BARRACKERS AT TOTTENHAM VISIT OF MANCHESTER CITY.

It is very seldom you see other than good, bright, and vastly entertaining football at White Hart Lane. In the matter of distinctiveness Tottenham Hotspur, who have their home in that part of London, are of a school perilously near to being defunct; very largely do they typify themselves. You may on occasion doubt whether they have the gift of adapting themselves to a game fashioned and insisted upon by a side all rush and hurry, but you must admire the delicacy, the precision, with which they invariably colour their play; and in their league match with what, owing to a variety of causes, was a strangely-built Manchester City team, it was delicacy and precision, at times tantamount to genius, which gave them victory by three goals to one. But from the point of view of a section of the spectators, this was not enough; they professed to see in the conduct of the visitors justification for “barracking.” For some reason, wholly inexplicable, in the game’s infancy, they made a target of Fayers, a little man, who was the right half-back of the Manchester side, for their jeers and gibes; his colleague, Goodchild, who was in goal, for no other reason, so far as I could detect, except that he had a mannerism – a kind of struttering run when he set out to kick the ball – also suffered to be harassed and held up to scorn and derision. And at the end the visiting players and official complained bitterly of their treatment. It was all very sad. Partisanship is understandable, as is also white hot enthusiasm, but under no circumstances is barracking excusable. handsome victory for the London team seemed probable. The full-backs from Manchester, Allen and Wilson, were unsteady and erratic; there was obvious weakness at right half, Fayers being slow and laboured; and there was about the visitors’ play generally a suggestion of crudeness. One had always the feeling that, because of their uncertain defence, they would be swamped. But they persevered, though I suspect they always realised that the odds were heavily against them, and a lapse on the part of the Tottenham defence gave Browell an opportunity to equalise. At the interval the score was one all. I counted Manchester fortunate to be then on a level footing. Their football had had much scrappiness in it; they were only good in spasms, and after the change of ends first Handley beat their goalkeeper and later Seed found the net; and Manchester retired well beaten.

In Goodchild the visitors had a trustworthy goalkeeper. I would not blame him for any of the shots which took effect, and his play was enhanced by the fact that he could not tell what his full-backs were about to do. Allen was especially weak, and Wilson did not appeal to me as being other than a desirable player to call upon in an emergency. There was only one half-back in the Manchester team who may be said to have touched greatness, Pringle, a Scottish International. He got through an enormous amount of work, and, taking the game as a whole, he held his own against Seed and Walden – a right wing of much merit. Hamill, the Irishman, who was pivot, was better in defence than attack, but before the finish he held out signs of distress. Fayers had neither the speed nor the ability to cope successfully with Dimmock and Handley, and if I were asked to select a visiting player who won most distinction I should declare for Daniel, who was at outside left. This Daniel made his first appearance in a League match. So well did he play, such was his confidence in himself, so surely did he make every use of his chances that he suggested the veteran rather than the novice. He is fast, he has the necessary qualities that go to make a great forward, and I am pleased to know that he is a local product. Browell, his partner, seldom rose above commonplace, and Johnson at centre did little more than rush and tear. He was not the ideal leader by any means. Small openings did he make for his wings, and slight was the impression he made upon the local defence. Roberts and Etherington, on the right wing, were mastered by Grimsdell, whose game was as good in every particular as any I have yet seen him play.