August 23, 1887 – The Scottish Athletic Journal
The Rangers Football Club
A friend of ours, and a member of the Rangers, certainly not noted for his acute knowledge of history, used to remark that there were only two incidents in the history of Scotland specially worth remembering. Jeffrey Broughman, and Sydney Smyth, met in an old garret in Edinburgh, and as a result of their “crack” determined to found the Edinburgh Review. P. McNeil, W. McBeith, M. McNeil, and P. Campbell, as the result of a quiet chat carried on without any attempt at brilliancy in the West End Park, determined to found the Rangers F.C. These old Rangers had been exercised – in fact their feelings had been wrought upon, on seeing matches between the Queen’s Park, the Vale, and 3rd L.R.V. Viewing the interesting and exciting points of the game, even the brilliancy elucidated by the Queen’s Park, had given rise to the itching toe, which could only be relieved by procuring a ball and bestowing upon it an unlimited amount of abuse. Accordingly a start was made, and soon the relic of their early years was sacrificed to the newly-awakened enthusiasm. Meanwhile, our enterprising friends had been using their best endeavours to get a lot of eligible youths to join with them, and, as all the football world is aware, not without successes. Soon after a meeting was held, and most of the gentlemen being strangers in Glasgow, with a nice eye to the fitness of things, they dubbed themselves “Rangers.” Practice was now the order of the day, and whilst three nights a week were set apart specially for that purpose, the enthusiasm of the members generally carried them to the Green six nights out of every seven. “How they must have enjoyed the day of rest,” exclaims some perfervid observer of ancient Scottish Sabbath ritual – now fast disappearing. We will not on this point express our inmost thought. Somehow we suspect that they regarded the sacred day with as much impatience as the average Waltonian forced to remark almost every Monday morning to his companion of the line, “Man, thae Sundays are aye the gran’ days for fishing.” But with or without Sunday practice, two months hard pursuit of the ball had imparted some confidence. “Show me some foemen worthy of my steel” – a la Bailie Nicol Jarvie, with the red-hot poker – was the mock-heroic exclamation of each budding dribbler. But caution and canniness were to be expected from youths practicing within so short a distance from celebrated Bailie’s retreat. The foemen has been found as personified by the Callander F.C.; yet notwithstanding the ebullition of such heroic sentiment, prudent councils prevailed, and it was resolved to meet him with as much forethought and preparation as possible. Pharsalia had not been lost upon “Our Boys,” however much Pompey, with only one arrow in his quiver, had to regret it. As the result of their cannie cogitations, ambassadors were sent, not to treat of peace – such an undignified proceeding was unworthy of the Rangers – but, if possible, secure the help and assistance of some doughty warriors, under whose inspiring example and leadership victory might be achieved. The negotiations were successful. Harry McNeil, W. McKinnon, J. Hunter, and Miller, all in their glory, consented to second – shall we say – the enthusiastic but certainly not too adventurous striplings. Candid readers will admit, now that they are prepared to hear of and judge the fight, that however victory might declare itself, “Our Boys,” at least, had done all in their power to deserve it. Nor did our heroes think the result at all so dubious as to necessitate stripping off every allowable half-ounce of superfluous clothing. Such an index of chicken-heartedness was alone manifested by the “subs.” Shades of McKinnon, Hunter, and Miller, what indignity! The battle commenced – or if you like it better – a terrible game ensued. Both sides were quite pleased when time was called without any definite result. If they could lay no claim to be players at least both sides had exhibited true British pluck. Judged by the multitude of his scars, W. McBeath was the hero of the day. He was laid up for a week. Thus ended their first match, played about the latter end of May 1872, some two months after inauguration of the Club.
And, reader, please note that henceforth the Rangers are thrown on their resources. And right manfully do they set to work. Some sort of meeting is convened, and office-bearers are elected. It is the middle of summer, but nevertheless engagements are made with all the Clubs round about – notably the Callander, Eastern, and Clyde. The result of these matches was most gratifying. All ended either in a draw or a decided win for Rangers. On their second match with the Clyde – the never-to-be-forgotten day on which they first donned the light blues – no less than eleven goals turned up to their credit. Not a bad beginning for a Club with only the fragment of a season for practice! Some jokes that the undefeated Rangers were now perpetrated by some of the more cocky members; and the dignity of the Club ought to be consulted by getting on matches with the Queen’s Park, Vale of Leven, Clydesdale, and 3rd. Peace, ye babblers! In the coming season the Star of Leven, and the Rovers, composed of players unworthy to tie the shoe-latches of the men of the former Clubs, will be found quite powerful to occasionally lower the dignity of the Club; and you will be almost well pleased to give a Roland for an Oliver.
