “We haven’t come here for fun; we’ve come to play football”. It may be strange to reflect that many of the officials, backers, and supporters of the clubs in Lancashire and the Midlands had never even played football themselves, not having had the opportunity until they were too old to take it. But they knew it all – or thought they did, and they were confident enough to express their views in an open and forthright manner in front of men like Major Marindin and Mr. Alcock who were old hands at the game even before the foundation of The Football Association. Though they lacked the best in football education, though their failure to appreciate the nice distinctions of the customs and usages of the game could leave their opponents in debate speechless with despair, they were not stupid men. They took to the pastime, picked out what they liked from it and sought to reshape it to heir likes and fancies. And because they were clever, confident, powerful, and successful, they had to be listened to.

They had a lot to say. Some of it contributed wonderfully to the enrichment of football and to its administration. Much of it could be steered into useful channels, but some of it brought lasting harm to the sport. However, as fully paid up members of the Association, they had at least a titular right to assert, to deny, to persuade, and to vote, as any other member. Whatever one may think of the parrot-cry “One man, one vote”, where it applies it must be upheld.

On the field of play, the modern line-up was two fullbacks, three halfbacks, and five forwards. The old idea of two halfbacks and six forwards was still to be seen now and again, but the formation was dying out.

In the old days, a forward always reckoned the quickest and surest way to goal was straight down the middle, and he dribbled and jinked, and barged his way through the opposition. The new style was to spread the opposing defence by playing along the wings, a smart run along the touch-line where the defence was thinnest, then “middling” the ball in the goalmouth. It took the football world a long time to provide an adequate defence to this sort of attack. As the “winger” raced past his man, beating him more often than not, by sheer speed along, many an old spectator was moved to lament Dribbling is a lost art, nobody knows how to dribble the ball any more”.

Whether that complaint was justified or not, some of the best players were very tricky in their footwork, inspiring some of the less skilful to follow their example. The controlled half-volley was coming into fashion, the player (especially if he was a wing-man), taking a longish pass, and chipping it delicately over the head of an adversary. This was a gentle use of the half-volley, not the thunderous clout so long practised by the fullbacks. And another little trick, this time one from the old-timers, was being resurrected – the screw shot which curled the ball in its flight. But now there was an added refinement, making it a ground shot, or “daisy-cutter”.

Using the rules of the game to best advantage was quite the thing in the provinces, even if it meant “bending the rules” occasionally. A man in an offside position must not interfere with the play or with an opponent, but as the laws said nothing about “pretending” to interfere, this was thought to be alright. So a man offside would “feint” as if intending to play the ball, whilst a colleague secured it. And some referees allowed it, though it was clearly illegal. Because, of course, some referees suffered from the same inadequate knowledge of football as the players.

And is the position any better today? Attend any branch meeting of the Referees’ Association and you will find men who have failed to grasp the meaning of “offside” and who have not understood the “advantage clause”.

Part 19 of the Early History of Football