ENGLISH CUP FINAL.
SHEFFIELD UNITED BEAT SOUTHAMPTON IN THE RE-PLAY.
Stalwart | 28/04/1902

TThere is generally a sort of watering down in the interest of a re-played match, and cup finals are no exception to the rule. At the Crystal Palace to-day the attendance was a good thirty thousand less than last week, and the all-assertive provincial was conspicuous by his absence. A few hundred came up from Sheffield to give a bit of tone to the proceedings, but to all intents and pirposes the 40,000 spectators composed a Cockney crowd biassed to the backbone in favour of Southampton. There were not quite so many celebrities at the Palace. Still, Lady Beatrice Viiliers, the daughter of the Earl of Jersey, who gave the cup away at the finish, made an attractive "presidente" of the proceedings, and, of course, most of the noble lights of the football world on this side of the Border. I am glad to say also that there was again a goodly corps of colleetors, on behalf of the Ibrox Park Fund, and although the receipts are not to hand, I expect the treasury will receive a very considerable addition to the fund. There was not quite so much excitement over the match as last week,, but it must be said that the general expectations fvoured a win for Southampton, who were deemed incapable of playing two such wretched games in succession as they showed us last Saturday. The sensational start of the game therefore came all the more as a disagreeable surprise to the crowd. Sheffield United, who were without Bennett (playing Common in his place, and Barnes of the reserves at inside right), had a stroke of luck in winning the toss, for there was more than a capful of wind blowing end on the ground. 

Breaking away immediately, the Blades never allowed the Southerners to settle down, and before their opponents had realised the situation, Lipsham had got past Newton and Fry, and centred to Hedley, who had no difficulty in beating Robinson all end up. This was four minutes from the start, and for some time to come the Saints were engaged in collecting their senses between the gusty attacks set up by Sheffield United. The first half was splendidly contested, however, and against the powerful wind Southhampton displayed a magnificent defence, and I am not sure that they had any less of the game than the Midlanders. Still, the circumstances favoured the Blades, who appeared to be doing well enough without Bennet, for Common put in a lot of telling work. The ex-Sunderland lad, however, put himself out of favour with the crowd at one end through "posing" at a spectator who had thrown the ball at him. It was an excusable bit of temper, but the crowd did not forget it, and right up to the interval he was greeted with a loud jeering every time he touched the ball. It was very unsportsmanlike of the spectators, but there it is — you cannot govern the prejudices of the multitude with an official whistle, and the mob was only appeased when Common went over at half-time and apologised to the person he had offended. After that all was peace ,and when the teams crossed over, the Blades still leading by a goal, there was every hope that Southampton would win. The conditions certainly favoured them, for, although the sun was rather troublesome, the wind was at their backs, and they appeared to be fresher than their opponents.

In the second half Southampton showed something of the form which enabled them to best the 'Spurs, Liverpool, and Bury, but it must be acknowledge that the Sheffield backs were very insistnt in the matter of tackling. Joe Turner, who was the biggest failure of last Saturday's game, was the star artist to-day, and he kept slinging centre after centre across. Brown, however, was deadfully weak, and spoilded the werk of the whole front line, Foulke, in grand trim, was a host in himself when it came to repelling the invader. Yet it was Brown who put Southampton on level terms, about midway through the half. Ten minutes of fierce pressure upon the Sheffield lines heralded the equaliser, and when Harry Wood with a clever run through put his centre in a position to get the coveted point, the applause was deafening. The Saints had fully 80 per cent of the game now, and the Turners and Chadwick were especially unfortunate in not adding to the score. Eagerness on the part of the Southampton backs led to the team's downfall, for Fry and Molyneux, both getting well up the field, found themselves unable to deal with a characteristic burst by Ernest Needham. The famous half dropped in a searching shot, which fell just under the cross-bar. Jack Robinson managed to fist it away, but without sufficient force, and the ball went over to Barnes, who rammed it home well and truly. It was a smart effort by the youngster, who thus justified his inclusion, and practically ended the game. There were ten minutes to go, but Southampton appeared to recognise the inevitable, and the last few exchanges consisted of desultory kicking out. 

I do not think the better team won, but Sheffield United deserved every praise for capturing the pot after so many disappointments, and especially considering the weakened state of their team. They were better opportunists than the losers, who had most of the game, but failed in the scoring line. The heroes of the winning side were Foulke (an easy first in valiant deed), Boyle, Wilkinson, Needham, Common, and Lipsham. But they all worked well, and the secret of their success was that they never gave up trying. Southampton were uneven, and more than one member of the team appeared stage-struck at times. A little coolness after they had equalised would have made all the difference, for they lacked the proper funishing power to their attacks. Brown was the broken seed amongst the forwards, but the Turners Chadwick, and Wood were always doing something clever. The Southampton halves played a good breaking-up game. Bowman being especially prominent, while Fry and Molyneux as a pair were rather inferior to the Sheffield backs, whose tackling was far more resolute and effective. Robinson had no chance with either goal scored, and played up splendidly for his side.