It's An Honour And A Joy To Write Football Obituaries

I WRITE a lot of sporting obituaries, because, as one Obituary Editor unkindly reminded me: “You're the only hack still on the tools who saw most of these guys play.”

It's a funny old job writing sporting obituaries, because, all too often your subject is best known for doing something perhaps half a century ago. The newspaper readers who remember him or her are mostly senior citizens, but, we are told, it is the senior citizens who form the backbone of the decreasing market for the “dead trees press,” so I should be thankful for small mercies.

The most recent obituary I wrote, concerned an 88 year old Highland gentleman; a man who enjoyed a long and distinguished career in the Civil Service. I like, whenever possible, to speak with a close family member, perhaps a son or daughter, occasionally a grieving widow, to get a more-rounded picture of someone whom most of us only saw from the terraces.

From such conversations, you gather the gold dust which brings an obituary alive.

 John Valentine in Queen's Park's colours

picture by ANL/REX/Shuttershock

Sadly, in this last one, this was not possible, so, when trying to adequately sum-up the life of the late John Valentine, I was forced to go to the newspaper archives. John Valentine could have, and probably should have been a contender – to be a great Scotland centre-half. He came out of Buckie Thistle and Queen's Park, to be chosen as: “the One” to take-on what was probably, at the time, the hardest job in Scottish football.

He had to replace, not one but two legends, in the number five shirt for Rangers.

Valentine arrived in Glasgow, to study at Glasgow University. He joined Queen's Park, and quickly broke into the first team, for whom he wore the legendary narrow black and white stripes in over 150 games. His timing was good, since the Spiders team he would star in was arguably the last Hampden club outfit to make a dent in the consciousness of the Scottish football public.

Frank Crampsey might not be as well-remembered as his legendary brother, polymath Bob, but, he was a class act. Charlie Church, Junior Omand, Bert Cromar are Queen's Park legends. George Herd and Bert McCann would go on to play for Scotland, Max Murray to score a lot of goals for Rangers, Alex Glen would win Under-23 honours while with the club. This was a seriously-good side.

Valentine proved to be a commanding centre-half, winning Scotland Amateur caps, so when Rangers needed a centre-half, they went to the club's default position and raided Hampden, to sign Valentine.

As I wrote above, he wasn't being asked to replace one legend, but two. The contentious SFA decision to ban Willie Woodburn sine die, cost Rangers arguably the best central defender Scotland has ever had. But, at least, in George Young, who switched from right-back to fill the number five shirt, Rangers had another international legend. But, Young decided season 1956-57 would be his last, and Rangers boss Scot Symon felt, none of the young Rangers defenders was good enough to replace him, so, as soon as Valentine's amateur contract expired on 30 April, 1957, he became a Rangers' player.

Young, who still had two Scotland games to play, made his final Rangers appearance, in a Glasgow Merchants Charity Cup semi-final, against Clyde, at Ibrox on 4 May. Rangers won 2-0 and two days later, when they lined-up in the final, against Queen's Park, at Hampden, John Valentine made his debut, against the club he had left a week previously.

Rangers won 2-1, and, when the new season began in the August, Valentine was handed the number five strip. Sadly, he was not the first, nor the last new boy to struggle to establish himself at Ibrox. He was in and out of the team, In all, he would only play ten games for Rangers, never more than two in succession.

As he struggled, journalists noted, in a Rangers' shirt, he looked far from the dominant pivot he had been in a Queen's Park one.

His final game for Rangers has gone down in Scottish football folklore. On 19 October, 1957, “Hampden in the sun,” Celtic 7 Rangers 1. Such heavy defeats in football's most-passion-filled Derby demands a scapegoat – John Valentine was the chosen sacrificial victim.

Most players will finally admit, they had an opponent who “had” them; a man against whom they always struggled. It was Valentine's misfortune that his was Billy McPhail. McPhail was something of a “jobbing” centre forward. His elder brother John was a Scotland internationalist, and a Celtic club captain, a very good player. Billy wasn't considered as good; he was strong in the air, and scored goals regularly for Clyde, but, he was seen as injury-prone.

However, Celtic took him across Glasgow, and he was leading the Celtic line that day. McPhail always felt, he had the hex on Valentine, and he certainly proved it that afternoon, turning him inside-out and netting a hat-trick in Celtic's unlikely win – assuming any Old Firm win is unlikely.

The match unleashed a tsunami of Glasgow banter: “What's the time? - Seven past Niven,” has entered city folklore; as has the fable of the unfortunate George Niven, the Rangers goalkeeper walking down Buchanan Street on the Monday morning, to meet Celtic's Charlie Tully walking up it. Tully allegedly nodded, and Niven dived through a plate glass window into Fraser's.

But, it wasn't so-funny for Valentine, who carried the can for the heavy loss. He was immediately dropped to the Reserves and within weeks he was on his way to St Johnstone, replaced by the veteran St Mirren and Scotland centre-half Willie Telfer – a “Real Rangers Man” from Larkhall.

Willie Woodburn and George Young - the men he was recruited to replace,

and Willie Telfer, the man who did replace John Valentine, are all in this

Scotland squad for the game against France in April, 1949. 

Valentine played on until 1960, retiring, aged just 30, after captaining the Perth Saints to the Second Division title. He had played barely 200 senior games, but, a University graduate, starting to make his way in the Department of Agriculture, he decided, his football life was over, it was time for other things.

I would love to know what triumphs, big or small, John Valentine enjoyed during his Civil Service career. I was told he was highly-respected in his field, and a complete gentleman.

Sadly, I can only speculate on what he did in the sixty-one and a half years between his public humiliation over those 90 minutes at Hampden and his passing. I know he married twice, losing his first wife too-soon but marrying again. I know he is survived by his widow and his son and his family.

I know, some 40 years passed before he and Niven, meeting by chance in an Inverness supermarket, had a chance to sit down, talk through and get that game out of their system, finding some degree of peace.

I know too, Eric Caldow, another recently departed Rangers player scarred by that day, since both worked in the agriculture industry after football, did have a chance to meet-up with Valentine, and enjoyed his company.

But, the principal thing I know about John Valentine is, he bore no grudge against Rangers. I was told, after my obituary on him was published, by one of John Valentine's friends, that the signing-on fee which he got from Rangers, and which, as an amateur, was his to do with as he pleased, bought his first house.

What's that they say about that club – Real Rangers, not today's tainted “tribute act.” 'once a Ranger, always a Ranger.'

I like to think John Valentine was, at heart, a Queen's Park man, who played the game for F the game's sake, but, for all the adventure ended badly – he had something to be grateful to Rangers for.

In post World War II Scottish football history, there are two stand-out “villains” - John Valentine for the 7-1 game, and Frank Haffey for the 9-3 game at Wembley. The truth is, in the spirit of Kipling's 'If', Valentine and Haffey – still hale and hearty, aged 80 and living on Queensland's Gold Coast – were able to treat those twin impostors, triumph and disaster, both the same and get on with their long lives.

Maybe all those keyboard warriors getting het-up about Scotland losing to Kazakhstan should follow their example. Because, in the final reckoning, fitba: it's only a game.