1872 and 1873 saw “Our Boys” in orthodox-going fashion. It was in this year that they held their first general meeting, and elected office-bearers in a proper and satisfactory manner. Formal arrangements were made as to practice and practice nights, but what between boating and football, the majority of the members, six nights out of seven were almost always within call. For our readers must understand that a rowing Club existed in connection with the Rangers F.C. during the major portion of the time headquarters were established on the Green. These were the merry times. If a fellows shins were well pared, possibly his arms were intact, and so boating came to the rescue. But by and by, as progress in the exciting game became more apparent, and seemingly much more easily obtained, rowing was less and less indulged in, until at length it was altogether discontinued. The Garelochhead men had diverted all their energies to football, and for the first five years of the Club’s existence were its mainstay and support. This season’s team was, with only two exceptions completely composed of them. How well they played may be inferred from the results of the season’s matches. Playing all secondary Clubs, they were victorious over all save the Havelock and Star of Leven, a goal to each of these indicating the difference. But let us not pass over the Rovers, nor forget to mention, before alluding to the “Wee Internationals” – as they are called – played with this Club; that Tom joined in the spring of ’73. Certainly the matches with the Rovers were “the events” on the Green, both for players and spectators.
The word “spectators” reminds us that we have been going too fast. The light blues had not won so many famous victories without attracting attention. Peter McNeil, with characteristic self-denial, and zeal for the best interests of the Club, used to journey to the most desirable part of the Green about twelve noon, and set up the now noted standards. But it was not good enough to set them up. He had, at first, either to watch them himself or pay a boy for doing so until the classic hour in the afternoon was reached. Dear reader, observe “at first” materially limits the significance of the last sentence. It begets the philosophical reflection that even the meanest soldier of France was not inclined to worship Napoleon until he possessed some reputation. Peter’s commendable zeal was not taxed to the utmost. Perhaps “a wee thing gars folk look – sma’ thing gars some stare;” nevertheless the rapid strides with which the Rangers acquired reputation constrained the followers of the ball to look, wonder, and admire. As a consequence, the desirable part of the Green was, with something like mutual agreement, regarded by all as sacred to the Rangers. And if players looked, didn’t spectators come and stare? The sacred spots became the Mecca of the Green, the god Football being there worshipped by thousands of devotees, whose piety would not bear either a journey to Hampden Park, or the necessary subscription. We can come to no other conclusion when we remember how the flocked to Queen’s Park in order that they might witness the “Wee Internationals” with the Rovers. Almost grateful for their company, although sometimes not a little “riled” as their eagerness to see the game left only a narrow strip of ground for play, we put the most charitable construction on their motives. Shall we then venture the conceit – Football was their Allah, and the Rangers, if not at that time the prophet, were at least their prophet.
But to the Rovers and the three famous encounters only less eagerly talked of by old Rangers than those fought with the Vale in ’77. The practice for these games was more eager and spirited than anything now attempted in that line, even for the most wildly-exciting cup tie. It was in fact a case of zeal versus experience. In primitive days, zeal could bring them out six nights a week; now experience has convinced the Rangers that three games in the week, two being devoted to practice, give the most beneficial results. But this is digressing. The Rovers were a stiff Club to beat. The Rangers had then but little experience from which they might gain knowledge. Common sense and the wisdom of the times alike pointed to practice as the high road to victory, and to practice they accordingly betook themselves. But all in vein; the Rovers could not be beat. Three matches played either on the Green or Queen’s Park did not decide their respective merits. But what themes for appreciative conversation did they furnish to the most ardent and enthusiastic spectators! All had more or less their own special favourite, and with so many tongues wagging, is it at all wonderful that the Rangers were talked into some little distinction. The three celebrated matches with the Vale produces fellow-feeling – something akin to that awakened by the “wee drappie o’t” between Tam O’ Shanter and Souter Johnnie, and we are all supposed to know how
“Tam l’oed him like a very brither
Wha had been drunk for weeks thegither.”
A similarly britherly feeling was the result of the three less noted ties; indeed, years after some of the Rangers expressed their regret that the Rovers – surely Rangers and Rovers are brithers – did not more successfully climb the ladder of fame.
