Home of football statistics and historyPart 6: 1870-71 – The British weather and early hooliganism on the pitch
Those for whom the weather is a useful topic of conversation would have had plenty to talk about in the winter of 1870/71. Before Christmas it seemed to be raining all the time, – heavy rain, often accompanied by high winds. There were severe frosts in December and January with snow at times. And there was a week when a rapid thaw brought flooding. Some footballers were without a chance to play for more than six weeks. Yet in March the sun was so bright and the weather so hot that football was almost unbearable.
The unpleasant conditions caused by the British weather, apart from cancelling very many matches, made difficulties for those who were able to brave the elements; dribbling a round ball on a sheet of ice is not the easiest mode of progression, although trying to stop another dribbling on a skating rink is probably far less comfortable. A heavy ball on a heavy ground with the mud ankle deep needed some shifting, while attempting to tackle in such conditions hardly commends itself to a man unless he be quite devoid of feeling. There were many who, on looking out before starting to travel to the football field, were so certain that play would not be possible, at once returned to the comfort of the fireside; and some, having travelled, took one glance at the state of the pitch and the weather and declared they would “rather not”. As a consequence, short teams and late starts were the order of the day, and the stout hearts who actually turned out for play often had a less satisfactory game than they deserved.
Although first thoughts and sympathies in such conditions are all for the players, (and after all, it was their game), there were others quite badly affected. The club secretaries, desperately trying to bring order out of chaos, the faithful followers, huddled in their wretchedness, and also those upon whom devolved the thankless duties of umpires. (A few onlookers braved the rain which poured in torrents at Windsor Home Park on 4 February and they, not unnaturally, crowded around the goal at that end of the fields where all the action was, to the dismay of the umpires, whose task was made more difficult at those exciting moments when the spectators encroached on to the field of play.)
Footballer’s detractors,– they were many and articulate in 1870/71,– called the game brutal and dangerous. Those who denied the charges claimed that brutality was now out of date and that the game was no more dangerous than many another pastime. There was a lot of truth on either side.
Brutality, of a kind, could not be said to have disappeared, though it was much less frequently met with than previously and was unknown among the better class of player. Dangerous it certainly was, up to a point, the point being that a great deal of human activity is dangerous, but made tolerable by the exercise of common sense. Letting the facts speak for themselves, we have on the one hand, hundreds and hundreds of young men and boys the better for an hour or so of healthy exercise in good company; of another being carried off at Upton Park. Instances of players being put out of the game are to be found abundantly in reports of matches. However, a man leaving the field through injury is no proof of serious hurt. He might be only lightly cut, or bruised, or cramped; in some cases, (and especially if he was a bit “out of training”) he might feel he had “had enough”.
Just the same, football had its nasty accidents, its blood and pain. A reasonable man going out to play football was aware of the risk; what was objected to was the brute. As it was expressed at the time, “Attempts to throttle or to maim an opponent are totally opposed to the spirit of the game.”