VIEWS ON OLD NORTH END
— "Perseus" | 21/02/1903 —

Resuming our series of talks with famous players of the past, interrupted last week by circumstances beyond control, we will hear the views of the Prince of Goalkeepers on various master of the same craft as himself, and listen also to what he has to say on the old team of which he was so bright an ornament. If any other than Trainer were speaking of great custodians he would probably, indeed almost certainly, award the palm to the talented Welshman who so long guarded the North End goal. But Trainer naturally speaks of others, and he classes Sutcliffe, Robinson, Reader, Doig, and Hillman as among the very best. For the old Bolton Wanderer, who will be facing the Prestonians to-day at Millwall, Trainer has a great admiration, reckoning him a fearless and remarkably able player. 

Trainer: He likes a bit of his own way, however, I remember a match on the Pikes-lane ground between the Wanderers and North End. Shortly before half-time it became foggy, and at the interval was so bad that the referee, Mr. Sam Ormerod, called Di Jones and myself together and suggested that the match should be 'off.' Di was unwilling, and Sutcliffe shouted, 'No, I should think not when we're leading; we're going to lick you.' 'All right,' said Mr. Ormerod, 'the match will have to go on to the finish whether the light gets worse or not.' Just after half-time the play took a turn in our favour, and we scored three goals in less than ten minutes. Soon after that I could hear Sutcliffer's voice away at the other end, which was quite obscured by the fog, calling pitifully to the referee whom he probably could not see, 'Mr. Referee, kindly stop the game; I can't see the ball.' But Mr. Ormerod held the Wanderers to their previous resolve, and the match was finished, North End winning easily. 

Touching upon the question of professional jealousy among goalkeepers, Trainer told a story illustrative of that guid conceit of himself characteristic of the old Burnley captain, Hillman. 

Trainer: Mr. Bentley had mentioned Sutcliffe and myself as the two best keepers of the day. Hillman, so a Burnley player told me, was very wrath at being passed over. On the following Saturday the East Lancashire team played at Stoke. During the game a shot was sent in to Hillman, who caught it as two forwards were rushing at him. Sticking to the ball, he grassed both these forwards and ran for about thirty yards, meantime knocking over a couple more opponents, all the time 'babying' the ball on his hand. Finally, he landed the leather near the Stoke goal, and as he ran back he was heard to say, 'What prince Bentley and his Trainer and Sutcliffe after that.' Doig's consistency has been magnificent. Joe Reader was a splendid kicker at low shots if they would only send them in fast enough. I recollect one match at West Bromwich in which our fellows put in some lovely low drives, but Joe kicked them all out. Someone then sent along a slow shot which hobbled over the uneven turf and over the Albion goalkeeper's foot into the net, giving us the only point of the game. Reader was sadly crestfallen.

Addressing himself to the question of the finest individual exhibition of goalkeeping he had ever seen, Trainer observed that he did not witness the display of Hillman singled out in one of my previous interviews by Geordie Drummond. Personally he had seen nothing to equal Toone's work for Notts County one afternoon at Deepdale. During the whole of the second half Notts never got more than forty yards from their own goal, and the Preston Forwards were shooting in great style, but Toone could not be beaten.

Passing on to consider the individual characteristics of old North End, Trainer said nothing about the goalkeeping, dealing first with Nick Ross — the finest back he ever saw, full of fire, absolutely fearless, a great tackler, and strong kicker. To complete his description of Ross, Trainer hinted that his methods were not always exactly irreproachable.

Trainer: He used to have a trick of tapping players on the ankle if they were getting past him. He frequently adopted this means of stopping Cobbold, the Corinthians' fast dribbler. 'Ross,' said the amateur on one occasion, 'I wish you would not kick me on my ankles.' 'Keep your feet away from the ball, and then I won't,' was the Scotchman's short reply. The finest game I ever saw Ross play was against Everton in one of the well-remembered series of semi-finals. It was marvellous the way he got to the ball before Latta, Brady, and Maxwell, even when they seemed to have yards start of him; they appeared to draw back before the fierce North Ender. Bob Holmes was a splendid back of an entirely different style. Instead of tackling a man after the fashion of Ross he would turn round, run alongside his opponent, and then, with his speed and judgment, take the ball from the player's toe and return it. Bob Howarth, another magnificent back, was the very antithesis of Ross, cool, judicious, and gentlemanly. Sometimes Ross would grumble at Howarth for not knocking a man down, but Howarth would answer, 'You play your game, Nick; allow me to play mine.'

Coming to the half-backs, high praise was bestowed on Sandy Robertson, who was quite an artist.

Trainer: He was such a good-tempered player, and I never saw him do a dirty trick, though at a pinch he could hold his own with the best. Only once did I see him really vexed, and that was in a match in Ireland. He was playing against the famous Peden, who had already been concerned in the breaking of four or five legs, and the game had not been going long before he fouled Sandy several times in a fashion which roused Robertson's wrath. Sandy came to me and said, 'Jimmy, this man's playing nasty with me; am I to have a go at him, or to go in for an afternoon off.' 'Have a go,' I said. Upon that Sandy watched his opportunity, and in vert little while he knocked the Irish terror over the rails. Peden had to be taken off, and he did not come back that day. Davie Russel was a half of the mad dog style; he seemed to be everywhere at once. He used to have a trick of kicking the ball practically off a man's head. Sometimes an opponent would say, 'What are you doing with your foot up there.' 'What are you doing with your head where a man can get his feet,' was the crushing retort. Most of the spectators thought Davie almost the fastest man in the team; this impression was probably produced by the tremendous struggle he seemed to make in his running. One day, however, after the track had been ready for the North End Sports, he challenged Gordon to a race once round. Gordon accepted, and Davie, winking at Johnny Graham, said 'Watch me take Gordon a ta-ta.' Before they had gone far Gordon began to draw away, and, always widening the gap, won by about 50 yards — a sad blow to Russell's pride. Graham, like Robertson, an artist, saved himself hundreds of yards of running about by making his effort at the proper time; his judgment was wonderful. He always said that the man who troubled him most was Billy Gunn, of Notts County, the best right winger he ever saw in his life.

Turning to the forwards, Trainer had no hesitation in declaring Gordon and Ross the peers of all other right wing combinations, incidentally mentioning that the next best he had seen consisted of Meredith and Ross, who played one of their most sparkling games at Deepdale two years ago. Goodall also was at the top of the tree. Men like Southworth and G. O. Smith were very effective, and the latter exceedingly pretty, but Goodall could give them points. Thomson was a fine centre on a heavy ground, and took a lot of knocking off the ball, but he was not equal to Goodall in passing on the run. For the left pair, Dewhurst and Drummond, Trainer had the warmest encomiums, observing that their understanding was perfect, and adding that Johnny Graham used to reckon Fred Dewhurst the hardest footballer he had known. He would play when his legs were in a shocking state through injuries, and would never think of looking after them. Trainer remarked that North End had had some splendid players, apart from the old brigade, and in this connection paid a high tribute to Moses Sanders.

Trainer: During a game Moses would sometimes turn round and shout, 'How are we going on, Jimmy?' Spectators on other grounds than Deepdale used to be greatly amused over this, and behind the goal I would frequently hear people remark, 'Yon silly fellow doesn't know how the game stands!' That was not the idea, however. What Moses meant was how was he playing. One day I called him to me, and said, 'You will excuse me if I tell you something?' 'Yes.' 'Well, you are playing like an old washerwoman!' 'I know I am,' he said, 'and yet I never ran about so much in my life. They are passing too much. I like a forward who will stick to the ball.'