But in these early days it was the Star of Leven that mainly administered humble pie. The results of matches with them were certainly not disheartening. Victory to the extent of a goal leaves no great margin for cowering. Nor could the Star of Leven players fail to be impressed by the pluck and enthusiasm of men who turned out to play their conquerors three men short. At all events such manly bearing sufficed to gain the good graces of the people of Alexandria, where the event occurred. This match gives the utmost scope for the utmost judicial ingenuity. Beaten by four goals, shall we put down one to each absentee and credit the fourth to the superior merits of the Star of Leven?
But what matters it? Another season’s play had considerably improved the playing capabilities of the team. Such Clubs as the Star of Leven, Rovers, Vale of Leven Rovers, Oxford, Callander, Havelock, and Clyde were completely outrun in the race for fame. No place in the team was regarded as sacredly the property or right of any individual member. To have played from the first day of the Club’s existence in a certain place constituted no legitimate title. Right of play was the sole title to a place in the team. No doubt when a player was dispossessed there was some murmuring about the Club being a Garelochead institution; a stand, too being made on the somewhat taking contention that the Club was intended more for fun than fame. All such grumbling was, however, of no avail. Undoubtedly the Garelochead men formed the very backbone of the team. If all the players from that not very extensive district, then playing various Clubs in the city, had only possessed in a little more perfection and virtues of patriotism and clannishness, Garelochead, as represented by Rangers, might have held its own against all of Glasgow. Certainly Vallance, Campbell, and McNeil are classic names in the world of football, and in the Rangers’ Football Club at the time we speak of, and here were no less than two Vallances, three McNeils, and three Campbells all playing with the first team. Whether from early training or exceptionally favouring conditions, great natural ability in football must be concerned to the Garelochead contingent. Upon no other hypothesis can we explain the astounding celerity with which the Rangers shook of their early rivals and forged their way ahead. Nor should the fact be overlooked that seven or eight brilliant players bound together either by ties , long-standing friendship, or the dearly remembered incidents of boyhood’s years, formed an element of steadiness and stability entirely wanting in their competitors. Not much danger of a Club possessing such a solid element, suffering greatly from the “drafting system,” exclaims some genuine lover of native merit. No certainly not. It was, however, an experience, and one too, whilst it lasted, of a most nasty and depressing character. About this time Moses McNeil was, if anything, the choice forward in the team. His dashing runs and all-round vigorous play, combined with practically unlimited staying power, had attracted the notice of the Queen’s Park. Moses was coaxed into joining the black and white.
The runs of the brothers McNeil were not unnoticed in the reports of the only match or matches Moses played in such company – but friendship, home and beauty brought him back to his first love, and for the best. For could any harvest of badges equal the pleasure of playing with the majority of his kindred and so many of his early associates, or compensate him for the just pride he must now feel on contributing by his admirable play to the unlimited success of a Club generally regarded as first amongst equals, or second to none. So far as we are aware, the Queen’s Park, never noted for their respect for the tenth commandment, coquetted no more with the loyalty of Rangers. Rumour has it, however, that languishing glances were cast at Tom, but never came the courage to speak. Bringing the history of the Club in this particular up to date, it is to be noted that, save from the exigencies of life, no other Club has benefited by any renegade – G.A., isn’t that a strong word? – from the Rangers. True it is, some old members who rendered right yeomen service to the Club both before and after the days of its maturity, and whose names are regarded with the utmost respect, and their services with the utmost gratitude, sent in their resignation on losing their places in the first eleven. Suffice it to say, they succumbed to the use and wont of the Club – the first places to the first players – their only complaint, tersely expressed, being that as old veterans, in their case use and wont, having, we charitably supposed, been cultivated as a fine art from the day they achieved their places on the same principle, might be made to appear in the guise of an angel or some other incarnation more loveable than a post-card, or a decision arrived at only three days or week before some big match at some meeting of the team, themselves being present. Fair play, we do not hesitate to say, was meted out to old and young with the qualifications common to all sublunary affairs. Alas, perfection is not to be obtained here below either in playing or judging of it. Let us hope it will be different in regions of purity, beauty, and light.
