Socrates MacSporran

Socrates MacSporran
No I am not Chick Young, but I can remember when Scottish football was good

Friday 16 June 2023

Big Gordon Would Have Sorted-Out Erling Haaland

HOW are we going to handle Erling Haaland? This appears to be the major question around Stevie Clarke's tactics for the upcoming big game against the Norwegians.

Of course, the Manchester City star will be a major threat, but, he's not a one-man team, the Norwegians have one or two other more than useful players, so we should not become fixated with stopping the City goal machine.

Being something of a history buff, I had a look back at how we have in the past dealt with dangerous centre forwards.

Reading the Glasgow Herald report on Scotland's 1-2 loss to Wales back in November, 1947, is a return to simpler times. The result, our fourth defeat in seven games, was mostly down to the SFA Selection Committee, who had picked seven Anglo-Scots in the team, only two of whom, according to the Herald's anonymous 'Football Correspondent' were worth their place.

The Selectors paid some heed to the advice from the Herald's man, when they met to pick the next side, to face England in April, 1948, making six personnel and one positional change – we still lost.

Any way, the Welsh centre forward that day, Trevor Ford, was known as a physical player, to the extent that he upset immediate opponent Willie Woodburn, the Scotland captain, with his “rummel 'em up” style which the Herald described as: “robust”; to the extent, Woodburn received censure from the Herald for: “retaliatory tactics near the stand touchline in the second half, which should have no place in international football.”

Knowing Woodburn's reputation, we can take it, Mr Ford knew he was in a game. Any way, fast forward 11 months and the Scots travel to Cardiff. No Woodburn, George Young has the job of marking Ford.

Legend has it, the first time Wales attacked, Ford dumped Big Corky on his back side; however, next time he tried it, Ford was sent flying into the crowd and this quietened him down considerably as Scotland cruised to a 3-1 win, their first victory over another home nation in just under ten years.

Fast forward to the 1970s where we find Martin Chivers of Tottenham Hotspur is the most-feared striker in English football. Spurs are entertaining Manchester United at White Hart Lane and United have a young and relatively-untried centre-half, one Jim Holton, set to mark Chivers.

Let hiim know you're there early-on,” is United boss Tommy Docherty's pre-match advice to his young defender, one he gets an early chance to take. That Spurs team had a well-honed set-piece move: a Jimmy Robertson corner to the front post, where Chivers would rise and back head the ball across goal, for the late-arriving Alan Gilzean to head it home at the back post – simples.

About five minutes in, Spurs win a corner, Chivers goes front post, with Holton in tow; only, when the ball comes across, Holton simply thumps Chivers from behind, knocking him into the crowd of photographers. There is a lengthy hold-up while Chivers is brought round by the physio and as he walks back onto the pitch he tells Holton: “You're nothing but a dirty big Scots Cunt.”

Aye, and don't you ever forget that,” was the Holton response as Chivers took himself off to play on the left wing for the remainder of the game.

Now, I know Haaland is a big laddie, but, should we not summon-up the spirit of Young and Holton to deal with him? It might be worth a go.




WE LOST Big Gordon McQueen this week. On the plus side, he is at last free from the horror of Dementia, but, like so-many, he has been taken far too soon.

 

Gordon was a class act, and from a genuine footballing family. His father had a lengthy career as a goalkeeper, while his elder brother Iain was a major figure in Junior Football, including a lengthy spell at the sharp end of administration inside Hampden.

Gordon, of course, is in the Halls of Fame of his three clubs – St Mirren, Leeds United and Manchester United. He captained Scotland, and won what was then a record 30 caps for a centre half. He went to two World Cups, but sadly never actually played on the game's biggest stage.

He had a short spell in management, while boss at Airdrie I Middlesborough, before becoming one of the better ex-player talking heads on Sky.

His final decade was blighted by illness, he fought and beat Cancer, but fell prey to Dementia. After Middlesborough he had settled in a small village in North Yorkshire, perhaps it reminded him of his native Kilbirnie, in North Ayrshire.

Gordon McQueen had a great career, the highlight probably scoring the winning goal, for Scotland against England, at Wembley, in 1977. If there is a Heaven and if what we impressionable Scots learn at our Grannie's knee – then, that towering header alone guaranteed Gordon a seat at the right hand of God.

I met him once or twice, he was always gracious, never more-so than when he dropped me a line to thank me for sending him a copy of the Paisley Daily Express, after I had, as Sports Editor, overseen the selection of the all-time St Mirren XI, with McQueen at centre-half.

To refer to the item at the top of this blog post – I am absolutely certain, Erling Haaland would not have got much change out of Gordon McQueen in a game, but, it would have been one helluva battle.





 

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