JAMES B. WEIR
— Bauldie | 17/04/1905 —

Although this seems a very high-sounding title to confer upon a player, it is one justly due this grand forward on his work. No player in the history of Scottish Association football from its inception to date has shown such power on or with the ball. In saying this I speak not from hearsay but from personal experience and practical observation of James Black Weir's abounding merits. You will naturally ask me on what this superlative estimate is formed, and I have no hesitation in complying with the request. He was, then, I should tell you, so physically built and so naturally gifted that he had on his side immense advantage over the great majority of players, not only of his own halcyon day, but of those who in rather indifferent day's have succeeded him afield. The striking peculiarities about his physique were his broad and rather rounded shoulders. His trade as a joiner with his father, the late William Weir, of Crosshill, Glasgow, doubtless developing and strengthening the Sandow-like shoulders. This feature in his form, together with a sort of half-stoop as he ran or dribbled with the ball, added to his power and made him on the ball a power most difficult to overcome by resort to force. 

As a sample of his power, I recollect when playing London Wanderers, with the Hon. A.F. Kinnaird, now the noble Lord of the name, on first Hampden, how James Weir on the ball began by gently disposing of the forward opposed to him, then walking up to the Hon. A. F. and repeating the process, then strolling along to the full back and causing him to kiss mother, earth, and, to crown all, finishing up by placing the ball past the goalkeeper. What time this was being done with an easy sang froid and delightful unconcern, as if there were neither ball nor men on the field. His comrades naturally looked on with silent admiration at Weir's work, although, as "Ta Sassenachs" went down like nine pins, lusty Willie M'Kinnon might chortle "Heo! hee! bee!" and merry Master Harry M'Neill's eyes twinkle with infinite glee. But there was another physical feature in James Weir's "make up" which even more than his strength, in my opinion, contributed to his wondrous power of retaining and manipulating the ball. This lay on the most peculiar shape of his legs, from the knee down, and from the inturning of his feet. The ball whom caught in thin crab-like circle was held as in a vice, and hence he could turn and twist it at pleasure, whilst to take it from him, save by use of force or resort to tripping or haoking, was almost an impossibility. Those who tried force (and not a few men did so) (I use the word men in its full and literal sense advisedly, gentlemen, for in Weir's day, happily, such played the game) found to their cost a tartar, and no mistake, and as often as not bit the dust, whilst Weir stood impregnable as a rock ready for the next "shuffle," or souffle, if you choose. 

No past or present player has had such a unique physique, and not a one set on the ball has been so difficult to shift. In saying this I do not limit, mind you, my reference alone to Scottish players, but to British, and hence the princely compliment which heads this appreciation. He was not one of your rushing, impulsive, dashing, impetuous players, but a cool, sagacious, cautious, close forward, whose every move was studied, and who watched his opponents with his unreadable, dull grey eye what time these thought that they were shut. He was not fast on the ball in the sense tha a John Bell, a Gulliland, an Athensmith, or a Spiksley are fast, but when the ball was clear and he had to make for and get it, his turn of speed was remarkable and his stride very deceptive. Once he did receive the ball, of course, it was "caged," and not till he chose to part with it would it be allowed to leave his iron grip. Although blessed with qualities that induced selfishness to a degree, still I cannot say he was really selfish, and I think the late Major Tom Laurie and A. Leckie, Walter Lamberton, his inside club partners, and above all John Ferguson, of the old Vale of Leven (now of Kilmarnock), his partner in the International v. England in 1874 at Pertick, Glasgow, could and would support this view of his play.

The manner of his introduction to the Queen's Park was rather unique, and quite accidental, and happened in this way. Strolling with a young friend of an evening from Crosshill to Mount Florida, the two passed through the public recreation park, and came to that part of it immediately in front of the Deaf and Dumb Institution, where the Queen's Park were having a practice game. On the ball coming to Mr Weir's foot, he let fly at it, with the result that he was called in question for what was termed "his impertinence." The sharp rebuff might have chilled other youths, but not so James Weir, for he returned to the practice ground, and soon joined the ranks of the Queen's playing in that pilgrim pitch until on the 18th of October, 1873, he with the eleven, marched proudly down from the Mount where they had dressed to original Hampden, then fringed on three of its sides with a huge hawthorn hedge, a vestige of which may still be seen in front of the western palisading of New Cathkin. On that date the Queen's played Dumbreck F.C. (long since defunct) in the first Soottish Cup-tie played by the Queen's for the cup they have held ten times, twice three years in succession. I should tell you that the Queen's colours on that occasion were the renowned black and white stripes, cowls, jerseys, and hose all matching; hence it was that they acquired the familiar sobriquet of the "Spiders." Queen's colours previous to this cup-tie were dark blue, and in these they played the first International for Scotland v. England. 

Save for the bedge to which I have alluded and an old stone bing well which stoed at the north- west corner of the ground, and was the grand stand of many a Cronhill and Govanhill youth, first Hampden was unprotected, the people from the Old Cathcart roadway viewing the play free gratis and for nothing. As the game became popular, it occurred to the Queen's members that the field should be enclosed on the western side, and in this connection I want to tell you an instance of pure amateur- ism that does infinite credit to James Weir and James Phillips, the half-back, and elder brother of George Phillips, the predecessor86an athletic miler of Duncan, Hannah, Duffus, and Robertson of these later days. Joiners to trade, these two Queen's players, after their day's work was over, set to work, hammer in hand, and erected between them the first boarding which enclosed the field. This they did free gratis and for nothing, a service which proved how great was their love for the club and for the amateur principle upon which it was founded, and upon which it is still based as on a rock impregnable. I should, perhaps, at this stage tell you of an incident which illustrates the runal conditions that surrounded first Hampden. This occurred one Saturday afternoon in April, when waiting for the teams to appear, the crowd were startled by a hare scampering along the playing pitch. At first "puss" was taken for a dog, until, alarmed by its novel surroundings, it cocked its ears and sped helter-skelter away back in the direction of the Aitkenhead preserves, from which, doubtless, it had come for a crose-country run.

I have chosen James Weir at this time because of the barremness in Scotland of class right wing forwards. Had we men of his tamp and powers to-day there would be no need for Rangers or any other club to advertise for a player to fill this position, and no need for Selectors to place Robert Walker in the position so unsuited to his artistic walking powers. In rescuing the memory of the great Queen's Park forward from that oblivion which must be the fate sooner or later of great and small, of giants and pigmies. I do justice to the magnificent merits of one whose equal has yet to be found in the annals of British Association football. May his memory be ever green as the verdure of the "classic slopes," on which he was such a classic.