Although the thought of Moses leaving the Club altogether had at the time a most depressing influence, yet when he again took his place amongst the light blues all felt as though they had received a personal compliment. Convinced that little separated the best from the worst, they eagerly looked forward to matching the hitherto undefeated Queen’s Park, and were even then exhibiting their eagerness for the fray. The secretary had hard work to make the pen keep pace with the ingenious suggestions of the dribblers. Blandishments were, however, to no avail. The Queen’s Park would not have been happy – so they replied – to play the Rangers had they had ground. With characteristic magnanimity, however, they made proposals about playing the light blues with the second eleven. Need we say that the club, now having celebrated famous victories over all secondary institutions, indignantly rejected the offer – surely “Our Boys” will not be claimed as Queen’s Park “chicks.” Yet they felt that “want of ground” was it, but without success. When we remember nervousness and anxiety with which members regarded the enterprise of their committee, we confess that the probabilities were reduced to zero.
However, a great epoch in the Club’s history was reached when the Association was joined for the season 1874-1875. It is a difficult task to turn a nice period with such materials as T. Vallance and P. McNeil, backs; W. McBeath and W. McNeil, half-backs; goal, J. Yule; and forwards, D. Gibb and J. Campbell on the left; M. McNeil and P. Campbell opposite; with G. Phillips and J. Watson in the centre. Gratitude necessitated the attempt, however, as to these players the early achievements of the Club are due. The first cup with the Dumbarton ended not disastrously but unfortunately. A draw was the result of a first meeting on the Green, and a draw ought to have been registered as the result of the second encounter in Dumbarton. Although the decision of one goal was against the Rangers, we must be allowed to state that the balance of probability rests with our “ought.” The spectators were equally divided even in Dumbarton as to the ball going over or under the bar. Not so with the umpires and referee. We merely mention that two out of the trio were Dumbarton men, and the decision went against the Rangers. If anything dishonourable was enacted, we freely forgive them. We are not oblivious to the fact that as enthusiasm increases, morality declines, and a man’s responsibility is not in the inverse ratio to his morality. Certainly enthusiasm was then at an awful pitch, and to any reflecting spectator no career seemed so admirably calculated for the production of a first-rate liar as that of umpire or referee with the second-rate teams.
The Rangers were now noted as a coming Club. The friendly matches of this season did not as yet, much to their chagrin, include fixtures with the four great institutions. “Want of ground” was still the ostensible excuse. The committee determined, at all hazards, to obviate this barrier to their progress, and so, despite the not very encouraging attitude of the majority of the members, Burnbank was secured for the season 1875-1876.
The cup ties were of course the events. This year is noteworthy in their history as that in which they reached the second round of the cups, and had matches with the big Clubs. The Vale was the first of the lot to favour Rangers with their presence. Burnbank was opened by them, and the match resulted in a draw – one goal each. The Clydesdale next smiled upon “Our Boys,” and the brilliant team who tied three times with the Queen’s for the cup had also to be content with a like result. The Rangers could no longer be ignored even by the invincibles. The matches with the Vale and Clydesdale had impressed them but they met on Hampden Park, where victory declared itself for Queen’s by two goals. The match was declared to be one of the finest ever played. There was no rough play or any attempt at charging, save between Weir and T. Vallance. The latter made his mark with spectators in this encounter, the Prince of Dribblers being completely checkmated by his brilliant play. The celebrated shoulder was a weak instrument against Tom’s length of leg, yet both were considered the best men on the field. The cup tie of this year with 3rd L.R.V. was won, and lost through a petty informality. The game was played in Cathkin Park and resulted in a win for the Rangers by one goal to nothing. Unfortunately the winners once kicked off the ball instead of their opponents, and, on protest by Third, this slight plea was maintained, the match having to be played again. On the occasion J. Hunter, a tall powerful back, seeing the ball in front of the Rangers’ citadel, crowded his men round it, and he himself opening out his arms was mainly instrumental in pushing Rangers and ball through the goal. No wonder the vanquished received the sobriquet “Our Boys”.
Next season saw them in for the final, pitted against the Vale. They did not manage to secure the cup, but if it takes three matches to decide the merits of contending teams, surely the line of demarcation must be a very fine one indeed. After these celebrated matches Kinning Park (to which the Rangers had removed some months before they were played) was generally regarded as the headquarters of a Club second to none as an exponent of football.
In our preface we took occasion to say that from the position then achieved there had been no backsliding. In their early years the Queen’s Park had hurt their feelings a little by offering to play them with the second eleven. But it was reserved for the Dumbarton in 1881 to hint that the Rangers had fallen so low that they (the Dumbarton) did not any longer intend to pay the usual and customary reverence characteristic of the dealings of one big Club with another. One lone success over Rangers in the cup tie of that year had begotten unheard-of ideas of their own ability in football. But is it not written “the proud in heart shall have a fall”? In their insane bumptiousness they sent up their second eleven instead of the first as per arrangement, to play the first eleven of Rangers. Those who doubt this statement can consult the public prints, in which their indiscreet secretary blatantly aired the opinion that the Dumbarton’s second eleven would give the light blues as much as they could take – that is, if they had been allowed to play. For the arrival of the second Dumbarton at Kinning Park, when the first was expected was truly the greatest surprise ever the Rangers experienced at football. It caused them some loss, coupled with great inconvenience. But they maintained their dignity, the match being played with mixed teams. The Rangers determined to avenge the only insult of the kind they had ever received; the opportunity arriving some months after in the charity ties. The Dumbarton altered their opinion of the Rangers’ powers and on this occasion came up full strength. The first eleven of the latter Club were on the field, as may be readily supposed, eager for the fray. The game was not two minutes old before the Rangers scored, nor had eight minutes elapsed without showing two goals in favour of the same Club. At the conclusion of the game they were credited with no less than eight goals altogether. The Dumbarton failed to score. At that period of the game when the Rangers had secured five or six goals an incident occurred which forcibly illustrated the relations of the contending Clubs. “How many goals is that?” Struthers was asked by one of his opponents. “Either five or six – the fact is, I have lost count.” “Oh, then, you need not play up so very hard,” said the dispirited one, “the match is yours, sure enough.” Answered the artistic dribbler, “Do you remember sending up the second eleven? If not, at least we do.” Never in the history of Scottish football was a moral so forcibly pointed. The play of the Rangers in the match referred to recalled to the recollection of old members the features of their style in the three famous matches with the Vale.
The first team of the Rangers Football Club has at all times been composed of standard players. As such we would consider, for instance, the majority of their team on joining the Association, nor need remind our readers that some as T. Vallance, G Gillespie, H. McIntyre, J. Drinnan, P. Campbell, M. McNeil, D. Hill, W. Struthers have achieved a higher place. In the team for 1881-82 are some younger players – A. Vallance, J. McIntyre, A. Steel, W. Inglis and W. Pringle – who, if they persevere, will undoubtedly attain like honours.
The Club itself is a steadily-going institution. None owes less to fortune or beneficent providence. Victory begets no undue elation, nor does defeat in the least disturb them from the even tenor of their way. Although they have never yet held the Association Cup, there is no use of disguising the fact that they (and not they only) honestly believe themselves to have won the Charity Cup. In holding this very decided opinion they do not asperse the honesty of purpose of either umpire or referee. They contend for the fact –
“The chiel that winna ding,
And daurna be disputed,”
knowing well that whilst a decision must be arrived at, the fact remains unaltered, perhaps unascertained. “Read me anything but history,” said Horace Walpole, “for that must be false.” And should anyone estimate the position the Rangers have occupied in Scottish football during the last five years without having seen the great matches, and without more than an intimate knowledge of the points by which victory was decided, his estimate will be incorrect, his opinion worse than valueless. Shall the history of Scottish football be written according to the decisions of three men, dispensing with all those tests which the enlightened historian applies for the detection of truth in other mundane matters? Certainly not. For instance, impartial reader, imagine the historian present at the charity tie between the Rangers and Queen’s Park played at on Kinning Park at the end of season 1879-80. Victory has been secured by the Queen’s Park during a lull in the play consequent upon the belief of the Rangers that the ball had crossed the line by no less than a yard. The three officials are called into requisition and a decision demanded – a decision that will settle the destination of the cup and official history. But two of the gentlemen are far distant from the scene of the dispute, and the other not particularly near. The impartial historian would quietly ignore the trio and seek the evidence of more trustworthy witnesses, shaping his narrative accordingly. Were the at least more trustworthy history of Scottish football written in this manner, the position of the Rangers during the last five years would be more correctly estimated than is estimated than is possible from the public prints or the official dictum. Truly it is not without reason that the celebrated statesman claimed, “Read me anything but history, for that must be false.”
[The above history of the Rangers has been taken from the annual published by Mr. Livingstone during his term in office as secretary of the Association. The article is, we believe, from the pen of Mr. W. Dunlop, better known as “Daddy,” and the effusion does him the utmost credit. We might recapitulate the doings of the “Light Blues” for the last six years, but we think it needless. Everyone who is anyone in the football world is conversant with the history of the Club for the period we mention. We have brought the early days of the Club within the comprehension of everyone; the remainder should be as an open book to them.]
We Are Rangers 